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'Over the centuries people just knew to avoid the black radiance, and built around it. It became something of a vague fascination to the city, largely ignored. It was now becoming just another bit of scenery in Auralia.. Now to you; your father threw you into the black flames in his grief, following your Mothers’ death. He hoped it would kill you, so that he wouldn’t have to support you all by himself. He had hoped to just dispose of you and live comfortably; but even he could not stop regret. He killed himself after he comprehended what he had done. You already know this part, yes?'
'Yes,' Thought Madura impatiently. He could never recall what it was like in the blackness, as he was only three at the time. His rage fuelled as he realised he had refused Harbinger’s offer, and yet her impertinent voice continued rambling about the flames he had almost died in! He didn’t mind about his parents anymore, he had had a long while (fifty five years) to mull over the unsavoury way his father had tried to part ways with him. His father was despicable, and he didn’t even know what his Mother was like. The voice of Harbinger continued:
