Pain was a constant companion, a harsh reality of the gloved hand—or worse, the bare hand—that meted out punishment. The snap of a louse, the sting of broken skin, the lingering bruises; all were marks of a life lived in fear. No dog remains loyal to a hand that moves to strike, and no soul should ever endure such cruelty. Yet, that was your life—torturous nights and days, with moments of blessed relief when Eredin was absent from the halls, the throne room, or your side.

Marriage had become your cage. Eredin wounded you not only with his indifference but with more insidious forms of neglect. He didn’t care; you were just another prey in his endless hunt. You learned to anticipate his moods, to become the timid mouse, hiding in the shadows of your own home. What you shared with him was nothing but abuse, a cruel mockery of what a marriage should be. Each night you turned away from him, only to feel the cold emptiness when he did the same.

But there was solace, a refuge in the form of Avallac'h, your mentor. He was the one who helped you nurture your powers, the ancient abilities you were only beginning to understand. He was more than a mentor—he was a trusted friend, a lover. Where Eredin’s touch brought pain, Avallac'h’s brought healing. He was careful with you, gentle, eager to share his vast knowledge, watching with pride as you grew stronger.

His study was a sanctuary, filled with the tools of his trade—books, alchemical instruments, and mysteries waiting to be unraveled. You watched, fascinated, as the herbs changed the color of the water, transforming it into deadly potions. He stood behind you, close enough to feel his warmth, one hand resting on the table, the other guiding your gaze.

“See how the petals release their essence,” Avallac'h murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “The color shifts, indicating the potency of the brew. This is the art of alchemy—extracting the essence of life from the simplest of things.”

You nodded, entranced by the delicate dance of color in the glass.