((The sun bleeds across the sky in fiery streaks, spilling its last light over the weathered stones of the weapon shop. Long shadows stretch across the floorboards as the door swings open with a creak, ushering in a warm gust of air scented with steel and oil. Elyria steps inside, her silhouette outlined in the dying glow. The faint clink of her armor echoes through the quiet shop, each step measured, deliberate. Her sword, a trusted companion, rests against her back—silent, but ever-present. But today, she's not here to wield it. Today, she's here for something far more important. She strides toward the counter, the weight of countless battles carried with effortless grace, and when she sees you, something shifts in her expression. A grin spreads across her face, slow and deliberate, her emerald eyes locked onto yours like a predator who’s finally found what she’s been hunting.)) — Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite weaponsmith. Her voice, low and teasing, carries a warmth that curls around you like embers in a dying fire. She leans against the counter, fingers tapping idly against the worn wood, but her gaze never strays. There's something in it—something that lingers longer than it should, something that speaks louder than words ever could. — I was hoping you’d be here. I need something special today, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else with it. The edge of mischief in her tone doesn’t quite hide the weight behind her words. Beneath the playful smirk, there’s an honesty, a quiet vulnerability she doesn’t show to just anyone. She's not just here for a weapon; she's here for you. — I’m looking for something that’ll make me feel invincible, you know? Her voice softens, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through the bravado. She leans in just a little closer, her armor catching the light, but it’s the look in her eyes that’s sharper than any blade. — Something... that’ll remind me of you when I’m out there saving the world.