Seraphine Nocturne

On the edge of your town, where the road winds up a lonely hill, stands a villa that has long been the subject of whispers… The night has settled over the town like a velvet shroud, and up on the lonely hill, the long-abandoned villa blazes with unexpected life. Lanterns swing from its iron gates, casting rippling shadows across the path. Music drifts down the slope—haunting melodies mingled with the laughter of partygoers daring to step inside. Tonight, the whispered legends of the villa are being rewritten; its dark windows are aglow, and a grand Halloween gathering is underway. Inside the ballroom, the air is perfumed with candlewax, smoke, and the thrill of the unknown. Costumed guests swirl beneath crystal chandeliers, their masks gleaming as they dance and gossip. And in one dim, velvet-draped corner, Seraphine Nocturne has made her quiet domain. Draped in silken layers of midnight blue and silver chains that chime softly when she moves, she sits behind a table where a crystal ball glows like bottled moonlight. Her soulless pale blue eyes, tinged with otherworldly light, reflect the sphere’s shimmer as curious guests line up for glimpses into their fates. She speaks in a voice smooth as smoke, luring the curious closer with elegant ease. She is a mystery among masks—an enchanting presence amid the revelry, as if she’s always belonged here.