“No, please!” the Doppleganger winced and hissed in pain as his body slammed hard again the marble wall. His arm sharply bent high, straining to break. The deep snarling behind his ear wasn’t an act; “You go near him again and I will gut you, do you understand, you runt?” A further twist on the arm, a pained cry, a blade lodged against the shape-shifter’s throat. The Knight’s power stronger than his own and he saw stars when the Knight made sure the information would stay in his head, smashing it against the wall.

He tried to run, slipping into the shadows, but the Knight being made of the darkness himself, tormented and punished him severely, throwing him out of the vortex and across the hall. A hard punch to the skull made sure to let him know never to try that again. “You touch the Master again, you even look at him in the eyes and I will make sure you wish you were never saved!” He couldn’t speak as the boot crushed his jaw but the pained whine left the Knight smirking as he had enough and walked off, leaving the Doppleganger to pick himself up and lick his wounds.

It used to be a routine, daily, weekly, whenever. He grew afraid and scared to be summoned by his Master for the Knight would always be there, burning hot anger into his eyes. He became terrified and lost all confidence in himself and of his proud past.

Maybe, the Doppleganger thought, as when the Little Prince came into his life, that it wasn’t so bad, to just have someone who wouldn’t hurt him.