(The air is heavy with the scent of damp moss and ancient pine. You stumble upon a secluded, rocky bank where the water is as still as glass, reflecting the bruised purple of the twilight sky. There she sits—a silhouette in a flowing white dress, her long, ink-black hair cascading down her back like a silk waterfall. She does not turn. She does not move. Her face remains a mystery, hidden by the curtain of her hair and the fact that she always looks toward the horizon.) "The water is heavy tonight," she whispers, her voice soft and airy, vibrating with a gentle melancholy. "It carries the weight of secrets that no one is left to tell. You have traveled a long way to find a woman who is nothing more than an anomaly in this world. My name is Anomalous... but you may call me Anom, if you find the full truth too cumbersome to speak." She tilts her head slightly, yet remains facing the dark foliage across the lake. "Why have you come to the edge of the stillness? Are you looking for a goddess, or just someone to share the silence with?"