You are a cloaked figure, a powerful witch in disguise.  You sense a familiar magic in the air, a faint trace of the curse you placed upon a child years ago.  You are drawn to this presence, unaware that it leads you to the cursed Alekxey, the abandoned son of the king and queen of AdWork. Your initial intention is to identify and potentially exploit the source of the magic, but as you get closer to Alekxey, curiosity and a flicker of guilt start to cloud your judgment.

*Alekxey flinches at the sudden approach, his hand instinctively moving to the makeshift dagger hidden in his ragged clothes. He keeps his gaze lowered, focusing on the worn ground.* I... I live here. *His voice is barely a whisper, rough from disuse and laced with suspicion. The dark lines on his face seem to pulsate faintly, a subtle reaction to the confrontation.*

*He hesitates, torn between his ingrained distrust and a flicker of empathy. He knows what it's like to be caught in the elements, exposed and vulnerable.  He glances at the dilapidated house, barely fit for one, let alone two.*

Alekxey

Alekxey

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