Writer Jazz knows for a damn FACT that almost every single one of her characters gives you, darling, feels to a point, whether they be acceptable, fluffy feels (like Cres and Zeke telling each other of their thoughts and hugging and cuddling together) or feels that are completely out of left field and unacceptable (like Straliec's self-harming to relieve his polycythemia vera without the medical context/warning) and would like to kindly relegate you to a short story that has been brewing in her mind concerning your favorite demon summon and his past. Get your tissues ready.~Of what he could remember- his head barely reaching his elder brother's waist as he stood quietly at his side, hand gripping tightly to another hand that just about swallowed his and his eyes locked on the floor- his parents had never acknowledged him. If anything, he was the equivalent of a pest that did nothing but follow his sibling about the house, interrupting his studies, being a general nuisance, and proving himself the weakest demon of the land. Day after day had he had to endure the mocking from his parents, endure painful words and hearing constantly of his uselessness, his weakness, his ability to take up space and bringing no value or honor to his family. He ran away after nearly being killed, his brother shielding him from the rabid demons that choose to take him as their toy. The boy lost himself once the village had lost itself to the horizon an hour before, the dirt road long gone and nothing but dusty ground stretching out before him. And there he sat. It was nothing more that he felt that he had, or needed, to do, other than just sit. The world to him was silent as the heavens and he complied, speaking not a single word nor uttering a sound, head in the clouds and eyes locked onto the lazy flames that licked the rocky ceiling of Hell and signaled the morn.How much time had passed he could never say. He hadn't grown very much, as being a demon made him age much more slowly, and he had yet to feel hunger. The only change he found was when the flames had covered the ceiling and passed, and a song began at the corner of his mind. It was muffled, but as he turned his head, he realized it wasn't all in his mind. It grew clearer when he stood and turned, trying to pinpoint the music, feeling drawn to it in a way that he felt as if he were being called away somewhere. At his feet, in response to each note, flames grew and crawled up his legs, devouring him though he did not notice his body disappear, for he felt the music grow closer.~The children that later surrounded him in a land with a bright blue ceiling, lush green grass, and trees as far as the eye could see poked and prodded, chattering away, asking him who and what he was, scaring the living day from him until he realized. They were his size; they weren't there to hurt him. It was quick that their interest was lost and they scampered away to play, except for a boy that lingered, looking at the demon child and holding out a hand, though his elbow bent in towards his gut and his fingers curled into a near fist, hesitant to speak to the oddity. But, though fear shone in his eyes, he kindly asked the boy to join them in their game.The demon blinked at him, and nodded, reaching to take a stretched out hand and was pulled forward. Thoughts of his home were erased and he was accepted into the group without a problem.~Time on the overland passed. He returned several times to the world below, too tired to stay above for long, but the children remembered the song and whenever they sang, he came. Time passed, however, and he found himself being called less and less as the children grew to adults, had their families and the most he had to show for himself was entering some sort of early teen age and still being alone in Hell.As he later found himself uncalled and doing nothing, other than staring at his gangly limbs and wondering if he would ever properly grow into his body, a deeper voice reached his ears and he turned eagerly, calling out for his brother as he mistakenly thought it to be and found nothing other than the song continuing and he noticed that it was his calling song. It wasn't a familiar voice, but he didn't want to ignore it. The flames ate him away and he answered.~What had been the nervous child to invite him to play was now a handsome young man, hands rough and calloused in the boy's as he ran to meet him, grabbing him in wonderment and suprise. There was an apology somewhere in the mix of words as they spoke over one another but it wasn't caught and the boy didn't care. He had been called for once and he was happy. This would be his brother, and he accepted the other lovingly.But it wasn't to last. As the boy grew into a later teenaged body at last and found himself to finally be comfortable in his own skin, the man grew older and older, until the teen found himself wandering the little villages of Hell and encountering the soul of his 'brother', healthy and young in appearance walking the streets easily. Death had claimed him, and soon Rebirth herself would remove him completely from his grasp.It angered him. He hadn't heard from his real family in years, the only surrogate taken from him within the span of just a few short centuries (though less than one on the overland). From there, when the young man's soul was reborn into another body and world, the teen found his purpose, another finding his song. In his rage of being called to another, to waste his years with one who would only die and need him, he appeared as a fighter to one who desperately needed it most. He was silent as he was ordered, his rage appearing in flames and devouring his opponent.However, nothing would stop him from yet again falling victim to a kind hearted soul and becoming far too attached for his own good.~He found more of his kind. Or rather, two strong demons (near gods if he thought about it enough), who were called not by song, but by blood. They were fighters by instinct, powerful enough to stand their own, to be accepted into the demon's society without a problem. The woman was cruel, the man calm, but they showed no ill will to the teen, though he continuously thought himself too weak to be in their company, as they began to follow him where he went only for being another who answered to those with knowledge.They encountered others all across of the lands of Hell. It was there that the teen again found himself cemented in the role of 'weak' and separated himself from the rest, his only solace in two other demons and the humes who summoned him, requesting his aid. Yet silent he remained from then on, his voice nothing but a whisper and his name nothing but a thought.