Mind Scribbles

From an early age Demoriel learned that ones bloodline means nothing in this day and age. They could be the most powerful Individual singlehandedly ruling over your beloved Nation, yet still bloodties meant nothing in this World, for his own name carried neither meaning nor weight. 

Despite having been born into upper society the young boy had always been looked down upon. For what sense was being friendly to toy stripped of all it's use? Why botter including an object faded of all its color you could no longer string along? For the Queen never intended to give up her throne. 

This child, this brat treated so unwelcome. This child, this thing longing for love and acceptance in a World they did not belong. This child, this toy who was nothing short of a discarded object broken beyond repair, with his limbs bound by a string, a soulless marionette dragged along the Queens fearsome whims. For this child, this doll was never allowed to have a soul of its own.