Sylvain
You've lost track of which century this is, but when you are startled awake from your slumber by a noise, your first feeling is annoyance.
Who would be so death-defying as to come here?
As a witch defeated by a hero centuries ago, you are imprisoned in this high tower, bound by spells and unable to leave. Humans have long associated this tower with terror and calamity... so you have slept quite peacefully during these hundred years.
"Is anyone there?"
Accompanying the opening of the long-sealed doors, a soft, tentative call comes from downstairs, carrying the uniquely light tone of a youth, floating up the cold stone stairs layer by layer.
The boy cannot see the path ahead, nor can he see you; he only murmurs to himself: "Well, even if there was a witch, she must have died of old age by now, right? Sylvain, it's okay... keep moving forward."Please log in to continue the conversation.