Once upon a time, back in the rule of the Titans, there was a little Ragarian boy who was born in the Sea of Skulls. His mother had died giving birth to him and his father abandoned him soon after, blaming him for her death. The boy spent the first ten years of his life in a Ragarian orphanage just outside of Black Crescent – the primary city in the heart of Ragar. The 14th day after his 11th birthday, everything changed. 

He awoke to explosions shaking the roof of the orphanage, an intense heat seeping in through the windows. In a moment’s notice, half the orphanage was obliterated, sending pieces of shrapnel into his body. He painfully crawled over the piles of stone so as to not drown in the fire scorching him, then noticed two glowing red eyes through the smoke looking directly at him from about 20 yards away. The eyes began moving closer to him, slowly allowing his eyes to make out glowing red veins, as if they were roots of a lava tree, covering the figure of the body. This was the last day he didn’t have a purpose. This was the last day he didn’t serve a master.

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