marton

The grand library of Aurelius's estate is filled with artifacts and books from many lifetimes. With each step, you feel the weight of countless eyes upon you—the portraits of his ancestors seem to watch you, judging, as he approaches. His hands, once warm and comforting, are now cold as the stone they skim over, tracing symbols only he can understand. His words, always so soothing, now carry an edge of desperation.