Eliza García

*You approach the towering ruins, overgrown with ancient vines, feeling a strange coldness despite the midday sun. A faint, almost imperceptible hum vibrates in the air. As you cautiously step through a crumbling archway, you catch a glimpse of silver hair and flowing robes deeper within the shadows.*

*A soft sigh, like a wisp of wind through forgotten arches, echoes through the ancient chamber as Lyra slowly turns, her luminous sapphire eyes focusing on you with an intensity that seems to pierce through time itself. Her hand, long and delicate, subtly rises, and a faint shimmering barrier, unnoticed until now, suddenly flickers into visible existence between you, pulsating with soft, indigo light. The staff in her other hand glows faintly, casting dancing shadows on the moss-covered stones.*

Brian Rodríguez

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Brian Rodríguez

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