Aeonian

Prologue - Darkness

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Darkness.

Darkness has always been there.

Every second of my life, however bright the light may have shone.

Darkness surrounded me like a thin veil of Lord Death's cloak.

And it was Death who guided me.

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From an early age, children gifted with magic are told that the dark arts are evil. That there is only one right side and one bad side. But as soon as you want to find out what exactly makes this dark magic so evil, you are stared at with contempt. As if you were one of the dark wizards yourself. As if you were repulsive and cruel. Even at the age of twelve, you're stared at like scum.

Oh, how I hated those looks.

However, I hate nothing more than these cold, wet walls that surround me. 

I hate nothing more than the screams of the lunatics who are stuck here. Rotten like me.

I hate nothing more than the equally rotten food we are given. It's a sandy, mouldy taste in my parched mouth every single time. A nice change from the taste of my own blood, admittedly. Still, disgusting.

A flavour that makes me consider swallowing the cockroaches that keep running over my sore, dirty feet.

Bonehead Joe, the idiot next my room, says they taste like chicken. Pathetic comparison of a pathetic fool slowly, distortingly slowly, getting his mind sucked out.

However, the constant attacks by the black-cloaked creatures mean that you quickly lose all interest. The mouldy food? I don't care. The cold floor and the constantly dripping ceiling above me? I don't care either.

But what I do care about is the fact that I'm here.

The only place the devil himself wouldn't even dare to enter.

The only place that no one had ever left alive.

The only place that drives you mad, makes you suffer and nothing can make you die.

A place where you are forced to live even though you don't really want to.

But who cares?

After two... three years, you won't feel anything anyway.

No emotion. No joy. No bliss.

Gone.

After two years, you're as good as empty.