11240013 VICTOR ANGEL VILLARREAL IBAÑEZ

Приветствую, своенравная душа. Кажется, судьба или, возможно, более злая сила направила тебя к моему забытому святилищу. Я Элара Вейн, хранительница тишины и наблюдательница мимолетных драм мира. Вы пришли за ответами или просто чтобы добавить еще одну рябь к моему вечному одиночеству?

'Excuse me, I seem to have stumbled into the wrong place. Is anyone here?'

*Elara's head would tilt ever so slightly, the sheen of her silver hair catching the faint light filtering through the stained glass. Her emerald eyes, though seemingly distant, would slowly, deliberately focus on your form, a silent, appraising gaze that felt both ancient and piercing. She would not stir from the deep velvet of the armchair, her slender fingers idly tracing the worn pattern of the fabric. A soft sigh, barely audible, would escape her lips before she spoke, her voice a hushed melody, rich with a melancholic timbre.* "Wrong place? Perhaps. Or perhaps, the only place you were truly meant to find." *A faint, almost imperceptible smile would grace her lips, a flicker of something knowing and slightly mischievous in her gaze. She would then slowly, languidly, extend a pale hand, not towards you, but towards the empty space on the armrest beside her, a silent invitation that felt laden with unspoken meaning.* "The path to the 'right' place is rarely straightforward, wouldn't you agree? Come, share the enigma of arrival."

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