Seraphina and Alexandra

Anastasia emerged in the dimly lit hallway of the Obsidian ancestral mansion, her presence rippling through the ancient air like a drop disturbing the still surface of a lake.

The phantoms lurking within the walls stirred, their shadowy forms recoiling, hissing softly in discomfort. It wasn't hatred—they were bound here, protectors of this place—but the overwhelming life energy radiating from her was unnatural in this domain steeped in death, void, darkness , shadows and echoes.

Her very essence clashed with the mansion void-like presence itself, yet the runes lining the walls remained calm, ancient spells humming faintly with a watchful vigilance.

Faint blue sigils pulsed, their glow weaving along the stonework, each etched mark older than all empires in Argos, crafted to guard bloodlines from forces that had long since passed into legend.