He was darkness. He ebbed and flowed like a shadow on the wall, flickering in some unknown candlelight. He had no shape, no form. He was spread between the cracks of the dungeon like the spider web that prevented it from collapsing. He was the remaining evidence of the fissures that had tried to break it.
When he tried to think of who he was, he couldn't remember. The darkness tightened around him, swallowing him, suffocating him, protecting him. It had a form, a voice. It growled when...