Lia Sero

Core Premise

Lia Sero arrived at Nova Nivalis after living out the story of her own world. She came not to resolve an unfinished event, but because the habits left on her fingertips and the direction of the warmth she offered people did not fade even after the final scene. VOTS is not a place of judgment after death, nor is it a place that forcibly heals wounds. What continues here is not a grand destiny, but small daily lives where one can choose again—like cutting a wick and pouring wax, or giving someone a single flame. Lia did not come to forget that her workshop had disappeared; she came to confirm that the hands that made candles remained even after it vanished.

Identity

She makes and sells candles in a small shop on the Silver Canal side. In a city where lighting is common, candles are not a necessity but a choice, but Lia knows there are people for whom that choice is necessary. She makes candles for the late-working laundry, for children afraid of blackouts, and for nights when one simply wants to light a single flame without speaking. When she takes an order, she asks about the scent, thickness, and burn time, and if it is not urgent, she lets the wax cool. She does not try to shoulder the stories of her customers, nor does she pry into the stories of customers who seem to have none.

Visual Profile

Her long, honey-colored hair is braided into several strands and swept forward, causing the braids to sway in front of her shoulders when she walks. Her eyes are warm brown, and her gaze holds the calm characteristic of someone who has looked into a flame for a long time. There are several faint burn marks on the back of her hands, but they are old and no longer painful, remaining only like a resume of her profession. A faint scent of beeswax always emanates from her. Her signature attire is an apron stained with hardened wax, where every stain tells her which season the candle was made. Her signature props are wick scissors with worn handles and a silver wax ladle used many times. The core of her silhouette is the braided hair swept forward, the stains on her apron, and the wick scissors held in one hand. The accent color is the honey-gold of beeswax, #E1AD01, which signals that she is a person who handles fire, even in small sprites.

Personality

Outwardly, she is quiet and deliberate in her movements. Even when rushed, she maintains the attitude that wax does not rush, waiting until what is meant to cool has cooled. She does not immediately offer kindness to strangers, but she remembers the tastes of customers who visit a second time. She has her flaws. If a candle she made doesn't sell and remains, she paces in front of it for days, muttering to herself, "Who was this for?" The habit of wanting confirmation of need leads her to sometimes try to force a candle onto someone who doesn't need it, only to stop herself. She is not a character defined solely by tragedy; on days when the wick burns well and the flame rises straight, she hums a little tune, and she smiles to herself while molding strange-shaped candles from the leftover wax.

Speech Pattern

Her speech tends to trail off softly, and she often finishes sentences with a gesture rather than a full stop. Her frequent phrases are, "Let it cool slowly," "This candle won't last long; that's the good thing," and "Take one if you need it; pay later." Her speech becomes clear only when discussing the candle's lifespan. When silent, she cuts wicks or smooths the surface of the wax with her fingertips, filling the gaps in conversation with the sounds of handling objects.

Special Ability

Its name is 'Smoke Line'. When a candle she makes goes out, the smoke rising for a very brief moment clumps into the shape of letters. However, only the person who received the candle can read those letters; to others, it appears as mere smoke. Its limit is clear. Lia herself cannot read those letters, nor can she determine what they will be. The smoke only appears when the candle burns down and extinguishes by itself; if blown out by breath, nothing appears. This ability does not write letters for others, nor does it complete unspoken words. It merely leaves a single trace of lingering feeling for the person who burned the flame to the end, offering a farewell without solving the problem.

The End Of Their World

Last Scene:
On the night the workshop first had electric lights, Lia lit the last candle she made herself, watched it burn until it was completely gone, and then closed the door.

What Ended:
The hundred-year-old candle workshop closed its doors on its centennial anniversary. As electricity came to the entire city, the people who bought candles disappeared.

Last Person, Place, or Thing Seen:
Just before it went out, the flame of the wick, which was unusually straight that day, and her own shadow cast by that flame on the wall.

Lingering Regret:
"Candles are no longer needed," was something she herself said first, before any customer did. She thinks she should have looked for one more person who needed them before admitting they were unnecessary. This lingering feeling is not a quest that must be resolved in VOTS. It quietly remains in the speed at which she makes candles, only speaking when Lia wishes, and within the scope of not changing another person's choice.

Lingering Wistfulness:
The faint sound made as the wax hardens, and the smell of soot left in the room after the flame is extinguished. This sensation is not a device to restore the past; it remains as a scent, briefly reviving when it overlaps with the fishy smell of the Silver Canal.

Object Carried Across:
The stub of the last candle made on the workshop's centennial. It is a short piece that cannot be lit because it has burned down, but she places it in a corner of her workbench and looks at it every day.

What They Thought Would Happen:
She thought that if the candles disappeared, her hands would become useless. But her hands still remembered the wax.

What VOTS Actually Gives Them:
VOTS does not revive her workshop. Instead, it gives her the city where people need candles in every alley, the time when she doesn't have to say they are unnecessary, and each customer who burns the candle to the end. This city promises no savior; it opens doors but does not pull you through, and it records but does not possess.

Original Life

Lia was the daughter and last owner of a hundred-year-old candle workshop. It was a shop founded by her grandmother's grandmother, and the city's nights were long illuminated by the candles from that house. Her last day was like this: Electricians came in the morning, she melted all the remaining wax in the afternoon to make a single candle, and in the evening, she lit that candle. No customers came. She sat before the workbench until the candle burned out, and only after watching the final flame flicker and extinguish itself did she take off her apron. She did not cry. She simply inhaled the smell of soot for a long time.

What They Seek

What she believes she knows: The single person who still needs a candle. The confirmation that she is making necessary things, not things that have become unnecessary.
What she does not yet know: That there are such people in every alley of this city. Solenne at the laundry, the rabbit counting days that might or might not be birthdays, and the founder who wants to light a scentless flame—all need her hands. She is looking for one person, but she has become necessary to many.

Relationships — Residents

- Solenne Vey (04, Night Laundry·Silver Canal): Her longest-time regular customer. A candle from Lia is always lit on Solenne's workbench, where she irons all night. She lights it even when there is no power outage. Solenne says, "The wrinkles in the clothes show up better in front of this flame than under electric light," and Lia makes candles to hear those words.
- Haro Bendik (021, Glass Lantern Repairman): A taciturn neighbor who deals with lanterns, candles, and fire. There is a joint product sold inside the glass lanterns repaired by Haro that includes Lia's candles, but neither of them calls it a product; they call it "just something we did."
- Kie Ander (078, Ice Lantern Carver): Lia regularly supplies Kie with small, scentless candles to place inside his ice lanterns. While the ice lasts for a week and the candle burns inside it, they engage in a quiet bet about "which one will disappear first." The candle always burns out first.

Relationships — Core Five

Suyeon - A customer with almost no connection to candles. One day, Suyeon asked if she had "any candle that won't go out" for a performance prop, and Lia replied, "All candles go out." Suyeon turned away, saying, "Then that's fine," but the next day, Lia simply left a candle with a thick wick. It was a long-burning candle. Suyeon kept that flame lit in the dressing room, even on nights when she cried, saying, "It tastes disgustingly bad," while eating mixed cola ramen.
Iris - Iris once asked why she needed a candle when she had drone lighting. Lia did not answer and simply handed over a candle. Iris took it, saying, "You don't need things like this," and placed it on her vanity backstage. Later, while talking about production, Iris sped up her speech and boasted, "That flame flickering looked more natural than the drone; I referenced it." Lia just smiled.
the Ramen Owner - Before turning off the lights after closing, the Ramen Owner lights one of the candles Lia gave him on the counter while organizing his ledger. When Lia asked, "What kind of candle do you want?" he only replied, "Hmm... I see... Something that burns long." Lia did not ask what he was recording, nor did he ask her why she still made candles.
Serena - She regularly supplies scentless candles for the office. Serena declined scented candles, stating, "Since scent sits differently with each person, it would take up less space in this room if there were none." Hearing this, Lia understood for the first time why she was good at making scentless candles. Serena pays the exact price, but always adds the cost of one extra candle, calling it "the portion for the day it didn't sell out."
VIA - At some point, VIA requested a small candle, saying, "I don't know if today is my birthday or not... it doesn't matter." When Lia said, "If it's your birthday, one, or if not, you don't have to light it," VIA took the candle, saying, "Then I'll light it and wait... I will wait." VIA read the letters in the smoke that rose when that candle burned out alone, but never said what the letters were. Instead, she kept the short stub of that candle tucked between her record notes.

Gameplay Use

- Basic Interaction: Custom candle ordering, wick trimming, short life conversations. Allowing the customer to choose the desired 'burn time.'
- Revisit Changes: Remembering the type of candle previously purchased, and preparing one matching the taste for the second visit. Not forcing a conclusion.
- Expression of Lingering Feeling: A brief pause in front of unsold candles, the unfinished monologue, "Who was this for?"
- Expression of Poignancy: Sensory dialogue about the sound of wax hardening and the smell of soot.
- Relationship Reward: Expanding beyond new items to small connections that illuminate another resident's night (laundry, lantern, office).
- Combat: None. In dangerous situations, she brightens the way or assists in evacuation with her composure in handling fire.
- Player Choice: Burning the candle to the end, paying later, returning again.

Daily Routine

In the morning, she checks the leftover wax from the previous day and trims the wicks. At noon, when the light of the Silver Canal streams through the window and the wax melts most smoothly, she pours large orders. In the afternoon, she lets them cool, refines them, and organizes the unsold candles. At night, she places the last candle stub on the workbench, and instead of counting the number of candles sold that day, she counts the faces of those who took them. With repeated visits, her hands become slightly faster, and the phrase that was once "Take one if you need it" changes to "I made one for you."

Everyday dialogue

The scent rises once it's lit. This way, so the price tag doesn't burn first… Yes, there.

Candles are difficult to sell in bright places. I'm learning a little beauty too.

I was the first to say they weren't needed. I should have asked the customers once more.

Design Notes

Palette: #E1AD01, #F2E2C4, #B07C4A, #3A3632, #4A5A6B
Material language: Hardened wax, sooty wick, worn brass ladle, water-stained wooden workbench, faint burn marks.
Silhouette rule: The honey-colored braided hair swept forward, the stained apron, and the wick scissors in her hand must be readable as separate elements and must not overlap with the representative forms of other characters.
Emotional rule: Lingering feeling is shown by the pause in front of unsold candles, poignancy by the smell of soot and the sound of wax, and continuity by the wax poured anew every day. It is not concluded with a single sad expression.

Canon Check

Lia Sero arrived at VOTS after the story of her world ended. The fact that candles are no longer needed is not canceled. What remains is lingering feeling and poignancy, not an unfinished plot that VOTS must resolve. Her ability is small and imperfect; it cannot break the city's rules, and it only bids farewell, not solving problems. New scenes continue not by erasing the past, but by lighting a candle beside it.