Some time ago, possibly millions upon millions of years, I was a humble and hardworking child in one of the more weaker realms. During these times, I was hungry and disappointed in myself.
From the first time I could speak, I knew the word 'loss'. It was finely imprinted upon my weak and innocent heart. From the time I could walk, I had strived to run. When I could run, I learnt to fight. When I could fight, I could only continue. I was a pitiful existence.
My birth parents left long before I could speak, long before I knew my name. All I knew was that I had to rely on my self to survive. In a world where an urchin could only beg, I decided to hustle. Such a life was very pitiful when I look back at it, but it is was made me into the being I am today. I was not always a Deity, I was once just a little boy with a dream. A beaten and battered child that only wanted to become stronger in the hopes of being recognised and distinguished amongst his peers.
