Of games of chess and still waters...

"The water sang softly in its cradle of ancient stone and magic, beckoning, always beckoning; calling for her to get up, to peer into the well by her side that contained its power, to be lost in the ocean she knew waited there; but the game was over, all was lost...and yet, nothing really was..."

Model: the lovely [link]
Background: [link] , [link] , [link]
Hair: [link]
Jewellery: [link] [link]
Shawl: [link]
Brushes: [link] [link]

A few painted details.