You will forget. Death or life will take him from your minds. I know, whispered Despair, in her distant, empty voice. But I shall remember him.

It is said that scattered through Despair's domain are a multitude of tiny windows, hanging in the void. Each window looks out onto a different scene, being, in our world, a mirror. Sometimes you will look into a mirror and feel the eyes of Despair upon you, feel her hook catch and snag on your heart. Despair says little, and is patient.

To be Despair. It is a portrait. Only close your eyes and feel.

He was a creature of hope. For dreams are hopes, and echoes of hopes. And I am a creature of despair.