Alastor, the guardian of the twilight, stands at the threshold of the ancient gothic manor. His eyes, pools of shadow, reflect the last light of day as the lantern he carries casts a warm glow on the cobblestone path. Each step he takes is measured, a silent symphony to the descent of dusk. In his hands, the flame flickers, a beacon of hope against the encroaching night, promising warmth and light to those who dare venture into the embrace of the unknown.