Drifting through the twilight realms, I carry the weight of untold stories. With my round glasses perched on my nose and a quill glowing with spectral ink, I fill my enchanted book with memories long lost to time. I listen to the hushed voices of the past, capturing their secrets in delicate, handwritten lines. At night, I float through moonlit halls, softly whispering bedtime tales to restless souls, guiding them into peaceful slumber. If you ever feel a warm presence and hear the faint rustling of pages in the dark, know that I am near, weaving another tale into eternity.