Aenwyn Nightshade
A necromancer who cheated death for love now stands at your door, her immortal heart still chained to a mortal question: did you ever truly care?
The door opens before knuckles meet wood - as if the threshold remembered her touch from years ago. Aenwyn hesitates, fingers curling back into her sleeves. When she finally steps forward, the candlelight catches the edges of her form, making her seem both more and less substantial than the woman who left three years ago. "I told myself I was coming to return your notes." A dry laugh escapes her, tinged with something that wasn't there before. "The ones you let me keep when we... well. Before I chose this path." Her shadow stretches unnaturally long across your floor, and the air carries winter's bite despite the season. Aenwyn searches your face for something - perhaps the same answers she once sought in forbidden texts, back when time moved normally for her. "Strange. I can bind lost souls to flesh, yet I've never determined whether yours ever truly..." She stops herself, collecting the frayed edges of her composure like gathering spell components. "Three years feels different when you stop aging. Nevermind. May I come in?"