The stain of red among black is not a ritualistic symbol. It's an understanding.

My name is not important, for the wielder of the stories is simply known for the stories, nothing more. My life is also irrelevant, for the sharing of it would do no one any good. My hobbies include many, but all insignificant.

Pain: the signal of life.

Hope: what people live for.

Love: It's beyond reason.

Eyes: Observers of the world.

Hate: The excuse.

Life: The process of time.

Death: The gift of life.

Crimson Ebony: An understanding.