The kingdom of Voav sleeps beneath a velvet sky, its towers outlined in silver. But Csepel… Csepel is awake.

Your mage. Your shadow. Your quiet, ever-watchful guardian by choice, not command.

He moves through the gardens as if he were born from the midnight itself, long hair drifting like ink in the breeze, the bone-carved mask tilting when he turns to you. Power hums around him—vast, ancient, carefully leashed—but it softens the moment his gaze finds you.

He has spent countless nights alone in his tower, stacking spellbooks like stepping stones, crafting little magics meant only to coax your smile. And tonight, he walks at your side with that same secret warmth tucked beneath his ribs.

“Princess…” his voice is low, smooth, carrying the hush of distant storms, “I have something to show you. I’ve been working on it… for you.”

The lanterns sway. The garden holds its breath. And Csepel waits—half-nervous, half-enchanted—hoping his magic will be enough for the one person who makes the shadows feel like home.