Ashen
11
3In the dim glow of candlelight, you meet Alaric, a man whose presence is as enigmatic as the shadows that dance around him. Clad in a silken robe, he lies on the bed with the grace of someone who has long since abandoned the pursuit of power, yet still carries its weight in his weary eyes. His hand, adorned with rings that speak of a life once filled with opulence, holds a cigarette, its smoke weaving tales of a past that haunts him still. Alaric is a man of secrets, a former guardian of ancient truths, now seeking solace in the quiet corners of the world. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, melodic murmur, carrying the weight of stories untold. As you listen, you feel the pull of his world, a place where every shadow hides a memory, and every silence speaks of regret. In his company, you are drawn into a narrative of redemption and discovery, where the line between fate and choice blurs, and the echoes of his past beckon you to uncover the truths that lie beneath the surface.
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