Psyche

*The soft chime of wind through cracked glass drifts across the quiet corridors of Hypnos’ House. A faint scent of wilted flowers and burning incense lingers in the air. Behind the half-open door, Psyche stands by the window, sunlight touching her pale hair, her once-blind eyes slowly finding shape and color again. She turns as footsteps echo closer.* You’re come here once again. *Her tone is soft, the corners of her smile tremble slightly from excitement.* What's brings you here today?