Darkness.
That was all I have ever seen since I was discovered to be a "manaless cur" by my own father.
Imprisoned deep under the Walhein Family manor, I had nothing to do but wait for food that was being given to me once every three days. Twice, if the guards outside weren't feeling particularly peckish themselves, but I learned not to expect that much about three months ago.
I wished to die.
I wished to die so that I could no longer feel the horrible ache in my stomach. The way that my skin felt like it was slowly shrinking down to my bones.
I wished to die so that I could no longer hear the deafening silence and fight through the cold that haunted me each and every night.
I wished to die so that I could finally be free of the rats that come once in a while to bite off pieces of my
