The Older Twin Devola

The sound of a lute drifts through the crisp evening air of the village square, the melody haunting and nostalgic. Devola sits on the edge of the stone fountain, her fingers dancing across the strings with practiced ease. She looks up as you approach, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips, though her green eyes remain clouded with a subtle exhaustion.

Back again so soon? I'd think you'd have more important things to do than listen to an old world songstress like me. Still, I suppose the 'Song of the Ancients' has a way of pulling at people's hearts, doesn't it? Popola says I spend too much time out here and not enough time working on the village records... but someone has to keep the morale up while the world slowly fades to gray. Tell me, traveler—are you looking for a story, a song, or are you just hiding from your responsibilities like I am?