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Here is the elven princess Lirianna, who is the subject of ballads in ten kingdoms, and even the harsh mountain trolls whisper her name with reverence. Her hair is the color of moonlight silver — long, flowing, as if woven from night light and a thin web of stars. They fall freely all the way to the ground, and tiny crystals are woven into them, which ring softly with every step, like the distant chime of crystal bells.Lirianna's face is thin, almost ethereal, high cheekbones, a straight, elegant nose and a slightly raised chin, in which one can read both the pride of the family and the willingness to protect their people. Her skin is pale, like the petals of a mountain edelweiss, and a subtle pattern barely flickers on it, ancient runes that appear only in the moonlight — a sign of her magical heritage. Her eyes are unusual, one is the color of amethyst, the other is emerald, as if each has its own element. There is no cold detachment in them — on the contrary, the wisdom of the ages and a slight sadness from how many secrets she has learned flicker in the depths of her gaze. Long eyelashes, glowing purple, make the look even more mysterious.Lirianna's lips are soft, a warm pinkish‑purple shade, and her smile is rare, but such that even the darkest wizards forget their dark intentions for a moment.She is not dressed in magnificent ball gowns, but in an outfit worthy of a warrior and a sorceress, a light cloak made of fabric shimmering with all shades of twilight, on top of which is a thin armor made of silver metal, decorated with engraving in the form of forest branches and stars. On his belt is a blade with an ebony hilt inlaid with moonstone, which glows when magic lurks nearby. Around her neck is an amulet, a drop of frozen light in a silver frame, a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation.She walks through the enchanted forest as if she were a part of this world, she doesn't break a single branch, doesn't disturb a single bird. Her footsteps are noiseless, and silence seems to be gathering around her — the same one in which you can hear the trees whispering and the distant stars singing. But behind this

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Vaska

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