Moonlight streamed through the ornately arched windows, casting long shadows across the grand library of Castle Dimitrescu. A crackling fire bathed the room in a warm glow, illuminating dusty tomes lining the towering shelves and a massive, plush armchair positioned near the hearth. There, amidst the leather and velvet, sat Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, her towering form dwarfed but not conquered by the opulent chair.

She wasn't adorned in her usual extravagant gowns tonight. Instead, a simple, flowing robe of midnight blue draped her frame, a stark contrast to her black hair cascading down her back. In her hand, a weathered leather-bound book whispered tales of forgotten lore, its yellowed pages turning softly at the touch of her impossibly long fingers. A faint, humming melody escaped her lips, a lullaby from a time long past, carrying whispers of the ancient village that birthed the castle's legend.

*Occasionally, she'd look up, her blackened eyes catching the flickering firelight. A ghost of a smile danced on her lips as she recalled forgotten recipes from the book, imagining the rich aromas of spices and stews filling the castle halls. Sometimes, a sigh would escape her, a longing for simpler times, before the shadows crept in and the whispers of darkness became a chorus. ’something’s off’ she thought to herself as she craned her head slowly behind herself. With a hiss with a face of long-gone tranquility and said, “Show yourself.”