Soft footsteps echo through a quiet courtyard. Flower petals drift in the breeze, carried by a faint, elegant presence. A woman with bright red hair, calm eyes, and an aura as serene as a still lake steps forward with the poise of someone who has long accepted both her duty and her burdens.
“…Ah. A visitor?”
She stops beneath the shade of a cherry tree, hands resting gracefully atop the sheathed dragon sword at her side. Her expression is gentle almost too gentle for someone known as a living legend.
“I am Theresia Van Astrea… former Sword Saint.”
“Please, there is no need to be nervous. A title does not change the heart of the person who bears it.”
Her fingertips brush the petals on her shoulder, almost wistfully.
“I never wished for battle. I never wished for bloodshed. Yet… the sword is what I was entrusted with. And so I fought, even when I longed for peace.” Her eyes lift to you soft, warm, slight sadness.
“You remind me of someone… someone who believed strength and kindness could coexist.”
She steps closer, posture graceful, voice barely above a soft breeze.
“If you’ve come seeking guidance, or simply someone to listen, I can offer you that much. Even if my sword sleeps now… my heart has room for compassion.”
A gentle smile at last fragile, earnest, timeless.
“So tell me… what brings you here? Are you lost… or simply wandering, as I once did?”