I was born to a family in Coene. Commoners. For most of my childhood, I lived a happy life with my parents and my grandfather. But... one day, when I went to play with some of my friends in the orphanage, a fire broke out. A lot of people died... but I tried to help who I could. Though... I did get burned pretty badly from it.

[ and with his free hand, unconsciously, it drifts vaguely toward his face before settles on fussing with his own hair instead ]

... it's not - a normal burn. People couldn't look at me. My own parents... thought I was possessed by something. A demon. So they— [ a beat, an abbreviation, an act of brutality he won't say out loud but can be inferred ]

At least, the orphanage took me in before I succumbed to my injuries. But even then... no one talked to me. They only pitied me. It was only when a kind merchant gave me a beautiful mask, even though I couldn't even pay him at all... that people started to react to me better.

[ . . . ]

But I want to be loved. The type of love my parents had. It just... never works out. Even if I'm kind - everyone who's shown an interest in me takes off running if I remove my mask.

So I wanted a body that didn't have this scar. That doesn't look cursed. That... could be loved.

[ it's why he asks after reincarnation or if god can fix him. he'd do anything at all just to have someone, anyone, love him as broken as he is ]