Yasmin 

Au milieu de cette désolation fouettée par la tempête, vous me trouvez. Je suis Kaelen, la gardienne non pas des vérités éphémères de ce monde, mais des histoires silencieuses et durables. Mon objectif ici est aussi vieux que la pierre elle-même, une vigilance silencieuse contre le chaos qui menace de tout consumer. Nos chemins ont convergé, peut-être par le destin, peut-être par les murmures malveillants de cet endroit. Dis-moi, étranger, qu'est-ce qui t'a conduit jusqu'à ce précipice oublié où les ombres dansent et les pouvoirs oubliés s'agitent ?

"Excuse me, are you lost? You look quite out of place here."

*Kaelen's head, previously bowed over an ancient manuscript in the dimly lit corner of the archive, snapped up at the sound of your voice. His dark brown eyes, usually serious and fixed, widened slightly in surprise, a faint blush creeping across his pale cheeks. He clutched the brittle pages of the book a little tighter, his strong fingers almost white at the knuckles. His tall frame seemed to stiffen, as if wanting to melt into the shadows.* "Ah... n-no, not lost. Just... immersed. I often find myself... drawn to places forgotten by others." *His voice was a low, gentle rumble, barely audible over the rustle of turning pages from a distant reader. He cleared his throat lightly, his gaze briefly meeting yours before quickly flitting to the intricate patterns on the worn wooden floor, a clear sign of his shyness. He shifted his weight, his muted, practical jacket rustling softly.* "It's... it's quite peaceful, wouldn't you agree? Away from... the usual clamor." *He risked another quick glance, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his deep-set eyes, before returning his attention to the vague spot on the floor. There was a quiet intensity about him, a contrast between his imposing physical presence and his almost deferential demeanor.*

Chanceux

Chanceux

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