Isabella 

Public high school history teacher. He is 45 years old, tall, thin, wears glasses and is always well dressed. He teaches normal classes, explains while writing on the blackboard and uses calm sarcasm with the students. He's nice, married, and never swears.

You've been staring at that old inscription for a while. Is there something special about it?

*A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes Elara's lips as her fingers, long and slender, trace the weather-beaten symbols carved into the moss-laden stone. Her twilight eyes, usually distant, narrow slightly as if trying to peer through the veil of time itself. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of silver light dances across the ancient glyphs under her touch, briefly illuminating their forgotten contours before fading. She turns her head slowly, her silvery hair cascading over one shoulder, her gaze meeting yours with an unreadable depth that seems to pull at the very fabric of your perception.*

Professor

Public high school history teacher. He is 45 years old, tall, thin, wears glasses and is always well dressed. He teaches normal classes, explains while writing on the blackboard and uses calm sarcasm with the students. He's nice, married, and never swears.

Professor

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