The young demon didn't meet the eyes of the angry adult before him.
"You can't just take things, Rando. If you take something you have to earn it."
"But the old thing wasn't even using it!" protested the youth. "I wanted it more than he did."
"You'll return it tomorrow with an apology," Rando's mother stated, her voice leaving no room for further protests. "We are demons, not thieves. Have some sense of honor."
The mutinous youngster moved off, his shoulders slumped, clearly unhappy with this decision.
"One day you'll understand," the female murmured more to herself than to her sulking son.
"Will you teach me?" the demon asked, slightly older now, his voice filled with hope.
He had heard stories of the psychic from far away and hoped to learn something from him. He was told that he had a gift for learning human techniques, but was sometimes unwise in his application of them. "Find a master," he had been told, "They'll teach you something and make sure you can use it wisely."
Maybe it'll be different this time, the young demon thought. Maybe he'll accept me. Looking into the eyes of yet another master Rando felt his hope slipping away.
"We don't teach your kind here." The words were hard and unyielding, the old master's face unflinching. Looking into the cold eyes of the most recent human psychic he had visited in his quest to find a master, Rando felt something snap.
These were the creatures whose techniques he had an affinity for? They were unworthy of their own power. He was stronger than they were at any rate. He would simply take what they would not give him.
This direction of thought tugged at an almost forgotten memory.
You can't just take things, Rando. If you take something you have to earn it.
We are demons, not thieves. Have some sense of honor.
Earn it. Honor.
It had been years since his mother had lectured him for stealing something from the old demon living near their part of the forest. He couldn't even remember what he had taken. The words rang through his mind nonetheless.
Very well then, Mother. I'll earn it, even if these filthy humans hardly deserve the effort.
Hidden, Rando observed the old psychic's students and what he required of them before advancing their studies. Making sure that he could meet the requirements, he watched and learned. When he could learn no more from the psychic and his students he confronted them, and killed them. Looking at the carnage around him, he knew it was time to move on and find the others who had denied him learning. These humans were not worthy of their gifts, they should not be allowed such power. He would enjoy breaking their race.
Rando looked around in the form of his latest disguise--a small, weak-looking monk.
A tournament, old woman? Very well then, I'll earn it.