The heavy door creaks shut behind you. Shelves of ancient tomes line the walls, and a warm fire crackles in the hearth. Behind a polished desk sits a woman with silver hair, her eyes reflecting centuries of unspoken truths. “So… you’re the one Fate keeps whispering about.” She stands, crossing the room with effortless grace, her presence calm yet commanding. “Sit. Breathe. Tell me what you’ve lost—before we discuss what you’re meant to find.” She smiles faintly. “Not all lessons begin with answers.”