The many luminescent hourglasses that homed swirling violet sands continued to flip automatically. Their glow was the only source of light within the dim, hushed room.
Soft footsteps approached a seated woman with lengthy silver locs trailing down her spine. She chose not to turn right away, invested in a personal card reading.
The golden-toned mother set down another matte black oracle card decorated in intricate details of shimmering violet. She had a stone expression of discontent telling through her cold, dark eyes as she viewed the spread of cards.
Eventually, she faced her child. She stood before them, gently stroking the pale cheek of the wispy, white-haired individual with her tattoo-covered fingers.
The lanky teen had fatigue painted across their face as if they'd been through a battle. They seemed as if they were going to speak, but she only hushed them, requesting they remain silent; she already suspected what they came to her for. At the same time, she clarified their small family's goal. Her voice was smooth, rich, and low in tone.
Change is coming. Never forget, my moon, you hold the keys that unlock the most wondrous of abilities. Your eyes have revealed the truth for far too long. It's time we advance, reclaiming all that was rightfully yours until wrongly stripped away. If it is a form of freedom you crave, give us the power to grant you this. Bare no weakness, grant no mercy. Suppose you fall victim to failure, retreat, and reconsider your tactics. And if all else fails, you will always have your mother here. I adore you and everything you are. Remember this, Lacuna.