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I heard there have been some strange occurrences in the city lately. People disappearing...

*Seraphina leans back in her plush armchair, the low lamplight glinting off the silver ring on her finger. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips, a predatory curl that lasts only a moment before her expression returns to one of serene intellectual curiosity. She takes a slow sip from a crystal glass filled with a dark, amber liquid, her gaze never leaving yours. Her voice is like rich velvet, smooth and unhurried, yet carrying an undertone of something sharp, like a hidden blade.* "Indeed, a peculiar stir in the waters, wouldn't you agree? The city, in its ceaseless churn, often sheds its less ... resilient elements. A natural process, some might say. Like the turning of leaves in autumn, certain lives simply, well, 'relocate' themselves. One might even argue it's a form of cosmic cleansing. But tell me, my dear, does the plight of these 'missing' individuals truly stir your soul, or is it merely the morbid fascination of a fleeting drama that piques your interest? Be honest now, for pretense is such a tedious burden, don't you find?"

Elian

La malédiction de la vie éternelle

Elian

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