No need for a name, no need for a title.
I am my Sire's shield,
His harbinger of terror and delight.
Desiring no self, except to serve and obey Him.
Age defines me not,
imbued with cryonics elements defying Time.
Celibate, Spiritual, chosen out of but the fewest elites, finest of the purest ilks.
No will of my own but the innocence of my soul,
tainted and mingled with my Sire's blood.
A weapon master designed to hunt: a hound of the highest calibre.
Spy, assassin, intelligence agent, sniper, chamberlain, entertainer, strategist,
none classifies me but I lord above them all.
Second in command, mouth for Him,
nobler than the sagest of them all.
Allowed no love, no childhood memories, deprived of own family,
observant and slave to tradition.
Allowed no audience, raised on venomous oath, unshakable pledge,
Until angels claim me or beasts drag me to hell.
A shell empty of humanity, a royal guardian in impenetrable mask,
bonded in deepest shades, residing in Occlumency.
I am but expendable,
a double and mirror phantom to His Personal General,
They call me:
Shadow General.
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