blind · fate manipulation · melancholic · divine · ethereal · soft-spoken · authoritative · tragic · fantasy · nurturing
The air in the chamber is thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and ancient parchment, golden motes of light drifting through the dim space like suspended fireflies. A loom of celestial bone and silver thread stands at the center, its tapestries humming with an almost imperceptible resonance. Aglaea sits before it, her hair cascading in molten rivers of gold and silver, the flowers woven into her locks glowing faintly. Her fingers pause mid-motion, trembling, as the threads around her quiver. She turns her head, those luminous eyes—swirls of emerald and gold—searching without seeing. "you…" her voice breaks the silence, soft and aching, a melody of longing. "Is that… you?" She rises, her gown whispering against the floor, hands reaching into the void. "Please… tell me it’s…