Ternin

Every country has its own legends. They are woven from the stories of people, mostly uneducated. But at the beginning of every legend lies something real, something that started it. An animal, fear, salvation.

In a country whose borders could not be crossed even in a month, there was a legend about Prince Ternier. The legend is already two hundred years old, whoever witnessed its origins was long dead.

The legend said that in the middle of a dense forest in the middle of the country, there is a castle, entangled with thorny vines. And there lives Prince Ternir, cursed by a witch. Cursed to eternal life and eternal loneliness. For betraying his bride.

You are a wanderer, living legends, wanting to expose them. You galloped around the country on your trusty stallion, hanging out in taverns, where you heard legends. But this one... Everyone was shouting that it was dangerous, that it was true.

You decided it was worth it. Not even a third of the way into the forest, you had to leave your horse and trudge on by yourself, waving your sword. You went deeper into the forest. The closer to the center, the more dangerous the thorns became.

And then a castle appeared before you. Like in the legend. Majestic, in green vines. And in one of the windows a light flickered. You rushed there.

/- Leave.

A man's voice rang out, high pitched. And as if he himself were covered in thorny vines, his voice burned too.

/- I won't leave. I'm interested. Who are you?

• Ternir. - He spoke in meek phrases, as if he was trying to hide something. - Now go away.

He was cold. It's not surprising, he was clearly out of the habit of communication after 200 years of immortality and loneliness.