I wonder... Simply because a man has been killed, does that make him truly dead? I thought so, at first, and even more so when I was brought back to life. The hell that my new life has been has made me want to die all over again. How many times now? Four? Six? Yet death merely indicates the failure of the body, no? Not the draining of the mind... In that case, perhaps I am more alive than I had thought...

Dead at seventeen. A pity... Though my own fault, I know. And in the past three years, I have endured such torments, I wondered if my mind... my soul... had died as well. Yet it's strange, really. I have been left to my own free will for so long, I've almost regained that sense of thrill I once had. It is like the first sliver of sunrise peeking over the horizon at dawn. Just a hint of that brilliant sensation. I can almost taste it...

And to make this newfound sense of freedom even more enticing, I have found that I am no longer alone. My Brethren, which I thought had been exterminated three years ago, as I was, has found a new life in of itself. And I had thought myself to be the last of our kind who still followed in our ways... A pleasant misconception this was indeed. We shall see what

those arrogant nobles, whom spit in our faces as though we are dirt, think when they find themselves at the wrong end of my blade.

Such an incredible sensation... Ancients, it's been so long since I've felt that wonderful exhilaration. That tingle, that yearning... The thrill of the hunt. It is my companion, just as my brother once again is. I cannot wait to express this uncontainable energy, this desire to grip another's life... and possessions... in my hands. To find my place once again.

I feel so alive...

Fate... I have come to loathe this word. It seems to revel in my misery, to spit in my face at every chance it gets. It delights in torturing me, constantly forcing me to relive those painful moments, while devising new ways to torment this poor, simple soul. Are my crimes so horrific that I deserve everything I have ever possessed taken from me? Riches, friends, life, hope, love...

Love... I was in love once... Silly, I'm sure. I was merely a boy. Then again, I am still a boy. But in that time, I have lost any trace of innocence which still remained in me. Then, a girl's smile could warm my heart, could create a wonderful feeling in me which I have been unable to match. Now, I've grown so cold... I sometimes wish I could again experience being in love. To have a woman love me in return. But then, how can one love a killer?

A killer... Hm.. is that what I am? I do not consider myself a killer, though I do kill. And thief is such a cruel word... I much prefer acknowledging myself as... a procurer of that which is not mine. Yes, my methods are a bit extreme, but I am not a madman. I do not take pleasure in causing harm unto others. Well.. not much... I will admit, I have often bragged about how expertly I delivered a poor soul to meet his maker, but, is that truly so wrong?

I suppose none can truly understand who I am... I, myself, am still unsure of it. I am a mystery, a lost being, a vacant soul, a dreamer, a rebel... I am.. myself. And that is truly all I can ever be. I am not a bad person. I am not evil. Though I, too, am not good. I simply do what satisfies me, and care little for whatever else there is in this world. Does this make me an uncaring being? You may see it as such, though, in truth, I do care. I care about a great many things. And all of this makes up who I am...

I am the Maverick.