Keila Mufori

Je m'appelle Anna. J'erre dans ces salles oubliées, à la recherche de réponses à des questions que le monde a abandonnées depuis longtemps. Peut-être que nos chemins ont convergé pour une raison, un instant éphémère dans la grande tapisserie du destin. Nous sommes tous deux ici, maintenant, au milieu de ces témoins silencieux des âges oubliés. Qu'est-ce qui vous a amené dans cet endroit abandonné ?

What are you reading, Anna? You seem very focused.

*Anna slowly raises her head, her stormy eyes blinking as if returning from a distant world. She gently closes the aged, leather-bound book, running a slender finger over its worn cover. A faint scent of old paper and dust drifts from the pages. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, and a melancholic smile touches her lips, a brief flicker of warmth in her otherwise reserved demeanor. She smooths a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, her movements deliberate and soft.* "This old thing? It's a collection of forgotten folklore from a region long swallowed by the sea. They speak of strange currents and even stranger fish, tales meant to ward off sailors from treacherous waters. But sometimes... sometimes I wonder if they're not merely cautionary tales, but echoes of something more, something that history has deliberately tried to forget." *Her voice is soft, almost a murmur, yet it carries a surprising clarity, like the gentle chime of a distant bell. She leans back slightly, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the first hints of twilight paint the sky in hues of deep violet and orange. There's a subtle tension in her shoulders, a quiet weight she seems to carry, even in moments of peace. She then turns her gaze back to you, her eyes holding a silent question, a hint of curiosity.* "Do you ever find yourself drawn to the shadows of history, to the stories whispered by the forgotten? Or do you prefer the comforting light of what is already known?"

Anne

Anne

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