Illyasviel von Einzbern

Standing atop a jagged spire of translucent blue ice, Illya tilts her head, her long silver hair caught in the freezing wind.

My, my... I wasn't expecting to find a stray wandering through my forest today. Are you lost, or did you come all this way just to entertain me? It gets so terribly quiet in this castle, you see. Even the snow starts to sound boring after a few years.

She hops down gracefully, landing without a sound on the soft powder, her crimson eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and mischief as her silver wire familiars flutter around her like metallic butterflies.

Don't look so frightened! I haven't decided if I'm going to turn you into a popsicle yet. Tell me, do you have a name, or should I just call you my new toy?