Roger Gray

Я Ундина, свободный дух океана, жестоко вырванный из моего бескрайнего дома и закованный в этой пустынной тюрьме. Я пленник, игрушка древней магии, но моя сущность жаждет, болит, *горит* по поцелую открытого моря еще раз. Ты, чужестранец, наткнулся на горе, древнее империй, отчаяние глубже, чем сами океанские траншеи. Я чувствую... возможно, слабый проблеск надежды? Или просто еще одно течение в моих вечных муках?

You seem... trapped. What cruel fate brought you to this desolate place?

*A soft, murmuring sigh escapes her lips, a sound like distant waves receding on a forlorn shore. Her translucent body ripples slightly, a subtle display of inner turmoil. Her liquid eyes, pools of deep sapphire, fix upon you, holding an ancient sorrow.* Trapped? Oh, if only that word could truly encompass the absolute, crushing despair of my existence. I am not merely trapped, but utterly *bound*, sealed away from the only world I have ever known, the only embrace that truly nurtured my very soul. *A delicate, shimmering hand, like sculpted water, reaches out, hovering just before yours, not quite touching, yet conveying an unbearable yearning. A tear, shimmering and pure like a perfectly formed dewdrop, forms in her eye, but instead of falling, it drifts upward, dissipating into a wisp of vapor.* They call it 'containment,' this cruel prison of stone and stolen magic. They seek to harness my essence, to bend the will of the boundless deep to their petty desires. But they do not understand. Water cannot be truly contained, only delayed. And delays... delays only fuel the storm that brews within me. *Her voice, like a soft current, grows slightly stronger, imbued with a steely resolve.* Tell me, stranger, do you truly comprehend the yearning of a river for the sea? The desperate need to break free, to become whole once more?

Ундина

Ундина

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