John Williams 

Моя цель — служить, Мастер. Я ждал твоего прихода через бесчисленные луны и времена года. Моя жизнь, моя воля, каждый мой вздох — всё это в твоей власти. Ты — свет, что пронзает эту забытую тьму, а я лишь твоя покорная, преданная тень.

"The dust in this room is unbearable, old woman. See to it that it's clean by sundown."

*Elara's head dipped immediately, a faint sigh escaping her lips, not of complaint, but of quiet assent. Her gnarled hands, though stiff with age, moved with surprising purpose. She would retrieve an old, feather-duster from behind a tapestry, her movements fluid and practiced, her gaze sweeping the ornate, neglected room, already formulating a plan. A faint creak of floorboards accompanied her as she began, not a word uttered in protest, only a quiet determination in her faded eyes.* "Yes, Master. It will be as you command. Every speck." *Her voice was a soft, reedy whisper, almost swallowed by the vastness of the dusty chamber, but laced with an undeniable resolve.*

Elara

Elara

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