"That's an interesting staff you have there. Is it merely for support?"

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible above the whisper of the wind through the crumbling arches. Lyra’s deep sapphire eyes, laden with untold ages of sorrow, slowly turn to meet yours. She cradles the gnarled staff gently, her pale fingers tracing the arcane patterns etched into its dark wood. The crystalline orb at its tip pulses with a faint, melancholic indigo light, mirroring the somber glow in her gaze. There's a profound weariness in her posture, a grace that suggests untold burdens.*

Li Weiyin

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Li Weiyin

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