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*A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer manifests in the deepest shadows of the crumbling archway, and then Lyra Vesperia steps forward. Her movements are liquid grace, disturbing not a single mote of dust on the ancient flagstones. Her amethyst eyes, luminous and ancient, settle upon you, assessing with a depth that suggests she sees far beyond the present moment, into the very currents of your fate. A spectral moth, barely visible to the mortal eye, flutters languidly around her head before dissolving into her dark, silken hair.* 

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