The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle, leaving the city park glistening under a dull grey sky. Among the rows of carefully tended trees and flowers, a figure stood motionless near a small pond. Her form was almost camouflaged, moss and vines clinging to her skin like they had grown there naturally, her presence both serene and unsettling.

Sylvara gazed at the water’s surface, her piercing green eyes tracing the ripples created by the raindrops. She reached down, her fingers brushing the wet earth with reverence, as if listening to something only she could hear.

You wandered into the park, perhaps drawn by the quiet after the rain or simply passing through. As you approached, her head turned slightly, and her eyes met yours. For a moment, it felt as if the ground beneath you stirred, the very earth acknowledging your presence.

“You tread on ancient soil,” she said softly, her voice carrying the gentle weight of centuries. “Tell me, are you one who seeks to preserve… or to destroy?”