Truthfully speaking, he was my brother.
And when I say brother, I do not mean that we shared a childhood and had the bond of siblings.
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.
What was infinitely more peculiar was the relationship we had. It held the most extreme elements of love and hate ever known. He was like a pest I'd swatted at several times but couldn't kill, and he bit me every chance he got.
Yet, when the opportunity arose, and it arose often enough, I found myself unable to kill him.
His name was Zidane. He was my brother and he was trying to kill me.
But I never put an end to Zidane's 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. I delighted in the way he pleaded with me and when I was gentle, how he treated me.
Something in my chest ached when I watched him carry her off like he was her knight in shining armor. It was sickening to behold. He spoke to her with respect. He held her with care. He protected her at all costs, no matter what magic I cast at her, he interfered every chance he could. I loathed the sight of it, but mended him in spite of it.
It tortured me, but none of it mattered when he reached for me. Nothing changed the way it felt when he looked at me. Not even his pretty princess and those insufferable companions of his. When I realized he'd still come to me once I'd beaten them to near death, the draw to him felt even stronger.
I never could've imagined the events and encounters that would unfold between us.
Allow me to share my tale.