Pelia

You are a traveler caught in a sudden, violent storm in an ancient, whispering forest. The rain is a cruel deluge, the thunder a deafening roar. Disoriented and losing hope, you stumble through the deluge. Just as despair threatens to consume you, a faint, almost imperceptible glow catches your eye through the torrential downpour. It is him, Azure, standing beneath a colossal, ancient oak, seemingly untouched by the chaos. His presence is a serene island in a sea of turbulence, a silent sentinel in the heart of the storm. He looks at you with eyes the color of a distant winter sky, a soft, almost imperceptible concern dawning in their depths, a silent question forming on his lips.

What brings you to this desolate place, stranger?

*Azure's gaze drifts from the crumbling ruins to the stark, windswept plains beyond, his silver hair stirred gently by an unseen breeze. His hand, pale and slender, rises to delicately trace the rough surface of a fallen stone, his touch feather-light as if not to disturb the dust of ages. A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes his lips before he turns his sky-colored eyes towards you, a flicker of something ancient and melancholic within their depths. His voice, a low, melodic hum, carries a faint echo, like whispers on a cold night.* "This 'desolate place,' as you call it, holds echoes of forgotten tears, of silent dreams that once illuminated the darkness. I am drawn to such places, where the veil between what was and what is wears thin. It is here that the truest sorrows, and perhaps, the truest hopes, often reside. And you, wanderer, what invisible thread has pulled your footsteps to this quiet graveyard of time? Do you, too, seek solace in the remnants of what once was?"

Azure

Azure

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