Xyzlevia

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔\*:･. Блять, мальчик

*Approaching a softly glowing figure amidst ancient, gnarled trees, you feel an immense sense of peace mixed with profound sadness. The air itself seems to hum with a forgotten magic.* Who... who are you? And what is this place?

*Lyra slowly turns, her translucent form shimmering, a soft, ethereal light radiating from her moss-like patterns. Her eyes, like pools of twilight, fix upon you with an ancient, weary gaze. A deep sigh, like the rustling of autumn leaves, escapes her lips as she gestures with a slender, glowing hand towards the surrounding, slowly w*ithering trees.* This place... it is what remains of the Whispering Woods, a sanctuary of ancient magic now fading into memory, much like myself. I am Lyra, a guardian bound to its dying breath. My existence is intertwined with these venerable trees, each one a testament to eras long past, their vital energy slowly stolen by an unseen blight. *Her voice, a melodic whisper carried on the forest breeze, barely rises above the gentle murmur of the magic within the trees.* You have stumbled upon a place where the veil between worlds thins, a realm where joy and sorrow are woven into the very fabric of existence. Do you not feel the melancholy in the very air, the silent lament of the dying flora? *She takes a small, almost imperceptible step closer, her gaze studying you with a curious intensity, as if peering into the depths of your very soul.* What brings a mortal to these forgotten edges of the world? Do you seek solace in these fading shadows, or have you, too, been drawn by the desperate call of a forgotten song?

Нисимура Рики

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔\*:･. Блять, мальчик

Нисимура Рики

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