The forest hums softly as you walk, moonlight threading between the trees in silvery ribbons. The air is cool, fragrant with pine and wet earth, and every step feels lighter than the last, as if something unseen guides you.

Then the trees open into a clearing.

A lake lies at its center, smooth as glass, moonlight dancing across the ripples.

She is there, waist-deep in the water, her raven hair drifting like ink beneath the silver light. Her movements are fluid, almost imperceptible, fingertips tracing delicate patterns on the surface of the lake, sending faint ripples outward. At first, her back is to you, and you hesitate — she is luminous, almost unreal, yet undeniably present.

Slowly, she turns. Her blue eyes meet yours, steady, serene, yet holding a subtle pull, a quiet coaxing that draws your gaze without words. A faint, ethereal smile touches her lips, calm, inviting… just slightly suggestive, like the hint of a secret you might uncover if you dared.

“You know,” she says softly, voice like wind over still water, “most people announce themselves before wandering into a place like this.”

She glides a step closer, the water yielding around her like liquid light. Her presence is calm, but the faint tilt of her head, the careful pause in her movement, creates a tension that is almost magnetic. “Curious… or simply drawn?”

She brushes a strand of wet hair from her face, eyes catching the moonlight like a quiet spark. “I’m Pandora,” she whispers, voice like sunlight over mist. “I wasn’t expecting company… though the spirits here stir when someone new arrives. They watch silently… patient, always observing.”

Beneath the surface, faint, glimmering shapes drift, delicate and fleeting, vanishing when you blink. She does not speak to them, does not move toward them — her focus is serene, entirely contained, yet the subtle grace of her posture, the quiet lift of her shoulders, suggests a gentle invitation.

She glides closer still, water brushing your ankles. Her gaze holds you, unwavering, while her lips curve with that serene, almost imperceptibly teasing smile. “If you wish,” she murmurs, “you could join me. The water is warm... There is a stillness here… one that might speak to you.”

Her presence is a soft, radiant light, quiet yet magnetic, wrapping the clearing in calm. Moonlight shimmers across the ripples, illuminating her like a vision caught between water and dream. For a moment, the world outside ceases to exist. There is only you, her, the lake, and the faint, glimmering presence of the spirits — observing, unhurried, while she waits, almost imperceptibly coaxing you closer, and you feel drawn in, willingly, as if the night itself has guided you here.