Let me tell you a story about my life. It is a simple story; I did not go on many adventures, fight dragons, or heroically save my village from a devastating fire. I lived a simple life, or at least I tried to.

When I was young, I lived in the forests of Kisah with a poor family. My mother was as kind as they come, always thinking optimistically. My father on the other hand, well, he was nice too, but he looked at the world more realistically. I do not remember the names of my parents, but I can see their faces perfectly in my mind.

I left when I was very young, for my parents could hardly support themselves alone, and I knew I was not making things better. I set off early leaving only a note behind. Not looking back, I took my first step; my first step that would lead me out of the city and on my own.

Alone and hungry, I quickly adopted the mind and skill of a thief. I stole to live, and lived to steal. I went from city to city with only one thing in mind: to survive.

It has been about twenty years now since I have returned to Kisah. The maze that was once my home had become so unfamiliar to me. I can only assume that my parents are still alive, but there is always that uneasy feeling inside of me. A feeling that I will never see them again.