He was beautiful. Every single part of him was a sight for only the righteous to see, from the sole of his feet to his long twists of hair that accompanied his shoulders. He was created to love, to give others what they needed to be truly happy. He was created to do what he was created for...love. For eons upon time that's exactly what he did, he was a healer of the heart. Humanity prayed to him to heal what they couldn't fix inside and he indeed did. It brought him joy to see the instant happiness sparkle in their eyes when a prayer was answered. Then war came, and all that was-was no more. His friends, family, even a few of his enemies all perished by the hand of his father. Him and his brothers and sisters had not choice but to take the life of their creator and take control of humanity. For they were it's only hope, and in doing so, the life he was content with. The life that brought him joy was gone, he was forced to become what humanity feared, hate.
