I’ve only ever felt safe in the dark. Deep in the shadows. Hidden from what can see me, and blinded from what I could see had I light to reveal it all.

I still remember the grains of sand bunching beneath my hands and feet. It was cold. I can still hear the final gasps of my mother coming from somewhere beside me. She sounded scared. She sounded in pain. They all did.

It’s strange.

I should’ve been dead. I should’ve been at the bottom of the canyon they threw us in. Sinking to the bottom of the lake that had been there moments before I hit the surface, and the darkness erupted.

I’m sure I wasn’t seeing things. There was definitely a body of water at the bottom of the canyon as I fell. I remember it.

Ah, there’s something else I remember. The Firecalorians who threw us in said we’d break our necks or drown. There was definitely a body of water. The scent of mud still lingered in the air as well. Cold and murky as the water should’ve been.

So why do I remember sand between my toes and in the palms of my childish hands? Fine and dry, but cold. Riddled with stones, large and small, but easy to rest on in the dark.

My father landed somewhere ahead of me. The image of him being skewered through the chest when he tried stopping them is still burned into my mind.

She came down a few minutes after we’d been thrown. All the women did. I try not to think of what they did to them up there, before they were thrown down the canyon after us.

I remember sitting up against a rock I felt out in the darkness. I remember sitting in the black for hours that unravelled into days. I remember being grateful for the fact that I couldn’t see them.

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I could hear them, though. Those who fell atop other bodies, or who landed feet first. Those who survived the initial fall, and had to wait to die. I remember their screams. Their cries. Their pleas for help. No one came for them. I suppose I was lucky.

I didn’t have to remember their faces, at least. I could just sit in the dark, waiting as their sounds slowly grew quieter. Gentler. And I could finally breathe when they fell silent for the final time.

I don’t remember being captured by the Firecalorians. I don’t know if I have any family or friends who escaped them. If I do, I hope I never meet them.

I remember the first glimmer of light in the canyon, as I sat there in the silent blackness. Comforted by the dark. Sensing things watching me but never knowing if they were real.

How the light brought an end to my comfort. It poured in from around a jagged outcrop of the canyon wall, little blades of light that stabbed my eyes. They made me turn away. Scared of the mere sight of everyone who cared for me laying dead around my feet.

I remember my arms wrapping around my body, my legs shivering as they tucked against my chest, sand scraping against my skin. I remember seeing their bodies surrounding me. I remember screaming.

The man who carried the Animus lamp found me first. He helped me stand, and he covered my eyes as he led me out of the canyon. I don’t know how long we walked for. All I remember is my legs burning, the feel of his rough, warm palm pressed over my eyes, and sand scraping my feet until they were numb.

He brought me here, to the Dae’s Tower. Inside the Shadefall. Where everything is dark. He’s taught me much since that day. He’s shown me what I am capable of. He’s helped me understand the dark.

And above all, he’s helped me understand things I always knew to be true but could never say.

Man cannot live without darkness. They go insane without lies. And they will destroy anyone who tries to free them.

And yet, there are still those who try to free them. There are those who wish to see the light. And atop them all stands one man who has stopped my Shadefall. I cannot let that happen again. I will not allow him to stop me from saving this place.

My name is Mach.

And my mission is to kill the Nightfinder.