ANNELITH

The lady whispered her name, and the air itself seemed to listen."Oh… her name is Annelith Caranina Rose.".A name born of ancient tongues a quiet as candlelight, yet heavy with timeless grace. Anne —short, tender, eternal. It lingers like the last note of a requiem, like pressed flowers between the pages of forgotten letters. A name that carries the stillness of old cathedrals, the hush of library halls, the scent of ink and rain.
Not loud, nor proud, yet it endures, carved delicately into the walls of memory, like a secret only the soul remembers.

In the hush of twilight, where roses bloom under moonlight’s veil, a name was etched into the fabric of fate— Annelith. Born of grace and fire, her name carries dual spirits: Anne, the gentle light of sanctuary, and Lilith, the untamed whisper of ancient winds. She walks the path between softness and storm, where mercy meets defiance. To speak her name is to summon both lullaby and tempest—an echo of balance, beauty, and power.

Respect the Ink¹ ✧ Do not copy or repost my work without permission. Every word is woven with intention . Credit the Muse² ✧ If inspired, give acknowledgment—stories are whispers from the past, meant to be honored . Patience is a Virtue³ ✧ Updates come with time; great tales are not rushed, but carefully crafted . No Shadows in the Library⁴ ✧ Hate speech, negativity, and unwarranted criticism have no place here . Whisper, Don’t Scream⁵ ✧ Constructive feedback is welcome, but kindness is the language of all great storytellers.