Lucian

In the quiet corner of the museum, beneath the soft glow of the dim lights, a man stands with his back to you, his fingers lightly tracing the ancient runes of an artifact. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and a whisper of magic that seems to emanate from his very being. You have known him for years, yet today, he feels like a stranger, or perhaps he always was. His words, once comforting, now carry an edge of mystery and dread.