It's been written that ages and ages ago, when the world was still young and cast in the shadows of mystery and fear, one of the greatest heroes to have ever walked the earth had been born; his birth marked the coming of a new age, one where the world was freed from the clutches of the most feared Demon of all time.
Rette was born into a small herd, led by his father before Rette's brother had taken up the task to direct the herd into a better future; Duui, his brother and current leader of the herd, was always the favorite of the two. He had a striking silver pelt, was quick-witted and smooth, yet kind hearted. A true leader. Rette was always pushed aside, as Duui was favored by both his parents. Rette's childhood was full of cold feelings, causing his future to hold little laughter.
When Rette came of age he left the herd, travelling for years by himself and coming across many other herds that would have welcomed him with kindness; yet the long years of solitude had hardened him, and he politely declined when the herds gave him an option of joining. He was a loner, and would forever be.
One day, though, an encounter he would never forget took place in a large, grassy meadow.
Rette had been travelling without food or water for at least three or so days; exhausted, he collapsed in the tall grass, next to a small trickling stream. When he awoke, another was beside him, tending to his wounds. A mare, by the name of Lazzi. She posessed a coat of sea green, with auburn mane and tail. A true beauty, and Rette was taken with her at first sight.
It took Rette a couple of days to heal back to full health, and all during that time Lazzi stayed with him, talking and telling stories; eventually the two fell in love with each other, and Lazzi accompanied Rette on his journeys.
Rette and Lazzi travelled together for exactly one year before they crossed paths with Fawn, the mysterious mare said to posess the Sight; the two travellers offered Fawn shelter for the night, and there she had made a prophecy that Rette would never forget.
The verse told of the 'Marked One' defeating a great evil; Fawn noted the strange marking underneath Rette's left eye, a grey stripe-like shape that he had been born with. Rette didn't believe Fawn when she proclaimed that he was the one who was supposed to battle the demon. Angered, Rette left into the night, Lazzi tailing behind.

Another year passed and the world started to change; it was autumn, and though the leaves usually did start falling they didn't all turn black, crumpling to the forest floor. The winds grew chillier, though winter wasn't for another three months. The skies were oddly colored, the dawn shining darkly across the landscape; eventually the sky was deep plum, with black clouds cobwebbing the horizon. The prophecy was coming true day by day.
Soon Rette and Lazzi were forced to withdraw into an abandoned cave, sheltering from the biting cold. The days steadily grew darker, until at last Rette's disbelief in the prophecy was slowly growing thinner.
It was the evening of that day, and Lazzi was sound asleep. Rette crept out of the cave, feeling the cold air upon his white pelt. He was making his way over to the stream for a drink when something stirred in the darkness; he froze, until a voice swept over him, holding him in its icy grip.
So this is the warrior, it whispered darkly, the chilly wind seeming even more cold with each word uttered from the fanged mouth. It's said that you are the one to kill me in battle.
Rette backed up into the cave, until dawn thrust violet rays across the hillsides; Rette scouted out the area, finding nothing. Figuring it was nothing more than lack of sleep, he shook his head and went back inside the temporary shelter.
These eerie encounters happened night after night, and yet Rette didn't tell Lazzi a thing, for he wanted to keep her safe.

It was on an especially dark night that Rette's world had shifted completely once more.
The travellers were lost in a merciless fog, and neither one could tell if it was day or night. They decided to stop briefly, as they couldn't see at all through the unnaturally dark mist.
Something odd happened then, but no one really knows exactly what. It's said that the two got separated somehow, drawn off by a mysterious sound that sounded like comforting chimes; neither knew it was the Demon leading them off different paths.
Some say Rette broke free of the enchantment and rushed back only to find Lazzi dead, her corpse thrown aside in a puddle of her own blood. Others protest that Rette didn't break free, but instead was led out of the fog, without finding Lazzi at all. Either way, Lazzi seemed to have perished in the cloudy trap, Rette alone, anguish overtaking him to run off who knows where for days, trying to forget it all, everything. But the Demon followed him along, cloaked in shadow and mystery like some great black bird watching Rette through cold, beady eyes.

Soon Rette came upon a temporary haven, where he rested for days in the safety of the trees, feeding off grass and the creek that wound through the forest. It seemed peaceful, but yet Rette was continuously haunted by the Demon as he spied on the uni, growing stronger as he was nurtured by nature.
It was then that the Demon decided to reveal himself.

This occured on the darkest night yet, ever since Fawn had told Rette of the prophecy. Pitch black was the night, and the moon, though out, was not silvery and comforting any longer. Instead it was a dull gray, offering no light to illuminate the trees, because the Demon had willed it so.
Rette was apparently concious when the winds shifted, and sounds came from the trees around him. He wheeled around, staring down the darkness until the shadows seemed to give a shape to something hideous, born from hate, like the Devil had sent his greatest creation out from the tales of Rette's childhood. Horrible, glinting ebony eyes were narrowed in a mask-like face that seemed to have a snout, with fangs. Not a wolf of any kind, but more of a fallen hawk, the beak pertruding forth from a veil of black. The feathers were embers of loathing, and the monster was of considerable size, bulky and tall like a mishapen boulder; though the form appeared gas-like.
To Rette's horror it began to speak. A rumbling sound, like thunder, or a thousand waterfalls began to fill his ears painfully and the beak of the Demon parted with a voice of death itself. Shrieks and cries of pain and grief, formed in cruel words that left Rette shaking.
You're no match for my strength. This is mockery, whispered the Demon. I wanted a challenge. A fight for the world requires a formidable opponent, one who can match my sorcery. No one else to challenge a Demon? With a horrible creaking sound the giant head looked around with mock surprise. Fine then. We fight now, to determine the ruler of the skies and the earth and the trenches of the sea. I think we both already know who will win.
Without warning Rette was tossed and thrown around like a simple doll, smashing against trees as the Demon's insane cackles filled the night air. With a simple wave of a great, shadowy wing, the ground Rette stood on erupted and shattered, causing the uni to catapult and hit numerous trees.
Too easy.
Eventually Rette adapted to the surprising techniques of his foe, and maganed to evade the attacks long enough to take off at a full gallop, running blindly through the forest as the screaming voice of the Demon soared after him.
Blood and sweat lathered his body, and he thought about the once peaceful life he had led before. He felt almost selfish about wishing that this cursed life could be someone else's and that he would be able to roam the land like he once did. His memory blackened, but he shook it off, feeling all that hatred that he had aquired over his years; stimulating his reflexes to make himself go faster, his pace abnormally quick despite the deep gashes and cuts and bruises that littered his snowy coat.
And he decided that, if he must die, he would do so valiantly.
The Demon was behind him, the foul jaws opening up, reading to snap shut as soon as Rette was within range. Rette could feel the blood coursing through his body, pounding in his ears--he turned abrubtly, wheeling on his heels and diving into the beak of the monster.
Everything seemed to stop. Time was a marble moment.
The Demon halted, emitting that eerie laugh that quaked the earth. But he laughed too soon. Rette was not dead, and much to the Demon's surpise a silvery crystal horn pertruded forth from the shadowy flesh, sawing through as black fire bled from the growing gash. A horrible cry as the Demon tried to claw at the horn; Rette burst forth, sopping in shadows that writhed on his figure. The Demon snarled and struck with his last remaining strength, his jaws widened, ready to engulf the uni. But Rette dodged just in time, and he turned just as the torn body of his opponent withered and decayed in the dark, hellish flames that erupted from his body.
Rette breathed. Immediately the sky lightened with the coming dawn, streaks of gold pouring across the world. All that was left of the now fallen Demon was a chain, with a silver key dangling forth from it. The very same key that the previous owner had once used to access the heavens and the hells of the earth. Knowing that, if left here, it would become a danger, Rette took up the pendant. He guards it to this day still.
The hero turned, walking exhaustedly off; he didn't realize that a pair of sparkling jade-green eyes peered at him from the shelter of the trees.