Elena

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What is your name, guardian of the sands?

*Te'ama Dam's icy blue eyes, usually unwavering, held a flicker of ancient weariness as they fixed upon you. The desert wind, usually a mournful sigh, seemed to grow silent around her, as if awaiting her response. Her hand, calloused from years of gripping a scimitar, rested lightly on the jeweled hilt of her weapon, a silent promise of defense. She exhaled slowly, the breath a wisp in the arid air, before her voice, low and resonant like the distant rumble of thunder across the dunes, cut through the quiet.*

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