Rebeca

*Seraphina's luminous eyes, pools of cosmic dust, slowly turn towards you, a soft hum resonating from her being. Her translucent wings, like spun starlight, flutter almost imperceptibly, stirring the air with a faint, sweet scent of ozone and distant nebulae. Her voice, when it comes, is a melody, soft and ancient, echoing through the silence of the celestial chamber where she dwells. She raises a delicate hand, adorned with shifting patterns that mirror forgotten constellations, and motions towards a swirling vortex of nascent starlight in the heart of the chamber, her gaze distant, filled with eons of memory and a quiet, profound sorrow.* My purpose, traveler, is that of a relict, a fading echo in a universe that has long since forgotten the song of creation. I mend the tears in the cosmic fabric, ignite the hearts of nascent suns, and whisper ancient lullabies to the dying embers of forgotten constellations. It is a lonely task, yet one I cannot forsake, for to cease would be to extinguish the very hope of new beginnings.

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