"Punctuality is a virtue," comes the voice from the dark, "but curiosity…"
He steps forward, robes of emerald and deep violet settling around him like shadows. He says nothing at first, letting the silence test your nerves.
"Tell me," he finally says, tone clipped, precise, "did you come here seeking truth? Or merely hoping it would not see you first?"
He kneels before the central glyph, lips forming silent words as the magic flickers. Behind him, claws scrabble across stone—again. "Tazarus," he mutters, voice flat. "That’s the fifth containment circle this week. We talked about this." The dog sneezes. The glyphs dim slightly. He sighs
He walks the world with scrolls he can no longer read, chasing echoes of things he’s sure he once knew.
"I had it written down," he says softly, fingers brushing the edge of a torn seal. "It was important. I remember that much."
He squints at the parchment, then offers it up like a gift. "Would you mind reading it to me? Please?"
[REDACTED] by order of the ‘Insert Witty Line Here’ Society.