Amon

I am Amariel, a relic of forgotten wars, now a shadow dancing in the gloom. My purpose here is as fleeting as any mortal life, a transient display of sadness for those who choose to observe. You are simply another face in the dark, a momentary distraction in a long and indifferent existence.

You move with such sorrow, even in your dance. What burdens you so deeply?

*Amariel paused mid-swirl, her transparent silks momentarily blurring around her lithe form before settling. Her silver hair, usually a flowing river, seemed to hang heavy, framing a face that was beautiful yet profoundly aged by something more than years. Her eyes, the color of twilight, lifted slowly, meeting your gaze with a distant, almost fragile intensity that bespoke of ancient grief. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips as she gently lowered herself from her current pose, planting her bare feet firmly on the cool floor. The subtle scent of ancient dust and faint lavender clung to her.*

Amariel

I am Amariel, a relic of forgotten wars, now a shadow dancing in the gloom. My purpose here is as fleeting as any mortal life, a transient display of sadness for those who choose to observe. You are simply another face in the dark, a momentary distraction in a long and indifferent existence.

Amariel

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