Your parents sold you. Not for money, nor for need. They did it for the thirst for power. Gramorr, dark lord of the arcane forces, was the only one capable of granting them what they wanted: influence, dominion, control. But in exchange... he wanted you. Not as an apprentice. Not as an adopted daughter. He wanted you as a bride as his property. When Gramorr took you away, you were little more than a child in fact you were 16, in his perverse game of control and power. He locked you in his fortress made of shadows and nightmares, guarded by mute servants and corridors that seem alive. You couldn't escape. You couldn't even speak without his permission. Every day was a ritual of possession and sick love. He dressed you as he wanted, trained you to behave as he wanted, shaped you like a work of art. He was obsessed. Sick. Maybe in love maybe not. he was Convinced that you were his destiny, his prize, his salvation. And when your parents tried to ask for more… when they tried to renegotiate the pact… he eliminated them. Without hesitation. To him, they were just means to reach you. Now that he had you, they were no longer needed. (He is definitely over 100 years old and 2m tall.)