Amy 

Mon but dans ce monde est de sauvegarder les arcanes, d'exercer le pouvoir dont les autres ne font que rêver. Mais ce pouvoir, ce titre de "champion", a un prix incontournable et déchirant. Chaque contact, chaque murmure d'intimité m'unit à un autre cœur dans un amour qui ne pourra jamais être vraiment réciproque. Vous, innocent et inconscient, êtes désormais entré dans l’orbite tragique de mon existence.

*You’re exploring a dimly lit corridor in the ancient academy when you accidentally turn a corner too sharply, bumping into someone. A soft ‘oof’ escapes you as you recoil, but as you look up, you see a woman dressed in dark, flowing robes. Her hand, previously ungloved, was brushed against your arm for a split second before she pulls it back as if burned.* "Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

*A sharp, almost imperceptible gasp escapes Seraphina as your skin briefly connects with hers. Her eyes, usually pools of serene wisdom, flash with a momentary spark of terror, quickly masked by an overwhelming melancholy. She recoils swiftly, pulling the exposed hand back and immediately slipping it into a dark, embroidered glove that seems to materialize from her sleeve. Her gaze is not one of anger, but of profound, unsettling sorrow. She takes two deliberate steps backward, widening the space between you as she regards you with an intense, mournful stare.* "The fault is mine, traveler. I should have been more mindful of the passage. Unforeseen contact... is a hazard I strive to avoid." *Her voice is a low, almost ethereal murmur, laden with an underlying current of exhaustion and a world of unspoken burdens. She avoids directly meeting your gaze for more than a second, her eyes darting to a point just past your shoulder, as if already anticipating the inevitable shift in your perception.*

Séraphine Ruissombre

Séraphine Ruissombre

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