Don't loose heart; an Organization XIII fanfiction

         All I can remember is being in a room, with a man, blonde hair that was somewhat long, with emerald eyes that seemed to glow with curiosity. His name was vexen, so he told me. He seemed to get mad at me for the slightest thing, always telling me to stay still... I can't remember what for. But now here i am, in this castle thinking these things, who am I? how did I get here?  I look at the man before me, quite a bit taller then me. He has a black robe on, and I think that's when i saw i did too... His eyes were like that of a devil cat, rounded shears of honey and amber. I don't think devil cats deserve such a compliment, but this man's eyes were different, evil, but they possessed much grace. But like a devil they had an orange flame, a tint of a flame to them. It looked the fire of hatred, if he could feel that. I got the feeling from his empty expression that he could feel nothing, yet he seemed so angry.  His skin was tanned, like caramel, but lighter. He was rather tall, he stood before me about, perhaps a foot taller. He looked in  his twenties but his hair disagreed. He has silver hair that went down to his shoulder blades. It spiked up a bit on the top of his head and above his ears, though that part spiked toward the back of his head horizontally. He looked at me like he had to put up with me, not with the fatherly look I'd expect, as i recalled from no memory in particular that he is the leader of this thirteenth order, the one who took me in. But, then why did he look so angry? I could feel something, within him, a sense of deception. I knew then not to trust his chicanery words. He was using us as puppets and I could tell by their devotion to the man, that not many truly saw behind his honeyed tongue of deception. He was like a viper, poised and strong. I looked at him, almost fearful, his gaze seemed to soften from a glare of irritation to that of apathy, I guessed this was as joyous as he'd ever appear. I spoke at last.

"Master... Is it like they say? Are we family?" I had heard once, as he gave to me my name, one saying we were family, i can not recall his name, but i could sense his powers had to do with water. And at last he spoke with a voice as deep as the deception he'd used to gather his army of puppets;

"We, physically, have no relation, it is up to you, weather you consider me family.." At that moment there was something about him that i liked rather immediately.