Magnus Bane was once a child with a normal life. He never dreamed of going to Peru, Paris, London, New York, and pretty much everywhere else in the world. He definitely never dreamed of living until the 21st century, or even the 18th. For the first few years of his life, he lived with his mother and father on a farm in Batavia of the Dutch East Indies, modern day Indonesia. His father was a little tough with the young child, but his mother was also so sweet and loving. When he was a few centuries older and still remembered those few years with her, he wondered how her love wasn't enough to see him as the same boy he'd been. Centuries after that he didn't remember her.

Magnus's mother looked back on the night Magnus was conceived with nothing but anger, disgust, and shame for the last few months of her life. That night she was at her house, alone as usual. She suspected that her husband was working late, as usual. That was what he always said he was doing at least. She was just about to start doing the day prior's laundry when he walked in. She was surprised, but pleasantly.

"What brings you home so early?" she asked.

"The thought of seeing you," he replied flirtatiously. The following events are pretty self explanatory given the end result, which was Magnus.

So after a… fun night, her husband remembered that he'd forgotten to properly tie up his horse as he was in so much of a rush to get home. He left in a hurry and returned later than he should have. He dropped his belongings on the floor near the door and made his way to the bedroom without saying a word. He was startled by finding his wife there, so startled that he wasn't the one who spoke first.

"How's the horse?" she wondered sweetly.

"Where are you asking about the horse?" He said gruffly.

"Well I was just thinking…"

"Yeah, whatever. Shouldn't you be cleaning now?"

She was very surprised by his sudden mood change, but got up anyway and scurried out of the room. She told herself it didn't matter and to just forget about it so she did. Her husband sometimes was like; perfectly fine one moment, angry the next. It was just a part of life, so she accepted it. The next week, she decided to try to get him in the mood again. They hadn't done anything together in quite some time besides that night. She cleaned up the house early and made sure to have a hot dinner at the table for when he got home. It didn't take long for them to get to the bedroom after that. When she found out she was pregnant she wasn't surprised.

There was nothing abnormal about her pregnancy or birth. Her son came out appearing to be completely normal, as expected. He was raised to be a good Catholic boy by his mother and father. She taught him how to cook her father's Dutch food and her mother's Indonesian food. He spent his days on their farm. He lived a normal life, because why wouldn't he? He was just a normal boy…

Until one day, when the boy was five years old. He woke up and trudged downstairs for breakfast. He greeted his mother with a smile and said "Good morning."

"Morning, my-" she dropped the eggs in her hands and shrieked. Her son begun to panic.

"What is it? What's happening?" he cried moving towards his mother. She backed away from him until she backed into the wall.

"No, no, no, no, no. It- it can't be." She glanced towards the kitchen counter and spotted a utensil. She chucked it at his head and ran out of the house. She ran and ran and didn't stop running until she made it to the field, where she saw her husband staring off into the rising sun. He turned around when he heard her panting.

"Hi sweetheart," he said.

"How did you get out here? You were just… in the… house." As she realized the unlikeliness of it all, she raised her hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

"Sorry dear, I must leave now. I do believe I left the horse untied." He transformed into smoke and evaporated. She began to run again, this time to the barn. She found a length of rope and a ladder. She climbed to the rafters and tied the rope to the beam. Then she tied the other end around her neck and jumped.

She had slept with a demon and her son was a monster. She couldn't live with that.

And neither could her husband, so he kicked out his wife's five year old son. Her five year old son whose eyes had slits like a cat. Her son, the spawn of Asmodeus, a King of Hell. In her dying moments she decided that he was no son of hers, that the monster had only used her as a vessel to get birthed by, that he was nothing to her. So maybe it wasn't just that she'd slept with a demon and given birth to a monster that drove her to death; maybe she was also grieving for her lost son. But he'd never know.

Her boy found a new way to live far away from Indonesia. He learned of his powers, of the Shadow World. He became a new person, or Warlock, rather. He even got a new name. He was told all warlocks choose their own name once they become warlocks. He chose Magnus Bane, and he forgot his past, about his mother and stepfather and Asmodeus. He spent the centuries drinking, gambling, and having many relationships with many different people. At first the alcohol was all that would keep his previous life off his mind, but much later in life his previous life only came to him in dreams. Long after that, he never thought of it.

That day when he was five in the 17th century became the first of many days when he'd lose someone. It never got easier to have someone he loved die, but each one did get easier to think about after some time. He was able to look back on past lovers and remember the happy things moments rather than the loss, because he lost everyone eventually.