A man who was a mercenary for a cult and turned to a knight. A woman who enjoyed dancing for a crowd. They met and it was love at first sight… or more like, love at first waltz. Together, they had a child. They named him Arkos.

Arkos’s childhood was quite nice. He attended a nice magic school, thanks to his father’s connections in the military, made good friends and had a happy family with a father who retired from the knights in order to raise his son with the company of her lovely wife. While Arkos’s father was strict in the way of the sword and magic, that didn’t stop him of showing him frequently how much he loved his little soldier. He was tough, but doting. Arkos also acquired a taste for dancing from his mom, who taught him some ballroom dances, like waltz, and some folk dances, the same dances she would show as travelling dancer. He was, indeed, happy.

However, tragedy ensued. Arkos’s father once worked as a mercenary with a cult, called the Church of Loptous, a shadowy, slithery organization who sought to attain godhood by reviving divine beings and such nonsense. He was there because of his affinity to dark-elemental magic and good money, but his inner voice told him to bail, since he knew something was quite amiss. Their rituals, the tasks he had to deal with… He left without a word. He was immediately branded a traitor. The years past and he was found by these people… in his own house, along with his wife and son. He was clearly outnumbered by the hired swordsmen and dark priests surrounding him… He had to do what’s best for his family. He yelled to his kid and wife to run, that he would hold them down. He was skilled in a fight… but not even him could stand a chance against more than 20 soldiers, ready to kill. A scream of pain was heard… and a fire started to appear in the house.

The mother didn’t hesitate and, with her child, went to the study room. There, a hidden passage was open for them to escape… or rather… it was for Arkos. The mother took a sheathed sword, that belong to his… now late husband and told the child to run and never look back. He had to go hide to her aunt’s place, her husband’s sister. Tell her what has transpired. She would do the same… protect Arkos from any harm.

And so… the child, crying and holding that heavy broadsword, escaped into the secret passage. He heard the door closing… and the sound of many swords carving flesh was heard. But Arkos didn’t looked back. He made a promise to his mom. Now, outside the area… Arkos ran, just to hear an explosion. It was the house, engulfed in flames. To this day, Arkos still remembers it. The heat, the color of the fire… the scream of his father… and the silent slaughter of his mother.

Luckily, he arrived at his aunt’s house, where he would hide for the time being, but… it was dangerous. He knew that. So… he had to leave that house. On a letter, he thanked his dear aunt for everything and apologized for the inconveniences… And also… he had to discard his name and hide the fact he was a half elf, so he wouldn’t be found. He left Minstrel and travelled with his father’s sword, until he reached Fiore, working as a mercenary, just like his father, using many false names and backstories, especially since he had to learn that being a half elf mercenary wasn't very well seen, since elfs wouldn't trust an impure being and humans would think he's too good for anything because of being part elf.

On that kingdom, he decided to settle, but… where, exactly? Maybe a guild could be nice, but… Arkos worked alone for a long time… Could being in a guild be such a nice idea? That’s when he found the guild Blue Pegasus, known for its powerful concept of beauty. He didn’t know if they would accept him as he was in the moment. But… he had to settle. And he had to go with a new name. Permanent, this time. When he registered, he gave it. In honor of a folk tale his father would always tell him. Ezekiel Nordion. Or… just Zeke.