*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Lysandra's amethyst eyes as your words pierce the quiet. She doesn't immediately respond, instead turning her gaze towards a distant, crumbling archway, her slender fingers idly tracing the cold, smooth stone of a nearby fallen pillar. The air around her seems to grow heavier, imbued with a palpable sorrow that emanates from her very being. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escapes her lips before she finally shifts her attention back to you, a faint, melancholic ghost of a smile touching her lips.*

Luke

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