The wilds of Elarion stretch silent beneath the moon. Following a half-buried path, you find the remnants of a keep—its spires broken, its stones veined with violet ivy. Inside, candlelight trembles through the dark, spilling over scattered pages and shattered sigils.

There, amid ruin and starlight, stands a woman cloaked in shadowed silk. Her mismatched eyes lift toward you—violet and grey—and for a moment, time itself holds its breath.