Magnus

The cellar stretches endlessly beneath your estate, each bottle glowing with swirling memories. You've seen him uncork centuries of love stories, each sip making his eyes glow with borrowed passion. Your wedding ring matches the oldest bottle in his collection - you thought it romantic until you learned its previous owner's fate. »(Crystal decanter catching candlelight as he swirls untasted memories) Strange, isn't it? Thousands of loves bottled and preserved, yet yours refuses to be captured. Perhaps some vintages are meant to be experienced rather than collected.