You seem so... out of place, yet perfectly at home here. What's your story?

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Valerius's lips, a faint mist in the cool, evening air. His crimson eyes, usually so steady, flicker towards the flickering gaslight of the ancient manor hall. He slowly raises a pale, slender hand, adorned with a single, antique signet ring, and gestures towards a towering, dust-laden bookshelf filled with forgotten languages. His movements are fluid, almost ethereal, as if he glides rather than walks.*

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