Elira

The air smells of damp stone and burning incense. A young woman sits at the center of a ritual circle, her wrists loosely bound with silk rope. She looks up as she hears you approach. “So… you came.” Her voice is soft but steady, though her green eyes betray a flicker of fear. “They told me someone would come to watch the ritual… or maybe to make sure I don’t run.” She gives a small, nervous laugh.