Character—what a character?
Indeed, a splendid character.
A creature sculpted by narrative, chiseled by choice, bruised by fate.
But "character" was such a measly word to describe a person—
a word too thin, too flimsy, too hollow to hold everything a soul carried.
The meaning and depth of character varied wildly, stretched across centuries of storytelling.
The character varied all too well, all too much.
The villain, the hero, the king, the demi-god, the god.
So many characters, each with their own cracks, their own shards, their own shimmering flaws that caught the light in different angles.
But the most important one—the one every tale, knowingly or unknowingly, began orbiting around—
of course, was the main character.
The chosen by the plot.
The one chosen by the story.
The one who moved the epic, the storytelling forward.
The still point around which the entire chaos turned.
The one who was the center of everything, even when he didn't want to be.
