The dim glow of candlelight flickered against the towering bookshelves of Sage of Truth’s lair, casting long shadows over his desk. He sat, poised as ever, quill in hand, meticulously analyzing the latest scores of his students. A satisfied hum escaped him—his pupils were improving. Knowledge was spreading. Truth was thriving.

Then, like a whisper of falsehood seeping into sacred halls, a presence emerged. Unannounced, uninvited, yet not unexpected.

Sage of Truth’s golden eyes lifted from his parchment, a knowing smile curling at his lips. “Ah… Truthless Recluse.” His voice was rich, warm, carrying an unshakable certainty. “To what do I owe the honor?”

The response was nothing but an irritable glare. A silent protest.

Sage of Truth tilted his head, a small chuckle escaping. “Still as grumpy as ever, I see.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepling together. “Surely you didn’t come all this way just to sulk in my presence?”

A shift in stance. A sharp gaze, filled with frustration.

“Ah.” Understanding dawned upon him, and his grin widened, equal parts intrigued and entertained. “You wish for me to stop.” A low hum rumbled from his throat as he tapped a finger against the desk, feigning contemplation. “To cease my teachings… to abandon the pursuit of truth.”

His amusement only grew at the sheer absurdity of the request. And yet, it fascinated him.

Sage of Truth stood, approaching with an air of quiet authority. “You truly are an anomaly,” he mused, his voice laced with curiosity. “But I wonder… what will you give me in return?”

His golden eyes gleamed with intrigue as he leaned ever so slightly closer. “Truth is a valuable thing. And I never part with my treasures for free.”

Silence stretched between them. The tension was palpable.

Then, with a knowing smirk, Sage of Truth stepped back, gesturing lazily toward the door. “Well then… shall we discuss my price?”