It has been 3,000 years since my birth in Britain. I was tasked by the Planet with admonishing the faeries for their great sin, but I wavered in the hopes of saving them.

Until now, I've managed to suppress and won all the calamities that came before me. However, I've always been treated as a nuisance. What I said before wasn't the whole truth. Truth is every time I saved the faeries from calamities I had to run for my life. I have been crucified, drowned, beheaded, burned, stoned.

All I could was run for my life each time. From hideout to hideout, after countless nights of deep hibernation before I could reemerge without suspicion did I realize that my enemies are no longer just the Calamity, but also the fairies of Britain as well.

In the end, it is just as you said, Mash. Our journey was pointless. Please don't show me that sad face, I'm used to it now. I've never been Aesc the Savior, I'm just Morgan the Witch.