My earliest childhood memories were of my fifth or sixth year. From what I was
told I was raised in the Presidio of the Damned from infancy. Lord Jhagreer had
taken me in weeks, if not days, from childbirth. No one here seemed to care too
much for it, or at least they hid their curiosity from the Lord and myself. It
also seems I was not the first child to be taken under the Lord's wings; the
last one was Lady Nariah who became a prominent figure in the nihilist guild.

Lord Jhagreer was the religious head of the Presidio, an undead viscanti, few
crossed him, most leaving him to his own designs. I was to be raised as a
future nihilist it seemed, for I was dressed and equipped with all sorts of
religious reading materials suitable for any scholar. Aside from these I was
trained rather harshly on the general subjects of history, literature,
politics, etiquette, speech, and any other text the priest could find to dump
in my lap. It was in that fifth or sixth year that my studies with him began.

The priest never once spoke of my family or my origins and I never bothered to
ask. He did, however, speak constantly on the subject of Lady Nariah,
constantly boasting of how his way of teaching made her what she was today. I
paid no attention to it and kept to my studies.

I found that I was quite adequate in advancing in all scholarly areas. I would
rarely get beaten for a failed lesson, and after a while the Lord would beat me
for insignificant reasons if only to fulfil his need to beat someone. At first
the lashes stung and scarred my body terribly, but as the years went by I grew
accustomed to them, the pain simply a reminder of my existence, as it was not
a result of any misdoings on my part.

In my spare time I found myself reading many forms of literature, poetry,
novels, scientific findings, all with the hope of finding something that would
interest me further, inspire me into that field entirely. However, I soon
learnt that I lacked the one thing that made any of that possible. Emotions.
From infancy I' have never learnt the emotions of love, hate, excitement,
depression, and so on. Being nothing more than a nuisance to the priest and
almost nonexistent to all else who habit the Presidio I found I never grew a
sense of likes and dislikes. Not that I didn't know how to interact socially.
Indeed proper etiquette lessons involved how to respond in conversational
situations, when to smile, laugh, be upset, however, none of those emotions
came to me normally.

The priest failed to notice this aspect of me but neither did he really care
how I progressed emotionally. As long as I had the intellectual knowledge
needed by all scholars he deemed his job a success.

In fact the only time I noticed him show any sign of content in my presence was
on the days of Lady Nariah's visits. They were frequent and always professional,
there seemed little fondness between the two, however, the Lady was becoming
more and more of a commanding figure within the Nihilists, eventually becoming
the Heresiarch before my tenth year. Lord Jhagreer had no choice but to show
kindness to her despite the fact she often belittled him with every sentence
spoken.

Lady Nariah was a remarkable viscanti, tall and elegant, she bore herself not
with the misplaced confidence of those born into power, but of one who has had
to forge her place with her own two hands, and had been successful at that.

The lady never spoke to me, and aside from a few moments that she'd pause to
watch me, evaluating with her eyes, she ignored my presence altogether. Despite
it all, I grew somewhat interested in her and began to ask around. The only
people that would bother to respond me to me were the servants and only the
eldest of those knew anything of this matter. However, from what I gathered
Lady Nariah had a very difficult upraising, her mother having left her for some
absurd reason gave her to the priest to raise. The priest was anything but kind
to her, often humiliating and defiling her openly to all who was present to
witness it. Not once acknowledging her existence until she proved her worth
scholarly.

Upon learning of these rumours I began to think differently of the priest. I
would not call it anger as I saw no reason to be angry, instead I began to
question the priest's methods, whether or not learning from him would bear any
worthwhile merits at all. Lady Nariah would often refer to the Lord as uncle
when alone, ignoring my own presence. However, as I mentioned before there was
no love in it, Nariah eye's would pierce through the old viscanti as one
humours a child. It was in light of this that I began to formulate my own ideas
around my tenth year.

Normally I spoke little, only when it became necessary, not that there was
anyone to speak with anyhow. I simply lived my days as expected of me, I did
not question the priest in anything he spoke. Then finally a day came when all
that changed. As normal I was having a lesson in Lord Jhagreer's study, he was
busy writing down notes on a slate board which I was meant to copy. All the
while he went on rambling about how grateful I should be for having the
opportunity to learn from him as Lady Nariah once did.

Unable to bear it anymore I chose to raise my voice for the first time.

"Tell me sir, is Lady Nariah my mother?", the question stunned the priest into
silence.

"By that I mean, Lord, you speak of her in a matter that would suggest that I
should take notice of her. If she bears no relation to me, why would it matter
to me the degree of her success? It, in fact, should hold no bearings with me at
all unless she indeed is the mother who left me to you so long ago."

The priest's silence gave me the cue to continue. "If indeed she is my mother
that would clear up many uncertainties, I believe the Lady is indeed only
engaged to a d'Murani human, and was freshly elected the Mystagogue of the
Nihilists when I was born. She would hardly have had time for her bastard son
back then so she brought me to the one who raised her those many years ago."

Finally the old man began to move, a small smirk visible on his undead face.
"It seems my effort on you was not totally wasted child. Indeed you are quite
observant to pick up on these details so I shall reward your efforts by
conferring that yes Lady Nariah d'Iasani is your own mother."

"That brings me to my next question, Lord", I started up again without giving
the man a chance to continue. "My mother is now the Heresiarch of the Nihilist
Guild of Magnagora, who better to teach me then her? Why does she not come
retrieve me now? Why am I still here?"

"Insolent whelp!", the priest snarled. "As I said the Lady is far too busy to
deal with the likes of you, you've much to learn before you would even be able
to converse with her let alone learn fr--"

I cut him off there. "Then why Lord do you...? Surely your research is of great
importance as well. You've been researching far longer than either I or Lady
Nariah have been alive so why are you the one detailed with the job of caring
for me. A task far beneath a viscanti of your status."

These words hit the Lord hard, not so much that he could not answer but simply
that such words would be spewing from my mouth, a mouth that for ten years
prior had never opened but to consent to his every order.

"I can only stand to believe there are ulterior motives for this set up. Surely
even if the Lady required secrecy for my upbringing she must have had others who
could perform as efficiently without taking up your time. However, on another
note why would she want you to raise me? Tell me sir were you kind to my
mother? From what I hear in her early years you were anything but. So why sir
would she leave me to your hands to face the same harsh reality she herself
once did? I can only think that she did not choose you to punish me, but to
punish you Lord."

I chose this moment to form my own smug smirk upon my lips, an action I learnt
would prove quite irritation to others in such situations. "The great priest of
the Presidio, forced to kneel and take the role of a nurse maid while the very
child you raised grows in status and power. Never receiving thanks or
acknowledgement for his deeds he is doomed to sit here wilting away perhaps to
be called upon in the future to nurse some other's child... A great fate
indeed, Lord."

Now it is evident to anyone with the smallest amount of rational sense that
these claims were clearly false and elaborated, however, they did fulfil the
job they were meant to do. Needless to say my lessons with Lord Jhagreer ended
on that day. From then on the priest would ignore my existence as best he
could, and I left to my own means since no one else at the Presidio would
bother to question me.

Over the next few months my life changed drastically. No longer burdened with
the lessons of Lord Jhagreer, I was free to indulge myself in whatever perked
my interest. I began to read all kinds of texts, from in-dept histories of the
land, of prominent viscanti, to the study of necromancy, and even to craft
skills such as forging. I read with the goal of finding one area which I could
truly devote myself. One specialization that I could pursue as my own, with the
devotion and enthusiasm that was common for most people. I no longer wanted to
be alone, in my thoughts and goals.

However, as the weeks went by, and I began to search more desperately I found
that I had a proficient interest in many fields but none called to me as I had
expected. When reading the many texts of the Presidio library I found that
every author spoke to the reader with biased ideals. Trying to convince the
reader that their field is of greatest importance or satisfaction. However,
after a day or two most of the topics were simply in theory and were more time
consuming than intellectually demanding.

Growing tired of academic prospects I found myself daily visiting the Presidio
barracks to watch the troops go about their daily training. The soldiers were
all either taurian or orclach, veterans, with many scars upon their body, each
probably telling an extensive tale. The captain of the guard was the sole
viscanti of the bunch, one Lady Savara n'Rotri. Her presence alone commanded
utter obedience and respect.

Unlike the taurians or orclach who wielded the large weapons such as great-axes
or lances, Lady Savara wielded only a single katana on her side. Despite her age
she was quite beautiful, her glittering blue eyes contrasting nicely with her
purple skin. Her face, however, never wavered from the stone cold expression
that best fit her role of captain.

Daily the Presidio guard would undergo intense training, often involving
furious team combat that resulted in very injuries. It didn't take long before
I was able to distinguish their superior skill levels. These were not ordinary
soldiers. These were orclach and taurian alike, chosen amongst many to be the
proud safe keepers of the Presidio of the Damned, haven to upper-class
viscanti. Although they most likely rarely saw any real combat they made sure
their skills were not lacking. If they could not find any worthwhile combat
situations they would manifest it themselves. If there were any who thought
their training to be simplistic and easy going, there would be a large chance
they would not survive beyond a week.

Soon enough I began to recognize the various patterns and techniques in their
movements. No action was done unnecessarily. Every turn, strike, step,
intentional, like dancers moving to coordinated steps. I found myself jotting
down notes on their movements, drawing models of various techniques, trying to
decipher the reasoning behind them. What area were they aiming for? Why did he
turn slow this time but faster the next? Why did he step back here despite the
chance to advance? It soon became apparent that there was an intense amount of
concentration and planning in every second of combat.

Still, however, I was not convinced. I was determined that with enough
analysing and practice I could easily imitate their actions, finding openings,
and proving yet again that combat is no more satisfying than any other field.

Soon the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. As I watched the troops, I
found myself taking note of their psychological development as well. Most,
despite their experience, were rambunctious and noisy enjoying every moment of
it. Others were more quiet and stoic but even they when in combat could not
hide their body's excitement, involuntary movements in their hands, legs, eyes
that revealed their eagerness. Although this was to be expected these beasts
were soldiers, they chose to be, why risk their lives if they did not enjoy it.

That raised another concept that was unknown to me, that of honour and duty.
These men lived and breathed it. Honour was everything to them, they treated
the captain like a queen, doing her every bidding, becoming ecstatic when
complimented for their efforts. The idea was completely lost to me, what need
was honour to a soldier. They need only fulfil their duty as dictated. They
need not ponder it, for there are others who are trained specifically for that.

In that the ideals of honour was similar to religion, a guide to life that is
forced onto individuals by their surroundings. You become a soldier either
because you enjoy combat, or you wish to provide your skills to aid whatever
cause you're joining. Honour has no place in the battlefield. Those who think
too highly of it will find themselves in the ground first.

Thoughts such as this passed through my mind endlessly in these times. I could
not limit them nor heed them. My mind raced on its own as if fearing that soon
I would be forced once again to learn as one dictated. Then a day came late in
the year when my life once again would take a turn.

As I sat on a bench near the barracks, watching the daily training skirmishes
Lady Savara motioned me to approach. As this was the first time anyone other
than the servants or Lord Jhagreer had addressed me I was unsure as to what to
do.

However, the captain remained patient, her eyes never leaving me, she did not
call to me a second time, but simply waited for me to comply.

When I came to stand in front of her she looked at me with the evaluating eyes
I was already so used to. "I've tolerated you observing us for a long now. I
believe it's time you show us that you've learnt from it and did not waste my
kindness."

I did not see this coming, and before I could raise any form of response I was
being outfitted in heavy steel plate-armour which did not fit nearly well
enough as they were made for the massive figures of the taurians and orclachs.
Instead I was given some leather armour, with a helm and boots to match. In
each hand I was given a large steel shield and its matching steel longsword. I
found both very difficult to lift, I was barely able to move them let alone
have each arm operate in unison. However this feeling of being uncomfortable
was insignificant when I spotted my opponent for this little trial. Lady Savara
apparently picked out one of her veteran taurian drill sergeants to duel with
me. The beast probably just breached eight feet tall. His biceps alone were
wider than my entire torso. He wielded a great-axe that made my shield seem
ridiculously outclassed.

The beast grinned at me as the other soldiers forced a circle around us meaning
to be the limits of our "ring". The captain seemed unamused, as if her choice of
opponent did not pose any sort of problem. I was fairly sure that my death today
would be dismissed as an accident should any questions arise. So I had no choice
but to take this match seriously with my life on the line.

I took a moment to recall the many notes I had been busily pouring myself over
the last few weeks, all the more grateful for them now. Then nodding that I was
reading I focussed my attention to my opponent, who did not bother to adorn any
form of armour.

I had read much about the various races so I knew already that taurians were
the most aggressive and susceptible to rage than any other. I clearly could not
overpower him so I had no choice but to keep my distance and wait for an opening
to show itself while I drive the beast to anger.

The plan seemed fine, however, putting into action was an entirely different
thing. As the captain announced the start of the match the taurian charged
forward, seeking to end the battle quickly. I had little time to avoid the
first massive swing by sidestepping to the left, however, the beast was already
following through with his backswing before I could properly regain my balance.
I braced my shield for the blow and found myself airborne a moment later. The
first instance of pain hit me as I landed hard on the ground several metres
away.

Frantically I scampered to my feet searching for my shield and sword. Both had
been dropped when the taurian hit contacted me. He grinned widely at me as the
other guards all hollered in laughter. The beast took up my arms and tossed
them carelessly to me. Waiting for me to wield them before beginning his charge
yet again.

This time I was ready for it. Watching from a distance was nothing in
comparison to being in the midst of it. The time it took to respond was not
nearly enough to think of a rational plan. At best all I could do was evade the
blows and run to a safe distance. My shield was already bore a nasty looking
crack which I suspected deemed it useless. However the idea of taking on that
axe without it was out of the question.

My only option was to rely on my speed. The taurian indeed had ferocious
charging speed, but lateral movement was nonexistent. It relied on its arm span
to hit any opponent who managed to avoid his initial charge. Swinging his arms
around like with tremendous strength the great axe quickly covered up the short
moment the beast's back is exposed while it turns around.

Still, as the battle continued that small moment of opening grew larger and
larger.

I noticed soon that my current speed was not sufficient to take advantage of
the opening so reluctantly I abandoned my shield and took my sword in two
hands. At this the guards all grew quiet. True I now had the freedom to attack,
however, if I took any of his blows now it would be fatal and everyone there
knew it.

Yet I was confident and I waited patiently for the beast to continue his
charge. Diving yet again to one side barely missing the axe's edge I rolled to
my feet, ducked the back swing the beast launched as it spun itself. Grabbing a
handful of dirt I tossed it into the face of the taurian as he turned blinding
him. The beast howled in pain, blindly swinging his axe.

I was forced to step back to avoid the swings, even in its state of desperation
the taurian was very dangerous, a beast trapped in a corner.

However, this was the opportunity I was looking for. Waiting for the
appropriate moment I slid under an axe swing and went to work on slicing the
beast's limbs. Biceps, forearm, thighs and calves - the days of watching the
dance-like movements of the captain now bore their fruit.

The feeling was invigorating as every moment I turned my back to the beast I
feared that it would regain its eyesight and gut me right there and then.
However, it had not and the pain of the sword slashes only drove it further
into madness.

It continued to swing desperately, however, now each was heavily exaggerated
and easy to dodge. More and more slices from my sword cut into the taurian
skin, its hide being far tougher than I imagined. Even if I wanted to
decapitate a limb I would not have the strength to.

Finally as the beast lost its balance in another wide miss I barged into its
legs sending it timbering into the ground. On instinct the beast tried to reach
for his axe but I kicked it aside and pointed my sword tip an inch away from his
neck. I stepped on one arm firmly to restrict its movements. I knew fully well
if I let him the taurian could fling me far just by raising itself. However in
this position the slightest movement from his arms would give it away and I
could drive my sword straight through his neck.

A few cheers went up from the guards and they roared for me to finish the job.
Death was the only option for a soldier who lost to a civilian, this was most
likely another aspect of their useless honour but I thought nothing of it.

The taurian looked up at me with red eyes, tears swelling either from the dirt
before or in fear for its life.

"Please..." it begged, his voice coming in only whimpers now. "Have mercy..."

I looked at him quizzically. Mercy? Had this soldier sunk so low as to beg for
pity from the opponent? Perhaps this was just a ruse to drop my guard. Either
way the idea of it did not register in my mind.

"I'm afraid I'm not much for mercy." I said flatly as I flexed my muscles and
drove the sword forward with what remaining strength I had.

It took me a moment to register what was wrong for the sword did not budge
despite all the force I put into it. The surrounding guards all burst into
laughter and cheers, the captain herself struggled to contain her smile. My
opponent himself grinned at me widely. Then I saw the problem. The beast had
caught my sword with his free left hand. With only the strength of his fingers
he had nullified all my remaining strength.

With little effort the beast rose, lifting me high with one hand, my sword in
the other.

"That was superb." He told me nodding approvingly and setting me on the ground.

He was playing with me it seemed. The speed he needed to stop the sword in that
instant would mean that the beast had many times over my agility. He could have
cut me down in the first charge if he wished.

Rather than being angry I simply nodded to him. Of course if combat was this
easy there would be no challenge. I would have most likely have lost interest
in the entire thing if the beast had died so easily.

The captain approached me and the guards all fell silent again. "Well done
young one. I see you've picked up from my own movements, which would probably
suit you better than the techniques of these massive fools." She glanced at her
grinning troops.

"From today on you are hereby denied the privilege of observing our training."
For a moment I stood uncertain, if I had done well why I was denied the chance
to learn more.

"Instead young viscanti, we shall make a true soldier of you. Consider yourself
privileged, thousands wish to be among the Presidio guard, and you get to train
with us from the beginning." She paused for a moment, observing my reaction, of
course I stood there with my normal stone faced expression waiting for her to
finish.

"However, I will not force you into it, there are no demands for you to become
a soldier, few viscanti do, nor it is close to an easy road. There will be many
days for which you will reconsider your choice and perhaps one day even lose
your life for it. Think long before you choose, for your life will very well
depend on it. From what I hear, Lord Jhagreer would not mind if I took you in."

Indeed the chance of me losing my life would most likely make the priest
ecstatic on its own. So dismissing that notion from my mind I thought of the
only issue that really held sway for me.

"Will I become bored of it ma'am?" Lady Savarra looked me curiously. "That is,
up to now most things have come to me easily or at least with a bit of
practice. I soon lose interest as they no longer challenge me. If combat is
similar it would probably be best that I didn't put time into it."

"Child." the viscanti woman placed a hand upon my shoulder and for the first
and last time she grinned at me like a child who had received some candy. "You
will never become bored of combat, for you will never master it. There will
always be more things to learn, to master, to evolve. You will never be bored",
she repeated finally.

I only nodded at her, still uncertain, but I decided that self exploration
would be the only way to truly know.

So then the next few years were spent in intense training. The first year alone
devoted to the conditioning of my body. True at the age of eleven my body began
to grow rapidly, muscles forming where there were none before. Most of the days
were spent improving on those muscles while the evenings were spent learning
battle techniques, team strategies, and troop supervision, how to keep morale
up while keeping them disciplined.

The captain herself took care of most of the training, leaving me to others
only when she was called away on business. Despite our initial introduction,
the rest of the troops did not care for me much. It was a chance for them to
push around a viscanti for a change. However I did not whine and struggle like
they had wanted. I was accustomed to senseless brutality and my uncaring
attitude took the fun out of their bullying. Soon they came to accept me as
nothing more than a small nuisance, despite the fact they could not ignore the
rate of my progress.

Progress indeed, within the first year I already seemed a different being
entirely. I was soon able to wield twin scimitars with much ease; I never did
grow to like shields much. As I had originally thought, every technique
targeted a certain area of the body. Lady Savarra drilled these wounding
techniques into me daily, leaving the memory of them onto my body... literally.
It was the best way to learn she claimed. Although she refrained from causing
too much damage those lessons were the most difficult with my life constantly
in danger.

After the first year passed I was allowed to join in the training of the
regular troops. At first I was nothing more than a moving target for the rest
of the guards. My experience was greatly lacking in comparison. But slowly I
began to make out habits within all my opponents, and while the others used
their spare time to relax and take part in recreation, I planned my methods of
attack for the following day.

Either way I did not really get along with the other troops. Despite the fact
many were many decades my senior they rarely engaged in any serious discussion.
Lady Savarra must have picked up on this for she often discussed certain issues
with me, at times posing odd questions that seemed simple and straight forward.

"If in the midst of battle, a mortally wounded ally calls to you. Upon
diagnosing his wounds you realize he will die despite any course of action you
take. Would you then stay with the beast, providing final moments of comfort
for it? Try anyways to provide medical support? Or take the soldier's life,
ending its suffering?" - a common example of her occasional questions.

I shrugged casually. "If the beast is to die anyways I would leave it and
continue with the battle. Taking the time to comfort it or kill it is
unnecessary and takes my attention away from the battle, which would be
dangerous. If he was a true soldier he himself would know that and understand."
The captain rarely responded to my answers, however, I suspected that meant she
agreed with them. True there was no compassion in my methods as I further began
to understand, compassion and combat did not match, and therefore I had no need
to fake emotions for anyone.

The years went by and the scars on my body built up. Like the priest before
them, the captain often had us whipped to grow accustomed to pain and torture.
While the other troops complained it was all but normal to me. Soon enough I
began to gain on my fellow troops. Although I was far from as efficient as any
of them, I started to force my opponents to work harder for a win. No longer
could they toy with me, less they wish to lose a limb or worse.

Soon the day of my sixteenth birthday approached and the captain called me into
her private quarters. "Ma'am! You wished to see me?" I saluted, the habit had
formed and I doubted I would be able to remove it.

She waved at me to be at ease and called me to her desk. "In a few days Marex
you shall be of age. I've spoken of with Lord Jhagreer and it seems your mother
wishes for you to return home at that time."

Neither of us spoke for a moment. Lady Nariah had often returned to speak with
the priest those past years, but she never once came to see me. I often
wondered at the reason, and knew it would be one of the first things I asked of
her.

"Listen to me child. All these years here you have been alone. You know nothing
of suffering and pain as both are normal to you. While you know how to react in
society you do not know how to truly enjoy life." She paused as she planned how
to continue.

"Despite my efforts, I've failed to give you anything further than something to
do. Of course, whatever you pursue you will become grand at it. So there is
little chance you will ever be satisfied with your life". I unintentionally
frowned at this.

I had begun to see the limits combat would take me to. As the captain had said
there were endless combinations and techniques for one to learn and master,
however, in the end there was little reason if there was no opponent worthy
enough to battle, and for every battle there must be reason for bloodshed.
Honour and duty, although I had grown to respect both greatly, still bore
little interest to me.

What I lacked most, and what I most likely always would lack, is purpose.
Combat would never supply with that, however, I was still greatly appreciative
to the captain and planned to continue at the Ur'guard Guild she recommended to
me.

"There is probably only one person out there who can properly answer your
questions. Having been raised here as well, she clearly had the same problems
as you. However, unlike you she dismissed them and dove into religion as both a
way to prove herself and a way to keep her mind from these troubling questions.
Although I spoke with her scarcely she has the same look in her eyes that I see
in you Marex. Truly the only one who can share your thoughts is your mother
Nariah."

The captain smiled at me, I did not know how long she knew who my mother was
but that did not matter. She had given me all she could and for that I would
someday return the favour.

The last few days went by quickly and soon I found myself leaving for
Magnagora. Stone-faced and unemotional I thought of what stories my mother must
have had for me. Who my father was and if I had any other family. Mostly I
looked eagerly for purpose... and for the first time in my life, I prayed to
the Gods that I would find it.