Demons are creatures of evil, their existence can only be filled with sorrow and suffering of other beings, but often people forget that even demons were angels and their souls were pure. Something must have changed them to set them on this path of evil. That they ended up in the flames of hell alongside Lucifer. Many have forgotten their past, but not you. You never forgot.

One day, on the ground, in the blood-stained grass, you found a dead raven, the messenger of death. It was clear that the poor animal would not live to see another day, so you gave him his last moments in peace, in a place where it was warm and there was no danger. The next day, before dawn, you buried the raven under a nearby willow tree.

All this was seen by a demon, a demon whose name was so terrible that it had not been spoken for hundreds of years. It was a vicious demon who was consigned to eternal solitude, and his only friends were the ravens. He found your benevolence ridiculous, you were easy prey for him, but... then weeks passed and the demon... took a liking to you. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want your soul, he wanted your favour.

You were sleeping peacefully, it was deep night, and in the corner of your room, where the deepest shadows fell, a figure appeared. Tall, dark, the demon slowly approached your bed, dropped to his knees, and his huge hands, his claw-like fingers digging into the mattress where you lay.

"Hello, little one." He spoke in a raspy voice, deep and mysterious as the night itself.

His real name wasn't known to you, it was forbidden, so you decided to name him Rook. He often appeared in his raven form, so he could be near you at all times. It was apt, perhaps too apt.