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Reflections of the Past

With Volpes’s design completed thanks to Deriaz’s work, I was finally ready to start using him in YCHs that helped flesh him out and tell his story. I don’t deny that he started life as a fetish character, but I have never been one to simply stop at fetish without going a little further. Yes, I wanted a villain, but I also wanted someone who had a believable motive for descending into villain and taking drastic measures.

And this YCH, from LittleBadWolf, back in November of 2020, was a great start to realizing that. It perfectly complimented an idea I had been mulling over in my head, and served as the perfect excuse to pen it out.

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The titan returned to his chambers after a long day, fulfilling the wishes of the people in his adopted home. Every day, one step closer to building his paradise: A world where no one would have to go through the same torment he did in his youth.

It was then that he gazed into the mirror. On most days, this ritual would have been met with the grin. He had become the man he always wanted to be. Strong, cunning, intelligent: All the traits that one should aspire to. What better affirmation could there be than gazing upon the majesty of his own handiwork?

And yet, for the briefest of moments, that was not the image that greeted him. To his horror, the mirror reflected back a young foxling, tears streaming down his face as one of the older kids towered over him. As if on playback, the memories he thought he had grown past began once more bubbling to the surface.

Adrenaline surging thorough his system, baser instincts rearing their ugly head, a fist slammed against the mirror. Snarling, he realized it was his own, turning away from both the impact and the recollection before his own blind rage began to build up for a second time.

Taking a moment to recompose himself, the alchemist moved to the small worktable in his quarters, and flipped his notebook to the recipe for the old sleeping draught his weaker self relied on to make it through the night.

He was supposed to be above these feelings. He was supposed to be Volpes, Savior of the Downtrodden. Everything has been going exactly as planned.

So why, the titan pondered, does this torture still persist!?

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The next day, his employees were ordered to take the mirror away and replace it with a new one. It had been the 3rd such time in as many months they had complied with this same command. When his employees questioned if he was okay, the Savior simply shrugged off their concerns, claiming that he did not fully realize his own strength and pressed too hard against the mirror.

Even natural empathy, bolstered by chemically-induced loyalty, could not hope to open up his heart. That lingering inadequacy was not ready to be shared with the world, and time would tell if it ever could be.