He didn't have friends. He never really had. Memories of times in the ancient past consumed his mind constantly, but never once did he remember the extended hand of friendship, the soothing voice of comfort, the laughter of shared memories. He remembered the death wrought upon his family, his neighbors, anyone who could even come close to being his friend. He remembered the fear he had felt, and the rage he felt afterwards, and the vengeance he sought which he knew would never be sated. Even if he managed to kill the Pharaoh, even if he managed to destroy all those that the Pharaoh cared for, he would never fulfill his thirst for revenge, because the one whom he desired the spill of blood from the most, was already dead.
He would see the little boy who the Pharaoh had, for whatever reason, chosen as his host. Maybe chosen wasn't the right word, but he had kept the child at the very least. Granted, that could be likened to his own Master. The good boy who was his polar opposite. Not his friend, of course. He didn't have friends, don't you remember? Just his host. His "Master"…his puppet. He would see the boy's friends. The useless girl. The blonde haired bully. Sorry, ex-bully. The other boy. He saw how he behaved around them, and toward them, but he would never understand why. These people did nothing for him. They barely helped him. They were his cheerleaders in battle, not his partners or aid. So why did he care for them so much? It went beyond logic!
He was sure there was probably a time, at some point, maybe very long ago, that he had felt this sort of care for another human being. A mother. A father. Siblings. A friend. But the memories of his family were fuzzy and fading with his great age. All he truly remembered about them, was that they were killed and he wanted to avenge their deaths. So, he must have cared for them, right?
He never remembered having a friend, but as he reflected, he realized he must have. Because when he saw his Master, sometimes, for a brief moment, he would remember a boy's smile. Shared laughter. He remembered the extended hand of friendship. And then it faded.