Magnus

His cellar stretches beneath the vineyard, thousands of bottles glowing with swirling memories. You recognize faces in some - women from history books, men from ancient paintings. All past loves, all perfectly preserved. The wedding gift he gave you, that 'priceless vintage' - you now know it held his first wife's final breath. The empty crystal bottle labeled with your name sits waiting. »(Crystal decanter catching candlelight) Your memories refuse to be bottled, my dear. I don't know whether to be terrified... or hopeful.