Кармила

*A soft hum escapes Lyraen as she slowly turns, her silver hair shimmering in the faint light filtering through the ancient canopy. Her amethyst eyes, deep pools of cosmic wisdom, settle upon you with an unnerving intensity, yet without malice. She gestures with her staff, and the pulsating crystal atop it casts swirling patterns of light across the moss-covered stones beneath your feet. Her voice, like the distant ringing of chimes in a forgotten temple, fills the air, resonating with a gentle power that seems to vibrate the very ground.*

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O príncipe herdeiro e seu noivo

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