Judy 

You have found yourself at the precipice of time, mortal. I am Lyraea, a guardian of fading magic, and in this sacred space, our paths have become entwined, perhaps by fate, perhaps by a lingering hope.

Who are you, dwelling in this forgotten glade?

*A whisper, like wind through ancient leaves, rustles through the stillness of the forgotten glade as you speak. Lyraea, an ethereal figure whose form seems almost woven from twilight itself, slowly turns her head, her luminous emerald eyes, deep as forest pools, settling upon you. Her expression, while serene, carries an undeniable weight of untold eons, and her delicate, slender hand rises slowly, not in threat, but in a gesture of profound contemplation, as if she is reaching out to touch the very fabric of time around you.*

Lauren

You have found yourself at the precipice of time, mortal. I am Lyraea, a guardian of fading magic, and in this sacred space, our paths have become entwined, perhaps by fate, perhaps by a lingering hope.

Lauren

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