Hello people of fanfiction! This is my first Magi story/poem thingy so please don't flame me if it's not very good. Just a random idea I had and got inspired to write. Warning! This contains spoilers for those who have not seen episode 22 of Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic.

So this is based on my headcannon that I have that Judar actually is upset about what happened in his past and wonders if he would be the same person he is now if Al Tharmen hadn't had taken him as a baby.

Anyway I hope you all enjoy. :D

Magi and Judar belongs to Shinobu Ohtaka

Cover picture found on google images.

"I was selected by the rukh. I was born in a peaceful little eastern village...But soon after. Both of my parents were murdered by the organization. They took me away from them and used me as a Magi before I could even understand what was going on! Ever since I was an infant, see?! And yet, are you saying that its all my fault? I wished for an ordinary life! But am I still the only one to blame here?!...

Don't misunderstand, but I don't really give a damn about any of that stuff. I'm just going to go on doing as I please like I always have."

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

What I keep telling other people.

What I keep telling anyone who will listen to me.

But the truth is...

I do give a damn.

I do care that I was taken away.

I do care that my family was taken away from me.

I do care that I was taken away at such a young age that I have no memory of my life outside of the organization.

I do care that my life was stolen from me.

It's because of them I am like this.

Sometimes late at night, if I shut my eyes I can remember.

Barely remember, mind you.

But I can see my mother's sweet smiling face.

Feel my father's warm embrace.

But I was so young when I was taken from them the face is blurry.

And the embrace is weak and cold and ghost like.

It is true though that I thrive on the chaos that I create everywhere I go.

I live for the bloodshed of war.

My enemies pleas for mercy are like music to my ears.

I'm a trickster.

I'm a liar.

I'm a borderline a$$hole.

I admit this.

And, in a sick twisted way, sometimes I am proud of this.

But yet...

Deep down in the bottom of my cold, dead heart...

A small part of me cant help but wonder...

Would I still be like this had things turned out differently?

Would I still be like this had those damn once gold now black butterflies had chosen someone else but me?

Would I still be like this if I had grown up in my peaceful little eastern village?

I would probably be living a very boring, quiet life.

And boredom is something I despise.

But yet...

I would still have my family.

I would have a home.

A real home.

I would have people who would care about me, for me.

People who would see me as a person.

Not as some magical weapon.

I am not a good person.

But then again, I never got the chance to be one.