Prologue

I am ashamed.

Ashamed of how many times I allowed myself to just… follow the instinct. The routine. Especially when the routine included dying.

But I did. I followed that instinct for an eternity, before I knew what eternity meant.

I’ve died dozens of times. Hundreds. I guess I’m thankful for those deaths now. Thankful, even of Red Thorn.

I wasn’t, back then.

I hated her. I would’ve done anything to get back at her. Beating her, the few times I could manage it, was all I had, and it never lasted. She would just return, ready to try all over again.

Red Thorn’s blade was the only certainty, in such a small little world. Until I finally found the courage to seek my own.