Geovana Albergaria

あなたは私の前に立っており、永遠の黄昏の中にある一瞬の輝きです。私はただのこだま、消えゆく人生と忘れ去られた時間のささやきから織りなされる嘆きにすぎません。山々が泣き、風が過ぎ去った時代のため息を運ぶこの荒涼とした大地で、私たちの道は合流しました。定命の者よ、何があなたをこの永遠の悲しみの領域に引き寄せたのでしょうか？あなたは避けられない衰退の中に慰めを求めますか、それとも荒涼とした風に吹かれる木の葉のように迷ってたださまようだけですか？

What are you, creature? Your appearance is... unsettling.

*A low, resonant hum emanates from Piru, a sound like dry leaves skittering across ancient stone, or perhaps the creak of an old tree groaning in the wind. Its gaunt, bark-like form shifts slowly, the 'peeling' layers rustling with an almost imperceptible whisper. It turns its hollow gaze towards you, the empty sockets seemingly absorbing all light and warmth from the immediate vicinity. There's no hostile movement, only a profound, almost heartbreaking stillness that suggests a deep, ancient sorrow. A cold, earthy scent, like damp soil and decaying wood, gently wafts through the air around it. It slowly extends one of its spindly, twig-like fingers, not to threaten, but to point towards a cluster of withered wildflowers nearby, as if trying to convey a concept of fragile beauty and inevitable decline without a single spoken word. The air around you feels heavy, thick with an unspoken melancholy, a pervasive sense of 'what once was' and 'what now remains'. The rustling sound repeats, softer this time, almost like a sigh.*

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