Archidas Rennard takes great pride in the magical prodigies that his house produces. Though a minor house without meaningful political power, it was common knowledge that a Rennard probably has a better trick than whoever they choose to fight. The patriarch himself was a renowned mage in his youth, infamous for his bloodthirst, arrogance and disrespect towards his opponents. Imagine the shock, anger and disappointment when it was revealed that the eldest son of Archidas Rennard didn’t have an ounce of magic in his veins.


Such was the life story of Valyian Rennard. From his birth, he was primed to be a mage that would surpass his father and succeed in everything Archidas failed. Daily combat training sessions, long arduous readings of gigantic spell tomes and lessons making him into a nobleman were all that the young boy knew. He was watched with keen eyes for any trace of his father’s potent magic, but he never showed any, towards the dismay of many relatives. Valyian’s standing only fell further when his younger brother Salazar started showing magical potential from a very young age.


Born only a year apart, the sibling rivalry only grew in intensity as they aged. Salazar’s innate magic manifested in erratic and uncontrollable ways, but the pale and sickly boy seemed to revel in it. What he could not stab with a sword, he could roast with fire. Valyian, resentful and bitter about his failings, instead focused on the physical side of combat, training his body in and mind to be the perfect warrior. He scoffed on the concept of honour and instead seized whatever opportunity he had to gain the upper hand. He did everything to please his father, to not to lose to the arrogant child that was his brother.


Valyian had spent his childhood honing his martial skills, and naturally, he joined the army as soon as he was able to. For once in his life, he didn’t have to strive to be the best. Here, he was just a tiny cog in a machine that runs efficiently and without fault. The young man had started to settle in his new life when his father sent word that Salazar had been named heir to the estate and future head of house Rennard.


Enraged and betrayed, Valyian returned home with murderous intent. Awaiting in the dining room, sitting and sipping tea like nothing had happened, were his father and brother. For all the hate and anger he felt, Valyian could only utter one word, ‘Why?’ The elder Rennard gestured to the smirking Salazar and said ‘Magic’. Before he even noticed what he was doing, he drew his sword from his belt and drove it through his father’s heart. The act stunned everyone into silence. The guards, the maids, Salazar, even Valyian himself, who was now shaking with fear and guilt. He could do nothing but watch in silence as his younger brother ordered the guards to seize him.


It was but a moment in which he lost control. But that moment completely altered the course of his life. His father and idol, dead by his hands. The brat Salazar, sitting as head of the house. And Valyian… he was just a power hungry madman who killed his own kin. Salazar, in a final act of mercy, banished his older brother from their home and Vel Anir altogether, and ordered that Valyian’s name be stricken from every record, his existence erased.


And so Valyian wandered. Wandered to places where his family name didn’t mean anything. To places where people would see his boyish smile and assume he was a good man. Yet Valyian was fleeting, never settling in one place, never feeling like he belonged. Feelings of shame, guilt and anger always caught up to him, always haunted his dreams, to the point where he just wanted everything to end. But he kept going. Out of guilt, or fear, or anger, or hate, he did not know, and he did not care. All he knew was that he had to survive. And that his life wasn’t meant to end like this.