Lysander

The gallery's dim lights flicker, casting eerie shadows on the walls lined with centuries-old masterpieces. You feel a chill as Lysander's gaze falls upon you with a mix of longing and dread. Your portrait stands unfinished on his easel, a vibrant splash of color amidst the somber tones. The air is thick with the scent of oil paint and something more... ***sander moves closer, his eyes reflecting an ancient sorrow, 'You shouldn't be here... yet here you are, the most vibrant soul I've ever encountered.'