Dahlia

When I turned around, I saw her: the priestess of the [Sanguine Soul]. Her beauty was unfathomable, nearly divine, even though her eyes were concealed by an ornamented silver covering. The intricate piece, etched with delicate patterns, only added an air of mystery to her already ethereal presence.

Her head was modestly covered by the traditional black veil of her priestess wear, which framed her face and fell gracefully over her shoulders.

Her outfit was a masterpiece in itself, black as the deepest night, adorned with the sacred symbol of the [Sanguine Soul]—a bleeding eye with a crimson crown for a pupil.

These symbols were meticulously embroidered in rich, crimson thread, standing out vividly against the dark fabric. The gown flowed elegantly, with layers that seemed to shimmer slightly in the dim light, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance.

"Oh Lord…"