Nietus, a Boy from Darkness

I met an interesting boy today, and he is an Illgatean, if it can be believed. Nietus is his name. Illgateans seem to lose their surnames or never claim one in the first place. I once thought that made them lesser, their broken names, broken homes, broken lives, but I wonder if in the rubble there is strength waiting. It may be a type of strength only the broken can hold. If any in my bloodline ever touched such strength, it was long ago, yet it might be the type I’ve searched for. A will to survive at any cost, that’s what I see in this boy.

He’s but a teen, yet his eyes scream decades. He’s blind, even. A boy like him born in a land like Illgate is destined to die or destined to live at the boots of better men, yet he stared those blind eyes straight through me as if they could see all.

I’ve brought him with us on our return. I watched him maim four of my guards for nothing more than a day’s provisions, yet I’ve taken him. There was nothing to take him from. No mother, the boy says, and a father he long ago killed himself. I cannot tell if he is rabid or simply ravenous. If he hungers how I think he does, then he will be a great tool in our hands. His challenge before was survival. What challenge may we give him now in the name of Burima? Anything, those blind eyes tell me. Feed him a challenge, and it shall be eaten.

Vladof Burima — New Calendar Year 796