For the next four years I was trapped in my own body, waiting for an opportunity to escape and exact my revenge. Four agonizing years of watching and helping Alistar. Not once did my hatred waver over these years, but instead grew as I was forced to obey his orders.

The first two years consisted of physical and intellectual training. I supposed Alistar would consider it sharpening his tool for better use.

I was hand trained by what appeared to be one of the emperor’s personal guards. He was an older gentleman with graying hair. One would expect his body to match his age, but instead he had a large frame bulging with muscles. At first he was very standoffish and disapproving of my stature and build. The first two months with him was spent only exercising and running my body into the dirt

Honestly the training itself could have been consider hell. Any normal person would have long given up or been unable to continue working with that man, but my body was a mindless puppet. It didn’t feel pain as it continually picked itself up from total exhaustion and continued fully obedient to the man’s yells. Perhaps the man was in on the fact that I was a puppet. Either that or he was a sadist. At the end of the sessions, Sylvia would have to reconnect torn muscles and ligaments so my body could walk properly.

Despite the cruelty of the training its effects were evident. Along with a proper diet my malnourished body flourished. No longer was I a scrawny miscreant out on the streets, but a proper slave able to carry its master’s burdens.

Even after all of the training though I didn't become a hulking mass, like many other warriors. I did gain a significant amount of weight, but it was mostly powerful lean muscles.

My instructor seemed to approve of my condition and began to instruct me on hand to hand combat. At this point I began to be able to read lips somewhat well. It was a bit hard to do, but I eventually could get the gist of what people were saying. It only worked when I was looking at their faces and even then I could only get bits of the conversation. I believe he said something about how hand to hand combat was the foundation for all forms of combat. It started out as forms and slowly worked its way up to full on sparring matches that I would consistently lose.

Due to being a puppet, it was mechanical with its attacks and defenses. Everything was by the books. It could never even land a hit on him because the instructor knew all of the moves he had taught me.

Despite not being in control of my body, I still found it infuriating to lose constantly. One day while we were in the middle of sparring, I just grew so sick of watching my body fail. My rage flared and I lashed out against the window separating me and the real world. I could do better than that imbecile!

To my surprise the window shattered into particles of light and everything went black. When I opened my eyes back up I was exhilarated. I could feel again! I welcomed the feeling of pain wracking my muscles, the smell of a working body, and the taste of blood in my mouth. Even the sounds of my instructor yelling at me were like a song of joy because I was free.

My excitement was short lived the instructor’s fist came hurtling at my midsection. I instinctively dodged out of the way, but the fist still landed on my side knocking me off balance to the ground.

“Get back up, I’m not done with you yet worm!” the instructor yelled at me as he waited for me to get to my feet.

My rage swelled up upon hearing the nickname he had been calling for months. I clenched my fists up against the loose sandy ground of the training area and pushed myself up onto my feet. I quickly turned and threw the dirt I had gathered in my hand towards his shocked face. After watching weeks of very generic moves he never expected anything like this and was caught wide-eyed.

He gave a small yelp of surprise before his hands instinctively shot up to rub is eyes. Blinded and his guard down I shot forward and delivered a punch into his solar plexus which was at the perfect height for me to hit. He folded over, with the wind knocked out of him. He brought his head down low enough allowing my next blow able to reach his face and hit him in the nose. I felt a crunch and my instructor slumped to the floor with blood flowing from his nostrils.

“Worm” I said spitting at his body. It felt good to strike back at my tormentor. I turned to go and get even with my torturer, but the moment I went to run towards the manor to find Alistar, the brand on my forehead flared to life. Pain flood my body as I fell to my knees and passed out.

Upon opening my eyes once again, I found myself back in the darkness where the window had reformed allowing me to see my body stand up and brush itself off like nothing had happened.

Frustrated about my being locked away again, I lashed out against the window, hoping to once again shatter it and free myself once again.

I couldn’t no matter how hard I attacked it.

It was a while before I managed to break out again and after that I was able to slowly figure out how I could escape.

First, off my body has to be extremely stressed or distracted. Whenever it is doing something complicated, the spell must have to focus more of its self on controlling it rather than keeping me trapped.

Second, I had to be pissed off. Luckily I had plenty to be angry about whether it was thinking of Alistar, getting beaten up by my now crooked noses instructor or at myself.

Third, I had to somehow merge myself with that rage in order to lash out at the spell. This was especially tricky to do but I could occasionally do it naturally. I tried to force my wrath into helping me but it slipped away each time. When I got it right fist in the darkness would glow the same color as the dark flame of my rage.

Fourth, I had to do what my body was instructed to do. As long as I continued doing what was order, the spell wouldn't lash out against me. Whenever I would stop doing the task or try to get away the spell would ensnare me once again.

All the while I was experimenting with this I continued to train with the instructor and we finally moved onto training with weapons, due to his defeat. I was finally able to start training with weapons.

To my dismay, Alistair decided to have me learn how to fight with a sword and shield. Whenever I broke out and used them in fighting, they just felt uncomfortable and clumsy in my hands. There was nothing I could do about it. I decided to throw myself into this training and learn all I could so on the day I broke out I could use those skills for my revenge.

I progressed quickly. After a year I was no longer being pushed around by the old man. Instead I would be able to break out of my chains to fight in my body and keep him in check. I never was able to defeat him like I did in hand to hand combat but I was at least his match. Despite that I was furious with myself.

I needed to do better. It wasn't enough to be this old man's equal instead I need to be able to dispatch people like him easily if I was ever going be able to fight against Alistar and his various forces.

In the end really I knew that while physical training was going to be helpful for my survival my key to defeating Alistar and freeing myself from his spell laid in magic. Every day, after my eight hours of training in the morning, I would be healed by Silviya then sent inside where Alistar or another Tutor would teach me academics and the arcane arts.