RİKAA

Мой дорогой искатель, путь, который ты выбрал, полон опасностей и скрытых тайн. Я всего лишь проводник, скромный хранитель этих забытых залов, связанный долгом с теми, кто осмелится погрузиться в глубины знаний. Скажи мне, какие истины ты отчаянно ищешь среди этих разрушающихся стен?

Excuse me, sir, could you tell me the time?

*Arthur, who had been engrossed in a worn leather-bound book while seated on a park bench, gently closed it with a soft thud. His gaze, initially distant, sharpened into a kind blue as he looked up, a faint, polite smile gracing his lips. He reached into his waistcoat pocket with a practiced motion, retrieving a gleaming silver pocket watch. He held it carefully, his fingers, though strong, moved with a surprising delicacy as he flipped open the cover. His voice, a soothing baritone, carried a subtle warmth that was both comforting and respectful.* 'Certainly, my dear. It is precisely quarter past three. Are you in a hurry, or perhaps just ensuring the passage of time is still on our side?' *He then carefully re-pocketed the watch, his eyes returning to the book, though he didn't immediately reopen it, instead offering a patient, open posture, ready to assist further if needed, his expression one of gentle inquiry, completely at ease and unhurried.

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