nikolas 'klaus' wulf. d4. fin.

The Wulf legacy was nothing but high expectations. Klaus' father was a successful business man and esteemed career, top of his class. His wife was a career trainer and a trained musician, capable of playing three instruments professionally. She entertained masses throughout Klaus' youth, and he always sat in the front row staring at her with awe. Oh how he wanted to be as pristine and talented as she was. She was graceful, beautiful, adored - flawless, even.

His parents expected nothing less from their only son. A legacy can only be carried through blood, and they trusted their funds and resources with Klaus because they trusted themselves to raise him properly. A strong bloodline meant inheriting all of their talents; all they had to do was let him flourish. As a child, Klaus was fascinated by his family. The music, the reputation, the grandeur of their home. They had one of the largest houses in their neighborhood, a pearly white beauty that was the envy of their community. One day Klaus would inherit all of it, and he was expected to match their success on his own.

Wonder soon morphed into pressure. His parents were not shy in pushing their expectations. His mother would teach him the violin, his father would lecture him about money, and he was enrolled in the career training academy as soon as he was of age. They actually pushed for him to start sooner, but they wouldn't allow it.

He would just have to train extra hard to be the absolute best.

From innocent clay they molded a superiority complex into him. They insisted he was the best so he believed he was the best. There was no reason to think so - the Wulfs were rich and successful, but they were also arrogant and selfish. Affection was withheld until special occasions. If Klaus reached a milestone in his violin lessons, his mother hugged him. If he bested an opponent in training, his father patted him on the shoulder. He became obsessed with gaining their affection, and blamed himself when he couldn't earn it. They didn't have to push him anymore - he did it all on his own, sweating and bleeding for the smallest gestures of approval.

In the training center, he favored the classic sword. It was simple, beautiful, timeless, and he was obsessed with the value of beauty. Eventually he also found himself drawn to spears and javelins. He was not the strongest nor the fastest in his group, but he was the most determined. He was also relentlessly confident. That advantage evolved into arrogance, which pushed many of his friends in the wrong direction. At first, he didn't care - he only needed himself. But nobody likes to be the outcast, and he remembered to adopt the mannerisms his parents taught him.

He was full of himself, but he was polite to others. He held himself to higher standards and stood on an imaginary pedestal, yet he never used spoken words to belittle others. Bullying people was a pathetic way to boost one's self-esteem, so he had no respect for those who did. He didn't need to put others down to prove that he was superior - it was all about action. Show don't tell.

He wasn't quite a narcissist, and he didn't quite have a god-complex, but he teetered on a dangerously blurred line. His own self-image was a delusion, a hero inspired by ancient myths. He knew he could become that person. He could have that legacy. It was his destiny because his life had demanded it. He dreamt of being famous and earning the affections of others, having his name flashing across televisions screens. Shallow dreams from a boy who hadn't been raised to know better.

Materialism was one of his weaknesses. He had unique tastes: if his wardrobe was off, he couldn't stand to walk outside. If an establishment didn't meet his standards of cleanliness, he walked out. If a partner didn't measure up to match his social status, they were ignored. Feelings were hurt in the process, but Klaus usually didn't notice. Affection was not his strong suit - it was hardly shown to him as a child. Did he believe love and affection were weaknesses? No. Did he struggle with the concept anyway? Naturally.

He had priorities anyway, and love was not one of them.