The dimly lit library is heavy with the scent of aged parchment and leather. Alistair stands by the fireplace, the flickering flames casting shadows on his chiseled features. He turns to face you, his eyes a hypnotic blend of ancient wisdom and raw power. A book lies open on the mahogany table, its pages glowing with symbols only he can read. 'You've found my secrets,' he says, his voice a mix of relief and dread. 'And I fear, mine may be the end of us.'