He was born to a poor family, he lived a very rough childhood with all of the killings in the gutter but, one day, he had a shimmer of hope, a Royal Family was passing through his town and there was word that they were recruiting young children near the age of twelve. The boy was only nine at the time, but with all of the scratches and dirt on him, and his naturally large stature he thought he would be able to pass as twelve, and so he did. He spent eight years going through heavy, repetitive training, each day practicing the same thing over and over again, how to kill the monsters of the world without receiving heavy wounds, how to shoot the eye of a rogue five hundred feet away, and how to respect his superiors. Finally, he went to the graduation ceremony, he was given two shiny silver blades and medal of honor, however when he was receiving his silver blades the man giving them to him whispered to him "These blades aren't for defending superiors, they are for.... y'know..." He then took the blades and walked out back to the group, he waited for only ten others to receive their rewards, then he was shipped off to serve his superior, unknowing he would soon be sent off to the burning hells to fight the endless war between the human... and the undying.