Technically speaking, he was my brother.
And when I say brother, I do not mean that we had the same parents, grew up together, fought over and shared toys.
When I say brother, I mean that we were created in the same way. We have hundreds of brothers and sisters. It was not something he was aware of then, or at first anyway, but it was true. It was slightly strange, but true.
What was infinitely more peculiar was the relationship we had. It held the most extreme elements of love and hate ever known. He was a pest under my boot, he was the insect that you stepped on that did not die. The one that came back to bite you several times before you set it on fire for no other means got rid of the damned thing.
Yet, when the opportunity arose, and it arose often enough, I found myself unable to light him on fire.
His name was Zidane. He was my brother and he was trying to kill me. Why would a brother try to kill his brother? He thinks I am insane.
But Im not. I just want what is rightfully mine. And I want whatever else I may be so inclined to take by the might of my powers.
But I never put an end to Zidanes life. I could have done it so easily, so many times, but I left him alive. Saved him, even, because something about the way he looked at me made me want him. Something about his eagerness, his righteousness, and his desperation made me want him more than anything. And more than anything, I enjoyed the way he pleaded with me.
And it pulled on something in my chest when I watched him carry her off like he was her knight in shining armor, when her night was an overweight buffoon and her savior was part of a band of thieves who masqueraded around as a theater troupe to pillage and plunder all they could get their grimy hands on. Something about it was sweet and romantic, and sickening as I watched and listened. He spoke to her with respect. He held her with care. He wished no harm came to her and did all that he could to remedy the effects she occasionally fell under by some spell or curse of my own, even if it meant risking himself.
And it made me sick to witness, but nothing compared to the way he reached out for me. Nothing changed the way he looked up at me. Not even his pretty princess and those companions of his. I realized I could beat them to bloody hell and he would still want me after he took care of them.
And things happened to turn out unlike to what I had ever imagined. Allow me to enlighten you.