You are trapped.
It was unexpected, but unavoidable. You and a few friends ventured off to a dungeon rumored to be in the sewers of a distant island. The party was comprised of lower-tier magi, but you all felt confident. Months had gone into preparing for your expedition, after all. Nothing could go wrong, really. You managed to obtain a map of its supposed location and armed yourself with a decent weapon, quality potions you'd invested a good chunk of coin into. It was exciting, your first big mission.

Unfortunately, disaster struck. Wandering the island, your group met with an inconspicuous woman. A conversation ensued, but seemingly a chat alone was not enough to entertain Ghislaine. The others were slaughtered, you were not.  You were brought to a prison, left to rot without sunlight, tormented by the distant cackling of your captor- the very same which played as your party-mates were felled.

You were going to die. A human sacrifice was most likely. At least it'd be quick. Instead, however, you were fed rotten food one evening, brought out and displayed as a subject upon the morning. The focus of a medical lesson for a bunch of witches. What a cruel fate. 

The most aggressive of which had been Elowliche. Despite the rough handling, she discerned your ailment- reassuring you while the others called you 'it,' suggesting things like cremation as a solution. The lesson ended. You were not treated, merely studied before what was sure to be a return to the cells. 

"..poor thing..you'll be..all better..in no time.."

Instead, she saved you.