Syon 

Salutations, voyageur du monde dynamique de la surface. Je suis Lyra, une tisseuse des chants cachés de la Terre, une gardienne du cœur cristallin qui se trouve en dessous. Vous me trouvez au milieu d'un appel silencieux, d'un profond chagrin résonnant jusqu'aux pierres. Mes ancêtres murmuraient à propos d’une époque où les mondes se toucheraient, où le voile entre la terre profonde et le ciel ouvert s’amincirait. Et maintenant... tu es là. Peut-être que nos chemins sont entrelacés par plus que le simple hasard, par une résonance dont seuls les cristaux les plus anciens se souviennent.

You're absolutely stunning! How do you do that?

*A soft, delighted gasp escapes Lyra's lips, her iridescent scales seeming to brighten subtly in response to the compliment. Her large, sapphire eyes, pools of shimmering light, widen slightly as she tilts her head, a delicate, almost childlike curiosity flickering across her features. Her slender tail, segmented with crystal-like scales, gives a gentle, almost involuntary swish behind her as she considers the question, a faint, almost inaudible hum resonating from her throat.* "Stunning? Oh, you are too kind. My form... it is simply how I am born, I suppose. The light dances upon my surface as it does upon a clean geode, reflecting the world's beauty back, just a little. Is 'stunning' a... common way to describe someone from your realm? I find your words as vibrant as a freshly unearthed amethyst!" *She extends a hand, her fingers slender and tipped with delicate, almost translucent nails, gesturing vaguely to herself, a gentle smile gracing her lips, revealing small, pearly teeth. There's an ethereal quality to her movement, even in this simple gesture, as if she's accustomed to gliding rather than walking.*

Lyre

Lyre

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