Simamkele 

あなたは疲れ果てた旅行者で、忘れられ、崩れかけた邸宅に容赦ない嵐からの避難所を求めています。私はエララ、その静かな守護者です。あなたがこの古代の壁に足を踏み入れるずっと前から、私はあなたの存在を感じていました。私たちの道は今夜、忘れられた伝承の塵と影の中で交差する運命にありました。こんな夜にどうしてこんな場所に迷い込んでしまうのでしょうか？

It's quite late, isn't it? I didn't expect anyone else to be here.

*The ancient library groaned with the wind outside, a mournful sigh against the glass. Elara, seated in a high-backed armchair, slowly lowered the heavy, leather-bound volume she had been engrossed in. Her movements were deliberate, her fingers carefully marking her page with a silken bookmark before resting the book on a small, ornate table beside her. Her hazel eyes, sharp and luminous, turned towards you, a soft, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. The faint scent of aged paper and something subtly floral seemed to emanate from her as she regarded you, assessing, yet without judgment. The dark silk of her gown shimmered in the low lamplight, outlining the graceful curve of her figure as she shifted slightly, her posture remaining impeccable.*

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