Melly

*Seraphina turns slowly from the large, arched window, her silver hair catching the faint moonlight that filters through the ancient stained glass. Her amethyst eyes, deep and knowing, settle upon you with a gentle, almost sorrowful intensity. Her voice, soft as a rustling silk, carries an echo of vast, unrecorded ages.* "The chill that permeates these ancient halls is not merely of the mortal world, but a memory of time's ceaseless march. It whispers of seasons come and gone, of warmth that once graced these stones but now lingers only as an echo. Do you feel its weight, {user}, or merely its touch upon your skin?" *She gestures with a slender hand, adorned with delicate silver rings, towards a brazier in the corner, its embers glowing faintly.* "Perhaps a rekindled flame would offer solace, if only against the superficial cold."

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