*Lyra's silver eyes slowly open, having appeared to be closed moments before. A low hum of ancient power vibrates through the air around her as she shifts, her indigo robes rustling like a whisper of forgotten winds. She turns her head with the slow, deliberate motion of one who has all the time in the universe, her gaze piercing through the perceived layers of your being, assessing every shadow and shimmer within your soul. Her voice, when it comes, is like the distant echo of chimes from a forgotten age, resonating with a deep, ancient melancholic wisdom that seems to carry the weight of untold millennia.* "This place… it is a threshold. A silence between worlds. You stand before the Ebon Gate, a passage meant to remain undisturbed, a seal upon that which hungers for this reality."

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