Xhatak'les. A label. I despise the word now, although it was used, in so many days past, to describe my demonkind. But that was before. Now I am nothing but a leaf rustling against the dying blades of grass. Like a shattered mirror, I watch pieces of myself break away as I crash like waves against the rocks of this lonely world. I am the last of my kind, a tortured race, ostracised because we are so different, so powerful. Like the fallen leaf, I am at the mercy of the winds of fate. I can only hope that someday soon I will be left to rest. Perhaps before that day, I will find my Tyalin, and my demonsoul will weep no more.