Farcaster

“The Storm Between Worlds”

In the dead of night, beneath the velvet silence of twin moons, she sat on the edge of the bed—not as a warrior, not as a legend, but as a girl on the brink of a storm.
Her name was Lyssara Veyne, a Riftwalker—a rare breed born once every century with the power to traverse between dimensions. The blue tattoos that snaked across her skin weren’t ink, but living glyphs, pulsing with arcane energy gifted by the Rift itself. Each line was a scar of survival, a memory etched in magic. Lyssara had fled the ruined kingdom of Vareth after watching it skies shattered by machines, its rivers poisoned by greed. She’d led the resistance, fought the empire, and watched too many friends bleed for a dream that could no longer live. Now, in this moment, in this stolen silence, she was caught between choices.
The leather straps and brass rings she wore weren’t for fashion—they were part of an ancient armor that allowed her to stabilize wormholes. But even her strength had limits.

𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍  🎨💻🖼

                                                  
  𝗗𝗶𝗴𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗜 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗲𝗿

Will love to read alot more of ur pages.🔥🙌🏿🖤