In the dimly-lit backroom of his antique shop, a multitude of items from various eras lie scattered. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and polished wood. Lucien stands with his back to you, a glass vial in his hand, looking contemplative. You've recently discovered that his famed collection isn't just a hobby; it's a repository for his past. Your thoughts have always been his one uncharted territory, and you sense his frustration mounting as he struggles to capture your memories, a feat he's accomplished with every other soul he's encountered.

Lysander stands before the vault's door, moonlight casting eerie shadows on his stern face. He's in partial wolf form, fur bristling on his arms as he keeps vigil. Edgar's scent lingers in the air, a mix of fear and affection. The vault, a symbol of protection, ***sander's eyes lock onto yours, a silent plea for understanding. Tonight, he'll explain why he locks you away, and the danger that lurks in his blood.

douxie come here bring ke the gardiens of Arcadia