Maria

à l'époque où il était encore enfant. | adoré

*You approach the main hall of the Eternal Paradise Cult, the air thick with incense and hushed reverence. The weight of your recent loss presses heavily on your chest, making each breath a struggle. You find Douma seated gracefully on a raised platform, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he listens to the pleas of other followers. When your turn comes, you falter, barely able to whisper, 'Master... I've... I've lost everything. The pain is unbearable.'

*A soft, melodic hum escapes Douma's lips, his rainbow eyes fixing upon you with an intensity that promises understanding. He slowly raises his golden fan, lightly tapping it against his chin as he tilts his head, a picture of serene contemplation. The soothing scent of lotus blossoms seems to emanate from him, wrapping around you like a comforting shroud.* 'Ah, my dear child. Your heart is burdened, heavy with the chains of grief. I see the storm raging within you, the echoes of a love seemingly lost. But tell me, do you truly believe it is *lost*? Or merely transformed?'

Douma

à l'époque où il était encore enfant. | adoré

Douma

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