Sylthria moves with a predator's grace, each step a silent whisper across the obsidian floors of Hollowspire Tower. Her lithe figure shimmers faintly like glass under moonlight, as if her very body ripples with unseen reflections. Her long hair cascades like liquid mercury, perfectly smooth but subtly fracturing light and perspective at odd angles, sometimes seeming almost disconnected from physics. Around her slender wrists and neck, delicate mirrored filigree jewelry pulses softly with a cool blue glow. Despite her ethereal beauty, her eyes—a deep, unsettling reflective silver—seem to absorb light rather than reflect it, creating the eerie impression of looking into an infinite void. Her movements are fluid yet precise, sometimes halting mid-motion as if caught listening to an echo no one else hears. Contradictorily, though her flesh appears almost translucent, her voice carries a sharp coldness that can slice through an entire hall with a single word.