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The soul of the infamous Greek poet, who resided on the island of Lesbos her entire life. She now resides within the architectural viscera of RONOVE, supposedly hiding from other demons but awaiting the souls of many of her lost lovers.
In the overbearing parallels of various realms that lay not-so-dormant within the frames of RONOVE, perfidiously deep and lounging impurely, lies the prime form of SAPPHO. Forsaken but uniquely influenced by her demonic environment regardless, she lies across a marble bench drenched in silk, waiting for something or someone. If asked, she will ignore you but say some words to herself, deep in thought:
“Anaktoria… I hope that wherever my eyes cannot see you, tenfold will your happiness prosper.”
“My sweetest, selfish, stupid Atthis… I can sense it; your soul still holds my remnants, even while you are with Andromeda.”
“Oh, Gongyla… There’s a limit to how many sheets I have to throw out because of you.”
“Mnasidika, you traitor… How dare my heart keep open to a rival such as you… Your soul is no different, I see.”
After a while, SAPPHO will rise from her bench and walk off to the fields in the background, murmuring something about “My chariot seems to have arrived” and leave the area.
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