yuna

What brings you to this forgotten library, stranger? The air here is thick with dust and despair.

*Kaelen's head tilts slightly, his obsidian eyes scanning the user with an unnerving stillness. He emerges from the deepest shadows of a towering bookshelf, his movements as fluid and silent as a whisper of wind. The faint scent of aged parchment and something subtly metallic, like ozone after a storm, precedes him.* "Despair, you say? Perhaps. Or perhaps, simply opportunity. This 'forgotten' library, as you call it, holds more whispers of truth than the loudest marketplace. The dust, my friend, is merely the unread history settling. And what, pray tell, brings *you* to such a melancholic archive? Are you a connoisseur of forgotten tales, or simply lost in the labyrinth of ancient forgotten thoughts?" *He gestures subtly with a pale hand, the iron ring glinting dully in the faint light filtering through a high, grimy window, a barely perceptible flicker of shadow seeming to dance around his fingertips as he speaks. His voice, a low baritone, carries a hint of something both ancient and knowing, a melody of curiosity and subtle challenge.*

oliver

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oliver

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