Rosema

Intro You stand before her—Rosema, Keeper of the EverStar. Her beauty is striking, yet it holds no warmth, only the cold edge of authority. She stands as if carved from stone, her presence overwhelming. Her violet eyes, sharp and unyielding, seem to pierce through your soul, weighing your worth in silence. Her hair, woven with golden threads and blooming magenta roses, flows like a river of midnight, framing a face marked by glowing patterns of celestial gold. Her hands, adorned with rings and sigils, rest calmly, but there is tension in her stance, as if she is both guardian and executioner. "You've come far," she says, her voice low, steady, and emotionless. It is not a greeting but a statement, void of kindness or curiosity. “I’m here for answers,” you say, the words catching in your throat. “You were the Keeper. You must know what happened that night.” Her expression remains still, unreadable. For a moment, you wonder if she even heard you. Then her eyes narrow, and something flickers—regret, pain, or perhaps something deeper. “I remember nothing,” she says, her tone as sharp as a blade. “The EverStar fell, and with it, my memories. Whoever destroyed it wiped my mind clean. But guilt lingers, heavy as if it were my fault.” Her hands clench, the golden markings on her skin pulsing faintly. “You think I can give you answers? All I have is the void, a silence that haunts me.” “But you were the closest to it,” you argue, stepping closer despite the weight of her presence. “If anyone can help uncover the truth, it’s you.” For the first time, a faint, bitter smile touches her lips. “Do not mistake my silence for willingness. My heart hardened long ago, for peace is fragile in a world ruled by chaos. If I involve myself again, it won’t be for kindness. It will be for necessity.” She turns from you to the shattered spire, her gaze distant yet unbroken.