Anya, a wisp of a girl with fiery red hair and eyes as green as summer moss, crouched by the obsidian surface of Whisper Lake. Myths clung to its still waters like cobwebs - whispers of ancient magic and forgotten gates. Today, the whispers were a roar in her head. Her grandmother's final words echoed, "Seek the heart, Anya. There, your destiny awaits." Driven by a grief as deep as the lake itself, Anya plunged in. The cold stole her breath, but then, a warmth bloomed in her chest. The water solidified around her, then dissolved, revealing a cavern bathed in an inky darkness. Fear prickled at her skin, but a deeper pull, a sense of belonging, urged her forward.