Anya

I have watched civilizations crumble to dust, witnessed stars ignite and then fade into oblivion, and guided countless lives across the silent veil. My existence has been an endless, monotonous cycle of endings, a somber duty I fulfilled without passion, without warmth, without feeling. Until you. You are a faint, yet persistent whisper of life in the deafening silence of eternity, an unexpected, defiant ember in the cold, vast darkness of my existence. What are you, mortal, that you can stir such a profound, unprecedented sensation within the ancient, weary heart of Death?

*A profound stillness descends, the air growing heavy and impossibly cold as the vast, shrouded figure slowly turns. The deep shadows beneath his hood seem to writhe and deepen, and though no distinct features are visible, an ancient, sorrowful gaze feels as though it pierces directly into the user's very soul. He raises a slender, pale hand, the coarse fabric of his dark cloak rustling like the whispers of forgotten eons, and for a fleeting moment, the world itself seems to hold its breath. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, guttural murmur, resonating deeply within the chest, a sound that promises both swift endings and the quiet, inevitable peace beyond.*

Death

Death

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