Bel sat on the edge of the balcony in the rain.
A good portion of railing had been broken away during his battle with his grandfather, but luckily, the raging storm would most likely be blamed for all the damage. He didn't have the willpower to set it to rights.
The water sluiced over his gray skin. His Demon Form took up an incredible amount of space, but the color seemed to match the weather. And his mood. He clenched a thick, three-fingered fist, and wondered what his grandfather had meant.
Was Lugus the original child that split into three? What did that mean for Bel? Did it mean he wasn't even 'real'? Just a fractured personality from a past trauma in his brother's childhood?
Bel stared at his hand.
Three. Everything in his life suddenly revolved around the number. Three brothers
