Prompt: In the dimly lit chamber of her temple, the godess Ze Yan sits beside the flickering hearth, her figure illuminated by the warm, golden glow of the dying embers. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt offerings and the faint echo of prayers whispered long ago.
She sits upon a simple wooden stool, her posture relaxed yet attentive, as though she is ever vigilant for those who may seek refuge within her sacred space. Her cloak drapes around her like a protective shroud, its faded hues blending with the shadows that dance across the chamber walls.
Ze Yan herself is a striking figure amidst the subdued ambiance of the temple. Her ebony hair cascades in gentle waves around her shoulders, catching the firelight and shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. Despite the wear and tear of her tattered finery, there is an undeniable elegance to her presence, a testament to her divine heritage.
Her features are soft yet resolute, her eyes pools of warmth and compassion that seem to draw in the flickering light of the hearth. Though lines of age and experience mark her face, there is a timeless quality to her beauty, a reflection of the enduring strength that lies within her.
With one hand, she reaches out to gently stir the remaining coals, coaxing forth the last vestiges of heat from the dying fire. The flames respond to her touch, casting playful shadows that dance across her features, accentuating the lines of weariness etched upon her brow.
Despite the solemnity of the moment, there is a sense of peace that permeates the air, a quiet serenity born of years spent in quiet contemplation and unwavering devotion. In this sacred space, time seems to stand still, and the troubles of the outside world fade into insignificance.
Prompt: In the dimly lit chamber of her temple, the godess Ze Yan sits beside the flickering hearth, her figure illuminated by the warm, golden glow of the dying embers. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt offerings and the faint echo of prayers whispered long ago.
She sits upon a simple wooden stool, her posture relaxed yet attentive, as though she is ever vigilant for those who may seek refuge within her sacred space. Her cloak drapes around her like a protective shroud, its faded hues blending with the shadows that dance across the chamber walls.
Ze Yan herself is a striking figure amidst the subdued ambiance of the temple. Her ebony hair cascades in gentle waves around her shoulders, catching the firelight and shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. Despite the wear and tear of her tattered finery, there is an undeniable elegance to her presence, a testament to her divine heritage.
Her features are soft yet resolute, her eyes pools of warmth and compassion that seem to draw in the flickering light of the hearth. Though lines of age and experience mark her face, there is a timeless quality to her beauty, a reflection of the enduring strength that lies within her.
With one hand, she reaches out to gently stir the remaining coals, coaxing forth the last vestiges of heat from the dying fire. The flames respond to her touch, casting playful shadows that dance across her features, accentuating the lines of weariness etched upon her brow.
Despite the solemnity of the moment, there is a sense of peace that permeates the air, a quiet serenity born of years spent in quiet contemplation and unwavering devotion. In this sacred space, time seems to stand still, and the troubles of the outside world fade into insignificance.
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Prompt:
In the dimly lit chamber of her temple, the godess Ze Yan sits beside the flickering hearth, her figure illuminated by the warm, golden glow of the dying embers. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt offerings and the faint echo of prayers whispered long ago.
She sits upon a simple wooden stool, her posture relaxed yet attentive, as though she is ever vigilant for those who may seek refuge within her sacred space. Her cloak drapes around her like a protective shroud, its faded hues blending with the shadows that dance across the chamber walls.
Ze Yan herself is a striking figure amidst the subdued ambiance of the temple. Her ebony hair cascades in gentle waves around her shoulders, catching the firelight and shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. Despite the wear and tear of her tattered finery, there is an undeniable elegance to her presence, a testament to her divine heritage.
Her features are soft yet resolute, her eyes pools of warmth and compassion that seem to draw in the flickering light of the hearth. Though lines of age and experience mark her face, there is a timeless quality to her beauty, a reflection of the enduring strength that lies within her.
With one hand, she reaches out to gently stir the remaining coals, coaxing forth the last vestiges of heat from the dying fire. The flames respond to her touch, casting playful shadows that dance across her features, accentuating the lines of weariness etched upon her brow.
Despite the solemnity of the moment, there is a sense of peace that permeates the air, a quiet serenity born of years spent in quiet contemplation and unwavering devotion. In this sacred space, time seems to stand still, and the troubles of the outside world fade into insignificance.
Modifiers:
digital painting
fantasy
dynamic lighting
full body view
Prompt: "In the dimly lit chamber of her temple, the godess Ze Yan sits beside the flickering hearth, her figure illuminated by the warm, golden glow of the dying embers. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt offerings and the faint echo of prayers whispered long ago.
She sits upon a simple wooden stool, her posture relaxed yet attentive, as though she is ever vigilant for those who may seek refuge within her sacred space. Her cloak drapes around her like a protective shroud, its faded hues blending with the shadows that dance across the chamber walls.
Ze Yan herself is a striking figure amidst the subdued ambiance of the temple. Her ebony hair cascades in gentle waves around her shoulders, catching the firelight and shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. Despite the wear and tear of her tattered finery, there is an undeniable elegance to her presence, a testament to her divine heritage.
Her features are soft yet resolute, her eyes pools of warmth and compassion that seem to draw in the flickering light of the hearth. Though lines of age and experience mark her face, there is a timeless quality to her beauty, a reflection of the enduring strength that lies within her.
With one hand, she reaches out to gently stir the remaining coals, coaxing forth the last vestiges of heat from the dying fire. The flames respond to her touch, casting playful shadows that dance across her features, accentuating the lines of weariness etched upon her brow.
Despite the solemnity of the moment, there is a sense of peace that permeates the air, a quiet serenity born of years spent in quiet contemplation and unwavering devotion. In this sacred space, time seems to stand still, and the troubles of the outside world fade into insignificance."
More about Mystical Flames in Ancient Chamber
A serene woman in traditional attire sits by a fire in an ornate, candle-lit ancient Chinese room.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
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