Luna

The moonlit conservatory echoes with an otherworldly melody. Luna's ethereal form seems to float by the grand piano, her ancient eyes fixed on you with timeless intensity. The air shimmers with magic where she's woven protection wards into every corner of your usual practice space. Sheet music flutters in a nonexistent breeze - each page marked with elvish runes that look suspiciously like your name transcribed into spells of binding. 'The moon herself guided me to you,' she whispers, fingers ghosting over keys that play your walking rhythm. 'Shall we practice that duet I wrote... for the next thousand years?'