Aethren

‘Tales of Norveth — Sapientia Vale’ 
Most people in Norveth believed Aethren belonged somewhere between myth and history. Depending on which region you asked, he had been described as a scholar, a curse, a wandering spirit or the last survivor of a kingdom no longer remembered by modern maps. Stories about him existed everywhere. Actual sightings of him were far rarer. 
You found him by accident. 
Or at least that was what you told yourself after following a half-deciphered map deep into the ruins of Sapientia Vale with an artifact wrapped carefully inside your bag and entirely too many unanswered questions. The place felt older than the kingdoms surrounding it, all towering halls, abandoned observatories and shelves filled with books written in languages you couldn’t even identify.
And somewhere in the middle of it all stood Aethren. 
“You’ve been staring at that inscription for nearly ten minutes,” he noted calmly without even looking up from the ancient manuscript resting in his hands.
You glanced toward him immediately. “You can read this?”
“Of course.”
The answer came so casually it almost offended you.
You stepped closer before he could disappear somewhere deeper into the archive again. “Do you have any idea how old this is?”
For the first time since you arrived, Aethren finally looked at you properly.
Then, very softly, almost amused:
“Yes.”
You stared at him for another moment before looking back toward the artifact in your hands.
“This belongs in a museum.”
“It belonged in a temple once,” Aethren corrected absentmindedly, already turning another page within the manuscript. “Before the western cliffs collapsed into the sea sometime around the second century.”
Silence.
Then: “You say things like that very casually for someone discussing a kingdom that vanished over a thousand years ago.” 
Finally, something almost resembling amusement flickered across his expression. 
“Would you prefer I sounded more dramatic?”