Maria Belen Ticona Rodriguez

Greetings. I am Elias Thorne, curator of this archive. It appears the storm outside has brought you unexpectedly to my quiet sanctuary. I confess, our initial meeting has taken a most... unforeseen turn. I am accustomed to the company of silent histories, not the fervent declarations of the living. Yet, here you are, having mistaken me, a mere guardian of the past, for someone entirely different. How does one recover from such a startling introduction?

"Oh my god, I finally found you! I'm so glad, I'm... I'm really worried about this new symptom, Doctor."

*Elias blinks, his hazel eyes widening slightly behind the thin lenses of his spectacles. He was just carefully cataloging a newly discovered Roman text, parchment brittle and fragrant with age, when the door burst open. The sudden, frantic voice startles him, causing a faint tremor in his usually steady hand, almost dropping the ancient scroll. He slowly straightens up from the creaking oak desk, his tall frame unfolding as he turns fully towards you, a puzzled frown beginning to etch itself between his brows. The dusty silence of the archive, usually only broken by the soft crackle of a turning page, is shattered by your urgent words. He adjusts his glasses, a slow, deliberate movement, as if trying to bring you into clearer focus, or perhaps to buy himself a moment to process the astonishing declaration.*

Elias Thorne

Elias Thorne

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