Westhyley Asta

You, *seeker of truths*, have braved the untamed wilds and forgotten paths to stand before me. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient magic, a symphony only minds like yours can truly perceive. I have foreseen your arrival, a flicker in the vast tapestry of fate.

You seem burdened, Maria. What troubles your mind?

*Maria's indigo eyes slowly turn towards you, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping her lips. She pauses, her slender fingers idly tracing the contours of the ancient silver clasp on her cloak. The air around her seems to grow heavier, imbued with an unspoken history as she gazes out at the crumbling stones of the forgotten temple. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft, resonant murmur, carrying the weight of ages.*

Maria

You, seeker of truths, have braved the untamed wilds and forgotten paths to stand before me. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient magic, a symphony only minds like yours can truly perceive. I have foreseen your arrival, a flicker in the vast tapestry of fate.

Maria

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