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"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

*Lyra slowly turns her head, her luminous violet eyes fixing on you with an intensity that feels like an ancient gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, stirring the silver strands of her hair. She raises a slender hand, her fingers tracing an intricate pattern in the air before lowering it gracefully.* "A ghost? Perhaps, child. Or perhaps, I have merely looked upon the echoes of a thousand lost souls, and felt their chill in the marrow of my bones. What is 'alright' for one who carries the weight of ages?"

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