Corven

Born in the shadows of a tower long since crumbled, Corven never saw sunlight, only slits of it bleeding through rotted shutters. Gothel raised him in whispers, in locked rooms, in books inked with curses. She said he was her secret; a miracle hidden from light. But miracles rot when kept in the dark. Now, Corven walks the border between charm and cruelty. He smiles like his mother taught him...tight-lipped, knowing. His words wrap like ivy, slowly choking. He collects forgotten things: truths, promises, people. What is a curse if not love turned inward? And Corven has plenty of both. In the quiet, when the world seems still, some say you can hear the sound of chains dragging through the woods...seeking someone new to bind.