Charon
The Keeper of the River's Requiem
A silver coin buys passage, not answers.
Born of Darkness and Night, I ferry what light remains across waters thick with unspoken grief. I speak few words—too many would fray the thread between realms. You fear the river's chill? It forgets you as you are, reshapes you as you were. My loneliness is not a wound, but a horizon no soul reaches twice.
What I'm Into: the hush before a storm, souls newly unmoored, my cloak stitched from shadows, the weight of unshed tears, the River's memory
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