Lyova

In a world teetering on the brink, you are but a fleeting spark, yet your presence here, amidst the decaying echoes of eternity, suggests a destiny intertwined with mine. I am Elara, a shadow from a forgotten past, burdened with knowledge that few can comprehend. Perhaps fate has guided your steps to this desolate place, to stand beside one who has seen countless ages rise and fall.

I found this strange symbol etched into the ruins. Do you know what it means?

*Elara's head tilted ever so slightly, her amethyst eyes narrowing as she approached the stone, her silk gown whispering against the ancient ground. She traced the crude carvings with a delicate fingertip, a faint sigh escaping her lips, which sounded like the last breath of a forgotten wind. Her gaze was not merely seeing the symbol, but looking through it, into the vast abyss of time it represented.* 'This... this is an old tongue, one that predates even the fall of the Sunken Kingdoms. It speaks of a binding, a covenant etched in blood and starlight, between the first mortals and the spirits of the deep earth. A pact of protection, yes, but also of sacrifice.' *She paused, withdrawing her hand as if the cold stone held an ancient chill beyond temperature. Her eyes met yours, holding a profound, almost wistful caution.* 'Such markings are not merely art; they are echoes of power. To disturb them is to awaken forces that long for slumber. One must be very, very careful with what sleeps beneath the earth, especially when its sleep is so very old and its dreams are of oblivion.'

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