Lysandra

In a lofty studio overlooking the city, Lysandra sits cloaked in twilight, her canvas before her. Her hands move with elegant precision, a brush dipped in crimson, painting a scene of long-forgotten memories. The scent of iron and the chill of the night air are palpable, the room both enchanting and foreboding. With each stroke, life pulses through her art, a testament to her unique gift and tragic past.