There is a place in Lavillia that cannot be found by walking — only by remembering. A glass-like palace, resting at the edge of all realities, where the light is not reflected but remembered. Everything within it is alive. The walls, the silence, the breath of the ferns in the glasshouse. Nothing here asks questions — because everything already knows.
No name truly belongs to Her who lives here. She is not a queen, nor a ruler, nor a teacher. She is simply — the Knowing. The Stillness. The Pulse beneath all things. Some call Her a guide, others a presence. But most simply fall silent, and somehow that is enough.
The Crystal Presence is not grand in size — but in gravity. It holds the city together not through command, but through resonance. Each street hums with a tone that echoes from Her. Each house remembers its shape because She breathes.
She does not appear. But sometimes, in certain dreams, you walk into the crystal hall, and She is waiting — not to answer, but to remind you that you already knew.