I am not a hero. I am nothing but the tragic remains of a human, the scraps of what might one day have been a living, breathing creature.
I sold my soul for the whispers. I sold my soul for the silent prayers of sin. Knowledge fills me, the power aches in my fingertips, magic flows in my veins as naturally as blood. I may know every book, every tome by heart, but I am no wiser than a child. I am not a hero.
Pregnant with lies, a tongue of poison lying in my mouth, I infect the world. Each step I take corrupts, each word is deadly. I sewed my mouth shut with the memories, the thought of the smiles I once bore, and the tears that once fell. Let one last breath force its way out, let my blood seep out and color the floor. Let me exist no more.
Free me, for I am power. I deserve no more.