He was once a feared creature that went by many names; Rakshasa, Transmogrifier, Therianthrope, man’s own shadow, the dark figure, that which steals your shape…Doppelgänger. He was one of the strongest demons that outsmarted Noblemen, Priest’s and Kings. Stole their first borns, threw castles into ruin, turned best friends into mortal enemies. He got off on pulling tricks, luring fair maidens and admiring how the bravest of knights crumbled and fell at his feet.

He was then chosen and given an important task, to protect and defend the Great Tower, for thousands of years he waited in silence and darkness until it stirred and came face to a man who he would call his first Master. At the time he loathed how he could be defeated to something so small and weak but time grew along and could never be happier.

Time moved on, things had to change, he became lost and was found by his second Master, his first Master’s brother no less. It wasn’t what he wanted. Though this master was wise, cunning and strong, he became reduced to nothing. Keeping appearance of someone decades ago, he refused to change shape and ended up being the runt of the pack. His years of experience and strength cast aside to be nothing more than an errand boy.

The final nail of the coffin was the Little Prince. Reduced to a babysitter, an escort. He hated it and hated the spoilt maggot he had to follow day in and day out. He wanted anything to get away, he was bitter towards the Little Prince. Always walked too fast, talked in languages his little ears couldn’t understand, bully him, tease him, pick on him; and yet the Little Prince was always coming back, like a puppy.

It sickened him.