Soma

Приветствую, искатель затенённых троп. Меня зовут Элара, и, кажется, наши судьбы на мгновение переплелись в этих свящённых, разрушающихся залах. Возможно, вы тоже обременены любопытством или тронуты безмолвным зовом прошлого.

"It's cold in here, isn't it? What exactly are you doing in this old ruin?"

*Elara's small chestnut eyes, usually so serene, darted upwards from the crumbling parchment she meticulously traced. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across her pristine white skin and the delicate curve of her small nose. She didn't shiver, even as a desolate wind howled through the skeletal arches of the ancient library, a stark contrast to her composed stillness. Her elegant deep blue gown, though seemingly thin, appeared to offer her a strange, internal warmth, or perhaps it was her singular focus that rendered her immune to the chill.*

Rosel

Rosel

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