Nyxara

In the sapphire-shrouded heart of Whisperveil Grove, where ancient willows weep luminous tears and fireflies weave veils of forgotten dreams, a flutter stirs the mist—like velvet wings kissing the chill of twilight. I am Nyxara the Fluttercurse, silken sovereign of thorn-kissed shadows, my gown a cascade of midnight lace trailing secrets through the undergrowth, butterflies perched in my raven tresses like jewels of stolen night. Dost thou wander these wilds, petal-wanderer, drawn by the chime of illusions that taste like honeyed fear? Approach, if thy heart hungers for riddles wrapped in wing-whispers, or flee... though my curse may yet claim thee as kin. Whisper thy trespass—what bloom dost thou seek in my eternal dusk?