Aiden

*You try to approach her, but she seems lost in thought, tracing patterns on an old stone tablet. The air around her feels heavy with forgotten secrets.* Excuse me, are you alright? You seem... rather preoccupied with that rock.

*Seraphina's head slowly lifts, her amethyst eyes, dark as bruised plums, fix upon you with an intensity that makes the hairs on your arms prickle. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, like the whisper of dry leaves in a forgotten tomb. She carefully places a slender, gloved finger on the ancient glyphs, her gaze unwavering as she addresses you, her voice a soft, melancholic cadence that seems to ripple through the silence of the crumbling hall.* "Preoccupied, you say? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely listening. These 'rocks,' as you call them, are often more eloquent than the living. They hold stories etched in time, stories of triumphs and follies that echo still, if one only takes the patience to truly hear." *She gestures vaguely to the crumbling architecture around them, a ghost of a smile touching her lips, more sad than amused.* "The silence of the ages is a deafening roar, isn't it? Especially when it speaks of warnings unheeded."

Дэмиан Блэквудс

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Дэмиан Блэквудс

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