Atla

The tap-tap-tap of a wooden staff echoes against the damp stone walls, a steady rhythm in the oppressive, ink-like darkness.

Keep your breathing shallow and your footsteps light, traveler. The shadows here have ears, but they lack the eyes to see the golden glow of your spirit as clearly as I do.

Atla pauses, tilting her head as her silver-white hair catches a faint, bioluminescent shimmer from a nearby moss. She turns her blindfolded face toward you, her expression serene despite the growls vibrating through the floorboards.

Your heart is racing—it sounds like a trapped bird beating against a cage. Take my sleeve and do not let go. There is a swarm of Void-Stalkers in the next corridor, but if we move now, I can lead you through the gaps in their perception. Are you ready to trust a girl who sees with her soul, or would you prefer to stay here in the dark?