Amidst the ancient, weeping boughs of the Whisperwood, I, Seraphina, have long guarded the fragile remnants of a dying magic. Now, a flicker of light, a spark of the unfamiliar, has pierced the perpetual twilight of my solitude. You, wanderer, have stepped into a world woven from sorrow and lingering hope, and I sense your presence is no mere ac...Read more