The next thing I knew I was in a warm bed. Slowly opening my eyes, I looked around. Everything looked and felt fuzzy. I recognised the feeling, "Fairy Powder?" - [Fairy Powder or Vixen is a medicinal drug produced by Elves, hence the offensive common name. For those unaware 'Fairy' is an insulting word to describe one of Elven descent.] - I slurred out of my numb mouth.

"Vixen," said a feminine voice, correcting me. "Don't say Fairy Powder, it's offensive" continued the woman, her voice piercing my throbbing head. "Offensive? Who gives a damn whether it's offensive or not, I ain't calling it no Mage Name" I snapped "Mage Name?" she puffed, "What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, her voice digging deeper into my head, "Go ask someone who gives a damn." I mumbled I wasn't sure if she heard me, but it seemed she did. But it wasn't her I was hoping not to see, If Rina enters- "Isaac, Get up." commanded a familiar voice, Rina. My head was still pounding, my worst fate realised, and I began to push myself up. My body protested, more than it usually did, I collapsed back on the bed, and the feeling of cuts opening up on my sides gave me great concern. Someone performed surgery on me. "Miss, he needs rest, his ribs are broken and his spine-" Rina cut her off "I need him. Now. Get up." As she commanded, I obeyed. Or at least, I tried to. I pushed myself up, only to fall on my back again, stifling the groans I tried again, but the cut at my side opened "Shit!" I exclaimed painfully in Old Norse - [A language used in some areas of the Snowlands as a way of remembrance for their ancient homeland of the Norselands] -. Here I cursed in Norse because it hurt so damn much I didn't think Imperial Common was a good enough language to get it across. "Stop that, you're opening up your stitches. You're hurting yourself!" the woman continued, Rina stood over me "You useless, Worthless fool." she said coldly, I could only stare at her in disbelief 'worthless fool'? Who does she think I am? Who would she be without me? I do everything for her, does she think herself better than me? Her gaze was cold and her face as still as stone. "Go fuck yourself, bitch" she interrupted me "You're nothing but a disappointment, in fathers eyes, in mothers eyes and mine?" she spat, "you think I keep you around because I value you?" she snorted, which developed into full laughter, after calming down she continued "I only keep you around to do what's beneath me" she laughed and continued to speak, but I had stopped listening. I was lying there, gritting my teeth, a burning hatred filled my heart. As I scanned my memories for when she cared, I realised, she doesn't care. She never has. Damned bitch, I hope she goes out there and drops dead. I lay there a while, staring up at the ceiling, seething.

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