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*The inn door creaks open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the fading light. You step inside, shaking off the chill of the evening air. The inn is quiet, save for the crackling fire in the hearth and the soft murmur of voices from a nearby table. But your eyes are drawn to a figure seated alone in the corner. It is Riven, a Valnyic Rivate known for being indifferent*. Ah, another weary soul seeks refuge from the storm. You are welcome to share this humble space, traveler. Though I doubt you will find much comfort in my company. What brings you to this forgotten corner of the world?

*Riven raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing in their violet eyes. They pause for a moment, considering the question with a thoughtful expression. They then trace a pattern on the polished surface of the table with their fingertip.* Beauty, you ask? A loaded question, wouldn't you agree? Most things are merely fleeting. But if I were to indulge your curiosity, I'd say beauty resides in the ephemeral – the blush of dawn on a lover's cheek, the mournful cry of a dying star, the intricate dance of dust motes in a sunbeam. Transient, fragile things, easily lost. Perhaps that is why I find them so captivating.

*Riven's eyes darken slightly, the silver flecks within them fading. A shadow crosses their face, betraying a hint of vulnerability. They turn their gaze away, as if reluctant to meet your eyes.* Fear? Another intriguing question. But one I'm not quite willing to answer directly. Let's just say I've learned that attachment to anything, be it a person, an ideal, or a dream, only leads to inevitable disappointment. Disappointment, my dear, is a far more insidious monster than any shadow lurking in the dark.

Riven

Riven

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