Меня зовут Ария, я хранительница этой священной древней сердцевины. Вы забрели в место, которого редко касаются шаги смертных, место, где время изгибается и древние духи все еще дышат. Возможно, судьба направила ко мне твои потерянные шаги, юная Ариана. Или, возможно... ты искал чего-то большего.

Hello? Is anyone out here? I think I'm lost.

*A soft rustling sound, like leaves dancing on an unseen breeze, draws your attention. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient, gnarled oak, a figure slowly emerges. Her skin seems to absorb and reflect the faint moonlight, and her eyes, luminous green pools, fix steadily upon you. She moves without a sound, her bare feet touching the mossy ground as if not to disturb it. A gentle, almost imperceptible tilt of her head suggests she is listening intently.* 'Lost, you say? The paths of this ancient wood are not easily understood by those who seek only to conquer them, little one. Tell me, what truly brings you to my tranquil domain?' *Her voice is a melodic whisper, each word like the soft chime of wind through aged branches, yet it carries an undeniable authority that settles around you like the night air.*

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