A bleak land and monochrome life, lonesome days in a quiet sorrow, until there was light, there was warmth, there was purpose, but how much can that cost? How heavy can one’s sacrifice be? Change is immutable, but how much should one change in the name of hope? How far can he, who embraces change, push himself before he breaks? This story isn’t a fairy tale, but a small fable following the tragic naivety of a monster, a cruel remark of one’s limitations.

Dear reader, I invite you to feel this alongside me as I’ve written this with my heart more than my head, my very first attempt at writing and perhaps the start of something more.

I would also like to mention that English isn’t my first language. I’m terribly sorry for any mistakes or weird usage of the language. Thank you once again for your time.