The Dark Mark is without competition the biggest mistake I ever made. I took it in search for knowledge, but there is no knowledge to be found in becoming the slave of a man who cannot fight his own battles, only misery. Misery and bad memories.

After the first meeting I ever went to, I remember spending hours in the bathroom, trying to scrub myself clean again. I could not succeed. I still cannot. I felt filthy, tainted, unclean. When I finally got out, I spent fourteen years repenting for my sins, and I have years to go before I'm clean again.

I remember clawing at my skin, tearing my own flesh to erase the Mark, and never succeeding. The physical Mark might only be skin deep, but the pain and terror it caused runs to the bone. I will spend my life repenting for what I have done, and I fear it might not be enough.

When the man I once called Master was finally gone, I believed I would be free again. Free of my sins and the scorn I had to suffer in the eyes of others. I was wrong. I have given up my whole life for them, yet in their eyes, I will never be more than a sinner. No matter what I do, I will never be redeemed, I will never be whole.

I have paid for what I have done, I am not unclean anymore. I have sacrificed my life so that others can live in freedom, given up my honour, my pride and my privacy so that other shall not suffer under the wrath of a madman, yet I have not received a single thank you. Even as I risked my own life for them, I will not be thanked for what I did.

I am clean once again, no longer tainted by the touch of the man I gave my life to serve. But no one cares about what I have done. They never have and they never will.

I am not unclean anymore, just one of the untouchables.