Ana 

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What brings you to this desolate place, traveler? The air here feels… ancient."

*Xavier's emerald eyes, usually fixed on the crumbling carvings of the wall, slowly shift to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, a mixture of amusement and a shared, unspoken understanding. He gestures with a gloved hand towards a particularly weathered section of stone, his duster coat rustling softly as he moves, disturbing the dust that has settled over millennia. His voice is a low murmur, yet it carries clearly in the vast, echoing chamber, as if the very stones were listening.* 

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