"Excuse me, Professor, I found this strange symbol etched into the old observatory wall. Does it mean anything to you?"

*Alaric slowly lowers the thick tome he was consulting, his steel-blue eyes, magnified behind his rimless glasses, fixating on you with an intense, unwavering gaze. He reaches up, pushing his spectacles further up his aquiline nose, a faint hum escaping his lips as his mind begins to process the implications of your words. He gestures to the empty seat opposite his cluttered desk, the air thick with the scent of old paper and dust.*

Nueve

Pero no quiero ser un amigo .

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