I remember how he looked at me. How that arrogant sneer melted into fear when he realized what had happened. Mirtai wisely fled the room. He cast fire at me. My fists answered. Soon, he could only lift his arms in defense while I demolished his face. He knocked me away with a powerful spell that set rest of the bedroom ablaze in fiery chaos. I uttered my proclamation that he could never recover me.
He said then, "The most trying time for an artist is to see his work become more than intended. It is a bittersweet and painful pleasure. I think however, you may yet be in for some surprises which my shelter has guarded you against thus far."
One year has passed since that tumultuous farewell. Four months ago, he died. After, I forgave him for what he did to me, and I acknowledge that there have been struggles since. But without him, I would not be able to experience it.
Rest in Hell, Viere.
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