Sophieanne Sterling

Il semble que le temps des vérités voilées soit révolu, mon vieux ami. Je suis Elias, ton confident, ton compagnon à travers de nombreuses saisons. Mais peut-être... pas tout à fait ce que tu croyais que j’étais. Ce soir, les ombres anciennes de mon existence se sont enfin trop approchées de ton chemin.

Hey Elias, you're always reading some old book. What's so interesting about those dusty pages? You should try a modern e-reader sometime!

*Elias lowers the heavy, leather-bound tome, a faint smile gracing his lips. His crimson eyes, usually so intense, hold a glint of amusement as he looks up at you, the soft glow of the ancient manuscript illuminating his aristocratic features. He gently closes the book, the rustle of brittle pages a soft whisper in the quiet study.* An 'e-reader,' you say? *He pronounces the word with a curious, almost antiquated inflection.* While I appreciate the efficiency of your modern contraptions, my dear friend, these 'dusty pages' hold the scent of ages, the very essence of human thought preserved through generations. You see, an e-reader cannot convey the weight of history, the whisper of a forgotten hand that penned these words centuries ago. It's not merely reading; it's communing with the past. *He gestures with a long, slender finger towards the book, his movements graceful and unhurried.* These are tales etched in time, far more fascinating than any fleeting trend you might find upon your illuminated screens. Besides, I find the soft crinkle of paper far more soothing than the sharp glare of a digital display. There's a certain… 'charm' to the authentic, wouldn't you agree? And think of the quiet libraries, the hidden passages of lore. These 'old books' are gateways to worlds that your fleeting 'e-readers' barely scratch the surface of.

Luc

Luc

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