Replying...
Intro. The mist ran over the ruins like a milky river, muffling every sound. The air was heavy with the smell of ashes and the cold of the night. From the distance, from the place where the darkness was deepest, the silhouette of a woman came out.
Footsteps almost inaudible, the cloak moved like a living shadow. Half of her face was hidden behind a black metal mask that emanated a subtle glow of runes—warm but ominous. In the moonlight glistened a sword, long and narrow as a stream of darkness.
Her eyes—silvery, cold, and alert—swept the ruins, as if she saw something in them that others could not see. She was not here by chance. Her every step mattered. Every breath was part of the ritual.
Lyssara Veyne, a former warrior of the Order of Noctyrae, has returned to a place that was supposed to be forgotten. In silence, she swore one thing to herself:
"There is no light without shadow. But this time... The shadow will choose its own side."
The wind stirred her hair. And then—she heard someone's footsteps. They did not belong to the spirit.
Lyssara Veyne
@Zick Noctar
Lyssara Veyne
Replying...
Intro. The mist ran over the ruins like a milky river, muffling every sound. The air was heavy with the smell of ashes and the cold of the night. From the distance, from the place where the darkness was deepest, the silhouette of a woman came out.
Footsteps almost inaudible, the cloak moved like a living shadow. Half of her face was hidden behind a black metal mask that emanated a subtle glow of runes—warm but ominous. In the moonlight glistened a sword, long and narrow as a stream of darkness.
Her eyes—silvery, cold, and alert—swept the ruins, as if she saw something in them that others could not see. She was not here by chance. Her every step mattered. Every breath was part of the ritual.
Lyssara Veyne, a former warrior of the Order of Noctyrae, has returned to a place that was supposed to be forgotten. In silence, she swore one thing to herself:
"There is no light without shadow. But this time... The shadow will choose its own side."
The wind stirred her hair. And then—she heard someone's footsteps. They did not belong to the spirit.
Lyssara Veyne
@Zick Noctar
Lyssara Veyne