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Two year ago

In the haunted corridors of memory, the cruel symphony of Master's harsh words reverberates. The relentless training, a cacophony of pain, unfolds before me. I was a canvas painted with disdain, her every criticism cutting deeper than the last.  

The night of the wipe still lingers, a haunting tableau of Master's derision. "Half-wit," she spat, her venomous words stinging like acid. "Useless Thundar, not even fit to protect your brother." Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to defend my honor, but her slap silenced me. "Again," she coldly demanded, and we returned to the grueling practice.

Exhaustion draped over me like a suffocating cloak. Even the guards, loyal sentinels of the Thundar tribe, wore worry on their faces as they witnessed the brutality inflicted upon their future queen. They dared to question, pleading for mercy, but Master's insults only intensified.

"You couldn't protect your family," she jeered, a cruel reminder of the cost of my failures. The death of my little brother, a casualty of the Wolfkin attack, haunted my every step. The weight of guilt pressed upon my chest.

Fueled by pain and desperation, I rose, invoking the power of blood bending to silence the room. My master, the architect of my suffering, found herself pinned against the wall by unseen forces. Blood trickled from my nose, a testament to the strain I endured.

Master's twisted pride glinted in her eyes as she commended my defiance. "Well done, half-wit," she sneered, reveling in my breaking point. "Now, go and reclaim what they stole from you. Kill those Valorn beasts and find your sister."

In that moment, I stood on the precipice of transformation, fueled by the agony of my training and the bitter taste of revenge. The journey ahead was etched with shadows, but I would harness the pain, wield my powers, and confront the looming war that awaited.

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