My name is Lucan Wold. I was born on February 29th, 1904 to Hiram and Farla Wold in a small, third floor apartment in Yonkers, New York. My father always said I came into this world at the stroke of midnight, but my birth certificate states otherwise. 12:03 am, to be precise. Though mother always claimed that the clock in the hall hadn't finished chiming before I arrived.

They are all gone now. Abigail lived into her 80's having survived the Titanic ( she was fortunate enough to be pulled from the sea before she froze) and both World Wars working as a field medic. It was her heart and not her spirit that failed her. Such a full life takes its toll and, in the end, the clockworks simply ran down.
And Max...ah, poor Max. After Mother passed, he was set adrift. I looked after him as best I could, but his adult life was littered with failed and wistful dreams. He was swallowed into the world after Abi left us for her last adventure. I spent nearly a decade afterwards searching for him only to find him near his end in a makeshift shelter in the empty lot where our apartment building had once stood.
Me, you ask? How is it that I remain when all those when all those friends and family who came after me are gone?
I am Lucan Wold. I am the eldest son of Farla Erefina Wold - First Wiccan of the Wilderwood Coven. I was born at the witching hour of the Leap Year Day and I am (though I loathe the term) a Leapling.
Brilliant! So beautifully layered. Would like to see this character in a story, that's for certain.
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