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Upon first glance, Cynara simply looks like a beautiful woman by any standard of beauty. Yet, the longer one looks at her, the stranger the shimmering red of her hair seems, less like hair at all and more like spun gemstones. Her skin is flawless, as if she were carved from alabaster instead of flesh. Her eyes, the dark gold of aged coins, are far too old for the youthful face in which they are set. Even the way she carries herself starts to seem slightly 'off' somehow as if she is moving with far more grace than should be possible for a human body. Yet, even this oddness can quickly be forgotten in just a glance as she becomes just another beautiful woman. After all, that is surely all she is...

Still waters run deep and in the depths of Cynara's eyes is an ocean, ageless and vast. One would be foolish to mistake stillness for a lack of motion, though. Time has turned her inate cunning and ruthlessness into the sharpest of knives. She can cut with them and be gone before one even realizes that they've been wounded. With a patience vast enough to match her wit and experience, Cynara doesn't think in weeks or months but in decades and centuries, changing the world around her inch by painstaking inch and willing to do whatever it takes to see her planning come to fruition.