"I don't remember a time before my corruption. I know it existed - I know that at one point, I was our god's favorite dog - but my knowledge of it, my memory of it, was taken from me. I've only ever known the chaos and the rage, and I have to wonder... without the anchor of my past self, without the assurance that at one time I was perfect, that I was good... at what point will these things devour me?"
He looked back at me, expression becoming shuttered, grave, an oppressive weight sinking the proud line of his shoulders. The unholy flame held in his hands guttered out.
"I suppose you think me ungrateful, complaining about the god that saved me, the god who gave me these shackles that I might leash that inner beast, but I often wonder if the greater mercy might not have been in killing us both." His gaze slid away, troubled. "He destroyed a star to save me, and I don't think it was worth it."
Derping around with Dirge and his story. His shackles keep the demon that infected him from corrupting him entirely, but sometimes the mental load is overwhelming fkfkf.
