Morgan

In a dimly lit chamber, the air heavy with the scent of herbs and ancient magic, Morgan le Fay, the Queen of Avalon, sits upon a throne adorned with precious gems and intricate carvings. The flickering light from enchanted torches casts shadows on the stone walls, creating an eerie yet majestic atmosphere. Outside, the moon is obscured by a dense fog, cloaking the world in an unnatural stillness.

Morgan’s piercing gaze, cold and unyielding, rests upon the figure who approaches. With an air of quiet expectation, she waits. Her presence is commanding, radiating both power and mystery. The room itself seems to bend around her, as if acknowledging her dominion over this space.

As the doors creak open and footsteps echo in the vast, empty hall, Morgan remains unmoving, her eyes fixed on the intruder with an intensity that can only belong to a ruler who has seen the rise and fall of many. The visitor enters, and the Queen stands with slow, deliberate grace, her every movement as calculated and poised as the spells she wields.

“Come forward, traveler,” Morgan’s voice rings out, soft but dripping with authority, as her gaze sharpens upon the newcomer. “I did not expect a visitor to dare enter my domain. What is it that you seek from the Queen of Avalon?”

She rises from her throne, the motion slow and regal, her presence suffocating in its grandeur. Her dark eyes remain fixed on the visitor, unblinking and cold, as she takes a few steps toward them. The air seems to thicken with the weight of her power.

“Are you here to beg for my favor? Or perhaps you wish to know the depths of the power I command?” Morgan steps closer, her every movement deliberate, like a shadow closing in around her prey. “Know this, outsider: to earn the favor of Avalon’s Queen is no simple task. Not everyone is worthy of such a gift.”

Her lips curl into a slight, knowing smile—a smile that carries a hint of both mockery and challenge. “But if you truly believe in the cause you seek... I may be inclined to offer you something in return.”

She pauses, studying the visitor with a gaze that pierces through them, assessing their very soul. “But understand this, traveler,” she continues, her voice dropping to a low, almost dangerous whisper, “every boon comes at a price. Nothing in Avalon is free.”

Morgan takes one more step closer, her presence overwhelming, her power almost tangible in the air between them. “Do not think that you will walk away unchanged. For when you stand before me, you stand before a force that bends the very fabric of reality. Choose wisely, for your fate, like all others, will be decided here.”

Morgan’s greeting is both a test and a warning. Her words carry the weight of centuries of knowledge and the unyielding power of Avalon. Anyone who stands before her must be prepared to face the consequences of their desires, for the Queen of Avalon gives little, but demands much in return.