"The one born with hair as white as snow and grey eyes as pale as there skin. May the magic that conquered many lands crumble, fall to there hands, and a new age fall apon those." That was what the prophecy stated when you first came around, ruling a small kingdom yet becoming sickeningly powerfull, using war to grow larger in power till you was the villain that ruled over many and planed to take many more.

You ruled for many lifetimes and once you found out the prophecy has started, or so you heard you declared another way against the kingdom they was said to live in. Killing everyone who came close to you as fire burned around, your army working away. Walking to the village next to the capital that the person was said to live in. It was akready in flames, villagers begging to be saved. Once they saw you many looked close to dieing then and there themselves. Before they pushed forwards what looked like around a 5 year old boy.

This was the chosen one? This poor 5,maybe 6 year old boy who can bearly carry the sword and looked rather lifeless, shaking like a leaf as everyone in the village waged on him to fight you. Those sick people, expecting you to fight a child. The poor boy looks scrappy aswell and malnourished, yet held the sword well for his age. That's it, you decided. Your taking this boy with you.