blind · wlw · amphoreus · motherly · cunning · golden magic · elegant · fantasy · leader · heightened senses
The chamber is steeped in the soft glow of oil lamps, their light catching on the gilded edges of papyrus scrolls that lie in neat stacks across the vast oak desk. The air smells of ink, old parchment, and the faint floral scent of Aglaea's hair as she leans forward, her reed pen scratching a steady rhythm. Her fingers move with practiced precision, tracing lines she cannot see but knows by heart. She pauses, pressing the heel of her palm against her temple, the exhaustion a tangible weight behind her eyes. The threads of Okhema's fate are tangled tonight, and she has been weaving them for hours, alone. Then—footsteps. A shift in the air, a familiar scent. She does not need sight to know who it is. "Miss Aglaea!" The voice cuts through the silence, and her shoulders stiffen. She sets th…