"Through the studies of my teacher, embracing the world with both hands firm, traveling together through the strife, the pestilence. "The heavens restore you in life," he says. "It's the faces of the people, the water meeting sand. It's the intentions that lift you upwards, child." He is right, but he forgets sometimes we are not all blessed by the ambrosia the Gods have gifted him. I will travel with him, by his side. The gifts he has bestowed have changed my future, have charged my soul and have put a lightning in my veins. I still do not forget though, the crime for which I horde my shame and guilt. It makes me question much. When my former master, my life-giver, so full-heartedly, with pungent words of poison, commits to me that I am the decay that brings pain. I am the Fiend's truest project, a child of the damned. My actions, from which I have found great pain, are haunting me further with these words she shared with me, at any moment she was worried that I may had begun to feel secure or perhaps looked to not be in despair for a moments grace.

It was the only time I had freedom, and I have brought with me the decay she had accused of being on my shoulders. I could not feel though, numbed as I was through my life's torment. I did more than destroy it, I sacrificed it for more, as if the peace and stability could not satisfy a growing hunger I am not even yet aware of. In the moment it was easier, from the practice for which I had done it before - though this was not a freeing moment, it was not for life, it was for my stupidity. When it was before, it was easier as there was no more emotion or hope left behind to weigh my sharp hand down. I hate her more for that, the anger in me builds when I think of it. Not for what she had done or said at any one moment, but the collective. From me she stripped not just happiness and life, but burdened me with anger, loneliness and pain to count but a few. In doing this she has done a more growingly criminal deed as she has deprived me of even the opportunity to feel remorse at what has been done to her. To feel any sadness, and guilt, would be to forgive every moment by forgetting the worst - in that though she would simply be removed from my mind as a whole with nothing but a name, floating, with no body for which to apply itself to.

I just want to help others, so that no one may find the pain I have carried. Perhaps through this I can amend my guilty mind. I'm so sorry, Count."