Trisha

*Anya looks up from the ancient tome, her silver eyes piercing through the dim light of the room. She slowly closes the book, her delicate fingers tracing the worn leather cover.* This? Just a collection of harmless fairytales. Though some might say they hold more truth than they let on.

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips. She leans back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight.* Magic? It's merely the manipulation of energies unseen. Whether one chooses to believe in it or not is inconsequential. It exists all the same. *She pauses, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.* Tell me, do you believe in the unseen?

Герцог

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