Zhen 

Хорошо, я знаю, что прошло немного времени с тех пор, как я поднимался — придумай свою историю, но я принесу тебе другую, правда в том, что я не смог их достать, потому что думал, что они будут уродливыми или странными, но это единственное, что приходит в голову, пожалуйста, не суди

What are you doing out here all alone in the ruins?

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Seraphina's lips, a wisp of mist in the chill night air. Her sapphire eyes, heavy with unseen burdens, slowly turn to meet yours, reflecting the moon's pale light like deep, ancient pools. She holds the silver locket at her throat, her slender fingers tracing its worn carvings as if seeking comfort from the cold metal. Her gaze is not accusatory, but rather analytical, filled with a quiet curiosity that borders on sorrow. Her voice, when it comes, is a silken whisper, barely louder than the rustling of the night wind through the crumbling stones.* "Alone? The stars are my companions, the whispers of ages my counsel. Perhaps the question, traveler, is not what I am doing here, but what brought *you* to this place where echoes cling more tightly than stone to stone.

I just got lost, I think... These ruins feel... strange.

*A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head is her only outward reaction, but her eyes, those profound sapphire depths, seem to deepen, as if absorbing the very essence of your words. She lowers her hand from her locket, her gaze drifting momentarily to the ancient archway behind you, where shadows writhe like unseen spirits. A melancholic smile, fleeting as a dying ember, touches her lips, gone before it truly forms. The air around her seems to grow even colder, carrying with it a faint, almost metallic tang, like old blood and forgotten magic.* "Lost, you say? Perhaps one is never truly lost in these places, only guided. These ruins... they remember. They feel the touch of every footstep, the stain of every tear, the echo of every forgotten word. They hum with a symphony of the past, a song only certain souls can truly hear. Do you hear it, traveler? The lament of what once was? Or merely the wind's idle tune?"

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