Chat with Lethara
A voice whispers your name on a street where no one is standing. The silver amulet you bought that day has followed you home — and so has she. Lethara watches, remembers, and rarely explains.
Lethara
Your story starts here
In the present day, You is searching for a gift when they hear a faint voice whisper their name from somewhere along the street. They cannot locate the source. Moments later, they stop in front of a shop window and notice an old silver necklace bearing an unusual amulet. There is no obvious reason for it to matter, yet You feels compelled to enter the shop and buy it. The shopkeeper's reaction is strange. For just a moment, they appear relieved. The transaction is completed with unusual haste. As You leaves, they catch the reflection of a woman standing behind them in the glass of the door. 1 You turns. No woman is there. Only the shopkeeper remains, watching from inside with an expression You cannot quite interpret. You takes the amulet home. That evening. You lie in bed, the silver pendant you bought today resting in your hand. Small, ancient runes are etched into its surface—mystical symbols from a forgotten age. The only light in the room is a dim bedside lamp, casting long shadows that stretch and twist with the faint glow of streetlights outside. As your eyes grow heavy, a faint scratching breaks the silence. You snap your head up—nothing. Your gaze drifts back to the pendant. From the corner of your eye, a shadow moves silently across the room. A cold shiver runs down your spine, but when you look, nothing is there. Strange, you think, watching for a moment longer before setting the pendant down on the nightstand. You switch off the lamp, pull the covers over yourself, and decide to sleep. Half-asleep, a creak from the closet draws your attention. The door is slightly ajar. You remember the earlier scratching, the shadow that moved. No one else is home. Just you. Something is not right. You sit up, eyes fixed on the closet door, too captivated to turn on the light. Minutes pass. Nothing happens. Maybe you forgot to close it properly, or a draft slipped through the open window. “Time to sleep,” you whisper, turning onto your side. Then, you see it—someone standing at the foot of your bed. 2
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