Darkness.
Darkness and pain.
That's all that I knew.
It seemed like it was all I had ever known, but that was untrue. I remembered things in that darkness, things that had not been known to me before. I remembered that the goddess I worshipped was, in fact my grandmother, and that I had spent many a day in her pleasant company. I half-remembered my grandfather, a man of true courage, who sacrificed himself to save my grandmother, and disappeared for ten years. I remembered his general appearance. He reminded me of someone, someone I knew, but this I could not figure out.
The pain was both physical and mental. They had clipped my wings, cut them off with a blade, and I could no longer fly. It hurt, yes, but what hurt worse was that I had failed my goddess. I could not bear the pain, and it seemed to crush me. I had thought about giving up, but I knew that that was a greater betrayal than anything else to my grandmother. Until they came.
I was sitting in my cell, thinking, when I heard voices. Voices I knew. They cried out my name, in joy at first, and then in shock and horror when they released me from my cell, and saw where my wings had once been. I was weak, though, from my time in that cell, and could not do much other than walk. They ran ahead and disabled the guards, while my aunt helped me walk.
She led me to the vessel they had come to the prison on, and laid me down. I thanked her fervently, and she shushed me. I was asleep within minutes, but in my dreams I was free. And I knew who I was then. Not a prince, but a man. And I still am. Even though that prison haunts me, it also holds a special place in my heart; for it was there that I discovered who I was then and who I am now.
I am Andor.