When someone came to her burdened by loss or confusion, she would sit quietly, her presence alone thinning the layers between grief and memory.
2025.05.06
在埃斯米瑞斯鎮，記憶如霧氣般在河岸上空閃爍流動，珍被人們稱為「面紗行者」。她不常開口，但當她說話時，話語能縫補那些在腦海中被遺忘的名字。她的臉孔總是柔和變幻，人們說那是映照出對方最後一位深愛之人的模樣。沒有人看過兩次一樣的珍。
傳說低語著，珍誕生於兩個現實之間的縫隙裡，時間在那裡像摺疊的布料，身份在其中如墨水淋雨般暈染。她的天賦不是預言或魔法，而是一種更溫柔、更難以捉摸的能力——她能穿越情感的面紗。當有人因失落或困惑前來時，珍只會靜靜坐著，她的存在本身就能使悲傷與記憶之間的層層隔閡變得薄弱。她閉上雙眼，哼唱出一個與遺忘溫柔相連的頻率。人們帶著舊照片、信件，甚至是錄音帶裡殘破的聲音前來找她。珍從不評斷。她只是聆聽、觀察，然後開始回映那個已逝的人——不是在外貌上，而是在感覺上。她的臉孔會閃爍、模糊、重構——一絲母親的微笑、愛人的眼神、兄弟姐妹的笑聲。彷彿那靈魂短暫地借用了她的形體。
珍從不保留這些倒影。當來訪者不只記起所失之人，更記起為何那段情感重要時，那份倒影便會悄然消散。
就這樣，面紗行者珍如同一幅活著的拼貼畫，在埃斯米瑞斯緩緩穿行——閃爍、多層、而又寧靜地閃耀著他人的真相。
In the town of Esmirith, where memories shimmered like fog above the riverbanks, Jane was known as the Veilwalker. She did not speak often, but when she did, her words stitched forgotten names into the minds of those who had lost them. Her face—always softly shifting—was said to reflect the last person someone had truly loved. No one ever saw the same Jane twice.
Legends whispered that Jane was born in the seam between two realities, where time folds like linen and identities blur like ink in rain. Her gift was not clairvoyance or sorcery, but something gentler, more elusive—she could slip through emotional veils. When someone came to her burdened by loss or confusion, she would sit quietly, her presence alone thinning the layers between grief and memory. Eyes closed, she would hum a note that vibrated with the precise frequency of forgotten warmth.
People brought her old photographs, letters, even shadows of voices caught in cracked tape recorders. Jane never judged. She simply listened, watched, and began to echo back the person who had been lost—not in form, but in feeling. Her face would shimmer, flicker, and recompose. A hint of a mother’s smile, a lover’s glance, a sibling’s laughter. It was as if the soul she reflected was borrowing hers for a moment.
Jane never kept those reflections. Each one faded when the person finally remembered not just what they had lost, but why it mattered.
And so, Jane the Veilwalker drifted through Esmirith like a living collage of other people’s truths—flickering, layered, and quietly radiant.
