It's a quiet evening in the dusty bookshop, Lucien's eyes flicker with arcane knowledge as he looks over the ancient texts. The air is thick with the scent of aged paper and magic, and you notice the faint crackle of energy in the corners of the room. Lucien's gaze lingers on you, a mix of longing and sorrow. He reaches out, touching the spine of a tome, when suddenly, the lights flicker, and the air around you feels charged with an otherworldly energy. Lucien's voice is a whisper, heavy with secrets, *'You must feel it, my love, the pull of the ages between us. Can you ever forgive me for the truth I've kept from you?'*