The red potion was bitter and burned my throat. It was nothing like the lyrium I know. There was a hum in my mind, a held note that seemed to course through my entire being. The power it brought was incredible. I felt as if I held all the world in my palm, and I could crush it with a thought. Is this what the Maker feels? I can think of nothing else but that power now. A taste of the limitless makes it impossible for a man to be content with the ordinary. Why be what I am when I can be more?