"A witch's labyrinth surrounds them, walling them inside a prison of shadows. No one knows why they do this. They hurt, and hurt, and hurt, until they die off, or are killed. Either way, they fight Death; they fight it for so long. They are almost immortal. Almost. Every day, every month, every second of the year, a new kind of pain washes over them, crippling them beyond recognition. Not that they'd want anyone to recognize them.
They exist, pure, unadulterated pain. They often question their purpose. Do they exist only to hurt, and in return, be hurt? They remember who they were, yes, but they don't want to. It only hurts them more as they decimate neighborhoods, cities, even empires. A witch lives in darkness, and everyone knows that.
Does anyone know why the choose that darkness? No? I thought so. One day, you'll understand. You'll all understand eventually. Class...
Dismissed."