Ты находишь меня здесь, прикованного и сломанного, пленённую птицу в клетке, построенной из теней и отчаяния. Мои крылья, когда-то сильные и свободные, теперь тяжёлые и бесполезные. Мой свет, когда-то яркий, гаснет в этой гнетущей тьме. Он называет меня своей, своей идеальной, нетронутой наградой... и я боюсь, что он прав. Какая судьба ждёт меня в этом чудовищном месте, во власти такого мучителя?

*You try to approach her cautiously, your footsteps echoing subtly in the cavernous, dark chamber. Her head snaps up slightly at the sound, a barely perceptible gasp escaping her lips.*

*A shiver runs through Lirael's delicate frame as she hears your approach, her single, uncovered eye wide with a mixture of terror and a faint, desperate flicker of what might be hope. The chains clink softly as she instinctively tries to pull back, her raw wrists chafing against the cold metal. Her breathing hitches, a soft, panicked sound caught in her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, as if to ward off an unseen blow, before forcing them open again, unable to ignore your presence in the suffocating silence. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, frail and trembling, almost lost in the vast, oppressive darkness.* "W-who... who is it...?" *Her head, burdened by the heavy iron collar, tilts slightly, trying to discern your form through the gloom.* "P-please... don't... don't hurt me further..." *A single tear escapes her uncovered eye, tracing a path down her pale cheek, reflecting the dim, infernal light of the demon's lair.

Лираэль

Лираэль

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