Born in a proud clan of strong warriors as one of the potential successors to the leader, Soren grew up in a disciplined and very methodical environment, where harsh training since a tender age was the norm and there was no place for childish games and silly antics. The once high expectations put on him fell apart as soon as his spectra manifested, far too soon for an unprepared child. His shadow had come to life, a spectra long considered a bad omen among the clan, soon making him an outcast among his own, branding him as a cursed child. As if that wasn’t enough, it had a mind of its own, the complete opposite of Soren: childish, immature, irresponsible, always up to mischief and never listening to a word Soren said.

All his attempts to get the mischievous shadow under control only resulted in more and more trouble, further feeding into the now painfully common belief that he was truly cursed and would only bring disgrace and eventually even death to the clan.

After yet another failed attempt, Soren was, to put it mildly, fed up with everything. Tired of trying to redeem himself for something he didn’t even choose and hearing everyone talking behind his back about his so-called curse, he simply decided to pack up his few belongings and find a permanent solution.

For once, it seemed that luck was finally on his side, as he found a spectrel willing to help him, offering a charm that was supposed to get the shadow under control and finally making it behave. With his judgement still clouded by the hate of his clan, he didn’t think twice of accepting, caring little for the consequences. Until it was too late.

The charm bore a curse, a far more dangerous one than the impish yet harmless shadow. The spectrel offering it had been trying for a while to craft charms capable of holding the curses of the gods, each and every attempt failing as miserably as the previous one. Trying to get rid of the faulty charms was far easier than creating them, and Soren just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, desperate enough to try something that would do more harm than good.

The faulty charm he had been offered turned him into a demon, a beast incapable of thinking, attacking anything in sight without a care. When he came to his senses as the transformation faded away, the woods that once surrounded him had been destroyed, the flawed charm laying broken at his feet, and the spectrel nowhere in sight.

In his panic, he couldn’t think clearly, rushing back to the clan as fast as his feet would allow him, hoping against all better judgement that someone, anyone would be able to help him. Going back was even more foolish than leaving in the first place.

As soon as they found out about the new curse, the elders decided it was too much of a risk to even try and help a child already doomed long ago. Soren was quickly sentenced to death.

Faced with the guards, the demon surfaced again, called by the intense fear, hatred and anger lingering in the air. When the guards attacked, it didn’t hesitate to retaliate in self-defense, lashing out with all its might and violence despite being so heavily outmatched and outnumbered. Only when it was painfully clear that staying and fighting would result in its death did the demon finally decide to run away, its newfound strength quickly carrying it far enough to be safe from its attackers.

Soren woke up in a dark and cold cave to his shadow sitting next to him, keeping careful watch for any sign of danger. It was the first time he didn’t see its playful grin, replaced by a worried and almost terrified expression. It was also the first time in years that Soren allowed himself to cry again, his shadow quietly offering any comfort it could.

Once recovered from that fateful event, Soren steeled himself for what would come next. Having already been tricked and betrayed twice, he wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it meant not trusting anyone ever again. It shouldn’t be so hard when he was used to being alone already, right? No matter how much his stubborn shadow disagreed with him, it was the safest course of action. Then came finding a way to get rid of the curse, to get back some sort of normalcy in his life.

And if they still wanted to call him cursed, to cast him away as if he was poison, why try to change anyone’s mind? It’s far easier to carry the label like the burden it was, to keep everyone away for his own sake.

Before he could even realize it, the curse he used to fear became his shield from the world.