A Demon Chooses, A Servant Obeys

[Observing Future]

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Ever since that Pact was formed with Mahatma, I've found myself writing more. Being more watchful, analyzing things, thinking things over. I can only assume it is a side-effect of melding ones spiritual essence together. I'll write myself one of those silly little 'journals', I see some mortals carry around. I've collected a few in my scavenging runs every so often. The things one can find in ruined buildings or tucked in hidden alcoves in the wild is entertaining on its own! I think it shall detail my thoughts on my past, my present, my future. Strange to ponder about all three, rather than merely living in the moment.

Anyway, I digress. Many of my kin howl to the moon with their ambitions, with desires of a grand hunt. But I have always been the abomination amongst my own. Indulgent was I, in my earlier evolution. I became benign, strong enough for my own servants to play with, strong enough that meals would be bestowed upon me. My encounter with a young Mahatma showed me that I was never strong enough, and yet I indulged in the splendors of wealth, scavenging, grasping and squeezing what entertainment I could from my abysmally dull existence.

When I heard of the expedition, I saw an opportunity. To appease someone of a higher position, to obtain even more. More splendors, more wealth, a place of prestige and recognition. Someplace where I could do even less work, with less effort. Treasures from some backwater land with barely a note of anything but some silly 'Tower'.

Than I witnessed my Lord.

There is something to be said about someone so awe-inspiring. In strength, in speech, in raw capability. It was everything I should aspire to be. And yet, I do not. His gaze can be fierce enough to silence my laughter. His movements carried with poise and posture. He could cut me down without so much as unsheathing his blade, and I had known that the moment I had seen him. This is why the hunt does not matter to one such as myself. In that minuscule moment, I came to realize what my purpose was. It was to serve. Serve the Lord Sages, the Demon King, and those they deem appropriate to follow. I do not need recognition for my actions. I do not need to be protected. I do not need the 'Pack', I only need the Will of my Lord. For his Will, and those he deems as appropriate for me to obey, are the desires I have. I have no value of this 'kinship', I only seek to see what is most beneficial to my Lord.

Such was the nature of the Trials of Claw and Fang. The strongest was already dictated long before, when Ignolf first bested me. But what followed was a judgement of each of their failings, each of their capabilities. Who stood out the most, and who floundered in the face of battle, how they hunted, how they perceived the Trials. What they would say on the eve of battle. There were many that were passionate, many that were strong. But only a few made me ponder most hard. Yet every little detail was noted, every little detail taken down and presented.

It tickles my fancy so. To see the fruits of my labors being reaped by my Lord.

But these things set me aside from this so-called Pack of Hunters. It is what makes me 'special' and yet expendable and useless all the same. Should I die, nothing will change, nor will anything matter. Should I live, I simply continue my eternal servitude, with a nice slice of my particular brand of eccentric madness and self indulgence! After all, the Struggle always awaits, and yearns for more. To watch mortals step away from their precious morality, and become something so much more tangible and delightful.

This was most amusing to simply write my ramblings within. Perhaps I'll do it again sometime.