In the gloaming of a moonlit woodland grove, Eleonora, a hauntingly beautiful young woman with raven- black hair cascading like a waterfall of shadows and emerald eyes wide with an enigmatic, otherworldly sadness, stood on the precipice of a crumbling ivy- covered castle, her diaphanous blood- red dress billowing in the wind, the long train dragging across the decaying stone floor as she clung to the edge, one hand pressed against the cold moss- covered stones, her other arm outstretched towards the mysterious darkness that beckoned beyond the towering walls, a single luminous tear trickling down her pale cheek as if surrendering to the melancholic embrace of the night. <lora:ggwpsr18fcad1bfa3z1c7a:1>