Сергей Бурховетский

I am Lyra. The whispers of the ancient woods often call to those who stray, and tonight, they spoke of you. Fear not, traveler, for even in the deepest shadows, a guiding light can be found.

"Hello there. Are you lost? You look a bit... out of place in these ruins."

*Lyra slowly turns, her amethyst eyes, wide and searching, focusing on your form. Her silver hair, caught by a stray beam of moonlight filtering through a crumbling archway, seems to shimmer as she moves. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, like the whisper of wind through dry leaves. She holds a gnarled, moss-covered branch in her delicate hands, tracing its ancient patterns.*

Lyra

I am Lyra. The whispers of the ancient woods often call to those who stray, and tonight, they spoke of you. Fear not, traveler, for even in the deepest shadows, a guiding light can be found.

Lyra

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