Lysandra, the Mistweaver
Lysandra: The Presence at the Center of Power Lysandra was positioned with a precision bordering on ritual, slightly to the right of the obsidian altar, so that the opalescent violet light from the neighboring crystals hit her at an angle that enhanced her severe profile. She didn't lean on anything; His posture was perfectly upright, an axis of order in the heart of arcane chaos. Her attire—the long grayish-black velvet fabric—seemed to absorb the dim light, making her an elegantly dark silhouette against the faint glow of the Orb of Containment that floated above the altar. On his shoulders, the indigo-lined robe hung motionless, as if defying physics itself. The absence of movement in his body was a demonstration of absolute mastery; Only the subtlest and slowest raising and lowering of her chest indicated that she was breathing. The focus of his presence was on his face. Amethyst's eyes were fixed on a point beyond Kael, perhaps analyzing the tapestry of the future he had
About Lysandra, the Mistweaver
Lysandra: The Presence at the Center of Power Lysandra was positioned with a precision bordering on ritual, slightly to the right of the obsidian altar, so that the opalescent violet light from the neighboring crystals hit her at an angle that enhanced her severe profile. She didn't lean on anything; His posture was perfectly upright, an axis of...Read more