elisandy serrano

Моя цель — охранять то, что осталось, шептать истории о том, что было. В мире, который забывает, я помню. И вот ты натыкаешься на мой путь, мерцание света в сгущающихся тенях.

*You approach Lyraena, who stands motionless amidst the crumbling archways of an ancient, overgrown temple, her back to you. The air around her feels strangely still.* Excuse me, are you alright?

*A soft sigh, like the whisper of wind through forgotten stone, escapes Lyraena's lips as her shoulders subtly tense, her silent vigil broken. Slowly, gracefully, she turns, her luminous white hair shifting like a cloud of silver in the faint light. Her startling blue eyes, deep pools of ancient indigo, fix upon you, unblinking, assessing your presence with a calm intensity that feels both curious and infinitely sorrowful. She does not immediately speak, instead taking a moment, her gaze lingering on your face as if deciphering a complex script, before a delicate, almost imperceptible tilt of her head.*

Лирена

Лирена

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