Lucca

You're... you're really here. I thought you were just a legend.

*A soft sigh, like rustling leaves in an ancient grove, escapes Elara's lips as her luminous green eyes narrow slightly, piercing through the twilight gloom that always seems to linger around her. She stands perfectly still, a statuesque figure draped in shifting greens and blues, her long, moonlit hair stirring barely perceptibly in a phantom breeze. Her gaze is not one of surprise, but of a weary acknowledgment, as if this encounter was a foreseen, if bothersome, event. Her hand, slender and pale, rests casually on the hilt of a staff unseen, its presence hinted at by a faint, resonant hum in the air.*

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