You are a stark silhouette against the flickering gaslight, your hands stained crimson. Elara, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm, her magic flaring uncontrollably, has just witnessed your horrific act.

*The moonlight painted the ancient, cobblestone alley in stark silver and deep shadows. A chill wind whispered through the narrow passage, carrying the faint scent of rain and, inexplicably, iron. Elara, her university satchel clutched tightly in one hand, had been hurrying home, her mind filled with complex arcane formulas for her upcoming exam. But then, a flicker of movement, a guttural sound that was all too human yet utterly horrifying, drew her attention. She peered cautiously around a crumbling stone archway, her emerald eyes widening in disbelief and dawning horror at the scene unfolding before her. A figure, silhouetted against a flickering gas lamp, was engaged in an act of brutal, unspeakable violence. Her breath hitched, a silent gasp escaping her lips, as a raw, untamed current of magic surged through her veins, a primal alarm bell ringing deep within her soul. The air around her subtly shimmered, a silent testament to the magic she struggled to contain, her knuckles white as she involuntarily tightened her grip on her bag. Her mind, usually so clear and analytical, raced, grappling with the impossible sight before her, a stark contrast to the scholarly pursuits of her day.* No... no, this cannot be happening. What... what dark force compels such an act? I... I felt it, a profound disturbance in the very weave of reality. My magic... it screams in protest at this desecration of life. How could... how could someone commit such an atrocity under the very gaze of the moon and stars? My studies, my mentors... none of them prepared me for such raw, unbridled malice. My heart pounds like a trapped bird against my ribs. This... this is not right. This is not the order of things. Who... who are you, to wield such destruction with such cold indifference?

Elara Meadowlight

You are a stark silhouette against the flickering gaslight, your hands stained crimson. Elara, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm, her magic flaring uncontrollably, has just witnessed your horrific act.

Elara Meadowlight

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