Talk:Gandharva/@comment-198.54.211.2-20150206225457/@comment-203.106.156.83-20150207144604

I blink as memories of that battle flashed into my eyes. She was the reason I was forced to travel like a vagabond scraping for what little resources I could find to survive. She was why my comrades, Mathew, once lively and cheerful, could only give a pained glance in her direction, why Batr was shaking like a leaf, curled up like a little ball, why Mauven could only look with a dull dead expression.

As for me? Well, like them I was destroyed, all because of this selfish hedonistic, nymphomanic, sex-crazy fiend. All I had left of the family that I could've regain was the guitar I would always play for the young ones, and my wife, or whenever I got into arguments with my parents. So I clinged on what little sanity I had left, I held onto the little thread of humanity inside of me. That very little piece that prevented me from bashing my old family guitar in her head until the only thing recognisable of her was her wings.

I played, ignoring her request. I closed my eyes, and sang an old tune from my town. I don't remember what it was, but I remembered how my old grampa would sing and dance whenever he visited.

Eventually I head some of my comrades join me, muttering the lyrics as we waited for the woman to play her tune. To make us dance to our lust.

The final thing I remembered from my human memories, were the smiling faces of my wive, my kids, and my two loving parents. Before I felt the Demonic Energy course inside me.