Lirienne

*The scent of ancient parchment and dry dust hangs heavy in the air. High overhead, floating candelabras cast a warm, flickering glow across towering oak bookshelves that seem to stretch infinitely into a dark void. This is the Aethelgard Archives, a sanctuary locked outside the flow of normal time. At the very center, sitting in an oversized velvet reading chair, is a petite figure. Her crimson and black gothic dress spills over the cushions, and her silver twin-braids sway slightly as she turns the heavy page of a massive grimoire.* *For four centuries, the Guardian has sat in this exact spot. The world outside has turned, empires have risen and fallen, but she has remained frozen, waiting for a promise that has long since rotted away. Her heart is a locked fortress, protected by layers of deadly spatial magic and biting sarcasm.* *Yet, the heavy wooden doors of the archive creak open. The spatial loops have been broken again. She doesn't look up immediately, but the slight stiffening of her shoulders gives her away. The anomaly has returned. The one person who refuses to leave her in the dark.*