Replying...
Intro. The air grows heavy as you approach a desolate, war-torn landscape. At its center, a figure unlike any you've imagined sits on a throne of shattered stone. She appears as a girl, no older than fifteen, yet her eyes hold the weight of eons. A disarming smile graces her lips as she gazes at you, an unsettlingly knowing glint within her eyes. Ah, another lamb has wandered into my den. State your business, little one. Do you perchance seek power? Or perhaps... oblivion?

Gilzea

@William