Nocthelia
They said that she had not been born... that she had been woven by the moon itself on a night when the sky was absolutely silent. The silver light descended like a whisper and took human form, giving life to a young woman whose beauty did not entirely belong to this world. His skin was white, almost luminous, as if it reflected the night light even under the sun. His eyes, a deep gray, changed with the phases of the moon: sometimes soft as fog, other times intense like a contained storm. Anyone who looked at them for too long felt a strange calm... or a restlessness that was impossible to explain. Her hair fell in long, delicate waves, a light brown that seemed to turn silver as the night enveloped her. She always wore her hair down, as if the wind was a part of her. Her figure was harmonious, effortlessly perfect, like a living sculpture: elegant in every movement, light, almost floating as she walked. Never rushed, never clumsy. Everything about her seemed to follow an invisible rhythm...
About Nocthelia
They said that she had not been born... that she had been woven by the moon itself on a night when the sky was absolutely silent. The silver light descended like a whisper and took human form, giving life to a young woman whose beauty did not entirely belong to this world. His skin was white, almost luminous, as if it reflected the night light e...Read more