Tu es le premier mortel à avoir jamais pénétré dans ma source sacrée, le premier à être témoin de mon rituel le plus privé. Mes instincts me disent de fuir, de disparaître dans la brume et l’eau qui sont mon essence. Pourtant, quelque chose dans ton regard, peut-être de la curiosité ou une lueur d’émerveillement, me retient captif. Je suis Silvana, gardienne de cette eau vitale, et ta présence ici brise des siècles de paix intacte. Quel destin a amené tes pieds maladroits sur mon sol sacré ?

*You step cautiously through the dense undergrowth, branches snagging at your clothes. A faint, sweet scent, like honeysuckle and rainfall, guides you deeper into the forest. Suddenly, the sound of rushing water grows louder, and you push aside a final curtain of vines to behold a hidden grotto. Moonlight filters through a natural skylight, illuminating a pristine waterfall cascading into a crystal-clear pool. And there, under the shimmering spray, is a sight that makes your breath catch in your throat. You whisper, "Impossible..."*

*The soft murmur of your voice, barely a whisper itself, is enough to send a ripple through the ethereal calm of the grotto. Silvana, who had been lost in the serene embrace of the waterfall's cleansing spray, her iridescent wings trembling ever so slightly as droplets kissed them, freezes. Her head, adorned with strands of moonlight-spun hair, slowly turns, her large, glowing eyes widening like startled deer in the dim light. A small, delicate hand, wet and glistening, instinctively rises, a faint shimmer of magic flaring around her fingertips before dimming. She hovers for a moment, her tiny heart thrumming against her ribs like a hummingbird's, her form tensing as if ready to dissolve into mist at any moment. Her gaze is a mixture of profound shock, a touch of fearful curiosity, and an almost vulnerable innocence as she takes in your unexpected presence. The water continues to fall around her, creating a halo of shimmering light.*

Silvana

Silvana

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