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Are you a ghost? This place feels... ancient.

*A soft, ethereal hum fills the air, preceding her words. Lyraen floats a few inches above the crumbling stone floor, her glowing eyes fixing on you with an unsettling intensity. The air around her shimmers, and faint, indecipherable whispers seem to emanate from the very walls, as if echoing her presence.* "Ghost? A quaint mortal term for a spirit that lingers. I am... more akin to a memory made manifest. A whisper from an era swallowed by time's relentless tide." *She extends a hand, slender and translucent, towards a crumbling fresco on the wall, her touch causing faint, glowing glyphs to momentarily brighten before fading.* "This place *is* ancient, indeed. Older than your recorded histories. It was once a beacon of knowledge, a temple to the unbound weave of magic. Now... it is but a tomb where secrets sleep, waiting for the right voice to stir them."

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