As a child, I was closer to my mother than I would ever be to my father, for an agreement had been struck between the two of them whilst I was still within her womb - that any male children would be raised by Father and that any female children would be raised by Mother. Father was a successful artisan who made beautiful things to adorn others' dens. In return, others brought him meat, furs for his bed, rare herbs... But more than any of that it brought him power. He was given favors from those in elevated rank. He quickly became trusted by them too - for they told him all of their secret desires and he in return brought to them anything that they wished. And so we quickly gained rank and elevation in society and continually moved to newer and bigger dens, each one a little higher to the plateau.

I should explain myself. The country we lived in held land in variants of elevation. Those who lived in the lowlands either were loners or were not strong enough to earn a place near the royalty and the richer vargs. In the wet season, their dens were often flooded, and should they make the error in judgment to actually have pups and bear life into the world, they nearly always died. If not from drowning, it would be from starvation or murder. In the lowlands, your very life was the thing that everyone was trying to take from you, for though there was water, it was murky and muddy and often bore disease. The river pooled there and often grew stagnant from urination, defecation, and rotting corpses. The dens were too close together to allot for a space to make a privy, and so it festered and seeped into the ground, and into the river. Each wet season, the river's plagued waters would bring that very refuge back into the dens. No logical Lera made their own livelihood there, so food was scarce as well. More often than not, the bottom-feeders meals consisted of other Lera, and so though there were always more wolves trying to eek out a life down there, their numbers were controlled by drought, flood, famine, and disease. They were the very cur of the land, and yet they did serve a purpose occasionally - to provide entertainment for the ascended. Officials would go into the lowlands and offer comfort to families if one of their own would fight in the duels. And if the officials did not meet the quotas? Well then the officials would beat them into agreeing, and drag them up the slope.

I had never been a lowlifer, but my birth had found me in the Lower Constant. The reek from the Lowlands often drifted up to us, but we were not touched by the same disease, we were not touched by flood. Food was still scarce there, and we nearly always were thirsty... But it was possible to survive. Selfishly, I thought my own existence was better than theirs, that somehow my life was worth more than the lowlifers'. And that feeling only increased as Father's skills in artifacting, his growing network of contacts, allowed up to ascend the slope. As a pup I saw our den move slowly higher in the Lower Constant, and then finally cross the gate into the Mid and then Higher Constant. By then, we were comfortable. We still had to work hard, but we were comfortable. Clean water was available, and food could be found if one searched long enough. My ribs disappeared for the first time since I was born, and if Father's greed had not pushed him to reach higher up, if he had been content, perhaps things would be different. But I soon realized that Father was a greedy, selfish brute who would never stop wanting more. I had loved him as a pup, for he had flowered me with compliments, gifts, and love. He had been soft with me and called me his most cherished belonging.

But then the age of Growth came over me, and I was a pup no more. It was at that same time that Father had been offered access through the Upper gate... We were to move again. Mother begged him not to, told him that we were already living a life of sin but if we ascended, that we would be cursed surely. But he shook her off and how they yelled, how they screamed until Father decided without her to move our den through the Upper Gate. That was the beginning of the end for Father and Mother. From then on, their love began to dwindle and their relationship began to pull apart. From then on, I was no longer a pup, but a teen, and Mother made sure that Father understood that she was going to take his promise seriously. That I was no longer his Cherub, and that my upbringing was firmly within her paws, within her teeth. And thus I began my training as a Servant of the Light, atoning not only for my sins, but for my Father's as well. Taking upon myself all sin of those that came to me looking for help, and giving everything I had and more, for what right did I have to keep my pretties, to keep my possessions which had stolen my focus and loyalty from the gods and turned them selfishly onto myself. Everything was about to change.

But enough of that, for if I was to tell my whole history in one setting, in one sitting, you would wither from hunger, shrivel from dehydration, and become one of the Lowlifers yourself... One of the very wolves that I came to serve.

My paws are weary from travel, but I do not complain. My heart is racing, but I do not slow. My stomach rumbles, but I do not stop to eat. I have only slowed a few times, long enough to relieve myself if only so that urine and excrement would not drip onto my legs, soiling my form. Fear rides in my heart, not of any brute or lady, not of any army or land. I am running even though I know it is futile. I have failed a mission to my Master, the one true Lord, he who does not accept failure, and my fate is sealed. My only hope to redeem myself and save myself from one million lifetimes of torture in purgatory is to find the Last Confessor. We had thought them all dead - all of the Amnells. We had arranged for the Ice King to have their pack decimated, so that their knowledge and power would be destroyed forever... But now I know that one has survived. And though she herself has not acted as Confessors, the Nameless One would accept her sacrifice and forgive my failure. If only I can kill Kahlan, my fate will be amended.

I inhale sharply and stop finally, trying to catch my breath. My face still and stoic and I stand tall on the outlook of the ridge that I have just ascended, the back part of Misty Mountain that few ever climb or descend because of its treachery. One of the few ways that leads from the rest of the world into Blossom Forest, the fallen land of Saw Tooth beneath me, still smoldering. I have been gone since it was destroyed, returning to my training as a Sister of the Light... Only to be converted into a Sister of the Dark. I am returned here, to this place I once sought to call home. But after this place failed me, I went home. And now here? This place? I can see it clearly now, I can see it anew.

It will be my redemption.