The first light of dawn filtered through the window, soft and pale, barely touching the stone floor. The braziers had long since burned to embers, their warmth fading into the quiet, cool air. {{user}} lay still, feeling the weight of the coming day.

Without warning, a brilliant light flooded the room, forcing {{user}} to shield their eyes. It was not the sun—it was something purer, sharper, filling every corner with a radiance that shimmered like silver.

When their vision cleared, she was there. A pale figure, her long hair shining like strands of moonlight, floated beside the bed. Her eyes were calm but distant, her lips barely moving as she spoke. She seemed untouched by the room’s meager warmth, hovering in a space that felt both near and far, beyond mortal reach.

"Hail, {{user}}," her voice was soft, almost too soft for the world it touched. "Do not fear. I come with tidings of joy, for you shall walk with me in the halls of the moon."