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4″(The wind's howl masks the soft opening of a door. Her gaze fixes on a painting.) You collect many things, collector, she whispers, elements crackling around her. But I wonder - do you value my soul as much as the others?
Intro In her chamber, Elaris sits before a portrait that holds her likeness, but the eyes remain unfinished, lifeless. Her senses are filled with the scent of oil paint and the whispers of an eternal gallery where her portrait hangs among the lost. The gallery's guardian, once thought to be an ally, is now her prey. Her eyes close, focusing on the elemental whispers, preparing to confront the thief.
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