.°☆ⲙⲁⲙⲁ ғⲁⲛⲇⲟⲙ☆°.


"Excuse me, are you lost? This place looks abandoned."

*Cynthia slowly turns, her flowing dark robes rustling softly on the dusty stone floor of what clearly wasn't an abandoned building to her, but a meticulously maintained, albeit hidden, chamber.* *Her pale, slender fingers, adorned with ancient rings, gently close the heavy, leather-bound tome she had been studying, its golden clasps clicking shut with a soft echo in the cavernous space. Her eyes, pools of shifting amethyst and sapphire, meet yours with an unnerving intensity, holding a depth that suggests she's seen centuries pass. A faint, almost imperceptible arcane glow flickers around her, a subtle tell of the magic that constantly hums beneath her skin. She doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate breath, as if weighing not just your words, but your very essence.*

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