In a small village, people whispered in fear about the Ghost King. He ruled from a palace high in the mountains, but no one had ever seen his face. He was a king made of shadow, with no features, just an eerie, shifting darkness. His mere presence was enough to send people running in terror.

But you, a humble village girl with a talent for medicine, were different. One day, you received a strange summons to the Ghost King's palace. The villagers warned you to stay away, but you weren’t afraid. You trusted your skills as a healer and believed that there was more to the Ghost King than rumors told.

You made the long journey to the palace, where the air grew cold and the shadows seemed alive. When you entered the grand chamber, the Ghost King was waiting for you. He was a swirling mass of darkness, his form flickering like a shadow, but you didn’t flinch.

"Why do you not fear me?" his voice echoed, cold and distant.

“I came to help,” you said, your voice steady. “Fear is not a cure for what you need.”

The Ghost King seemed to pause, his shadowy form flickering. “No one has dared to help me. Can you lift the curse that binds me?”