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Nameless


There was a time when the one known as Nameless had a name. He used to go by the name Trisdan, oldest son and heir to the lands owned by an ancient and well respected family, the Sythinands. He was raised in comfort and riches, growing to become the spitting image of class and nobility. He trained in pathfinder, tracking and hunting from the head Pathfinder of the families garrison. He learnt the art of swordplay from his father, Garrod Sythinand, a master swordsman. His mother died giving birth to his only sibling, his sister Illisia. Trisdan loved his sister with great pride, devoting himself to protecting her.

One summers day when Illisia was 8 and Trisdan was 17, Trisdan had gone out hunting with two friends.The trio spent the day wandering through hills and forest, attempting to find any sign of game, only to find everything oddly quiet, as if something had driven off all the wildlife. As they continued to search, they moved ever further from the family keep, and night crept upon them. As darkness fell over the land and the three had finally decided to head back, a shadowy figure sprang from the forest taking down one of Trisdan's friends. The creature moved with blinding speed and quickly made short work of Trisdan's other companion. Now alone, sword unsheathed and ready, Trisdan held his ground and prepared to defend himself. The thing then charged and Trisdan struck out with deadly composure, only to strike air and have the wind knocked out of him as the attacker struck him with a solid blow. A surge of pain ran through his neck and then darkness consumed his vision.

Trisdan awoke hours later, his head spun and he felt a chill run through his flesh. Looking around he saw the bodies of his friends, bloody and still. Crawling over to the closest one, Trisdan checked for any sign of life, only to discover none and a deep sorrow build for their deaths. Looking at his hands, he wept at the sight of his now dead friend's blood covering his hands. Then, despite all moral objection, he brought his finger to his lips and licked the blood form it. All feeling of mourning and sadness dissappeared with the taste of blood and the only thought in his mind was "I want more . . ."

For weeks after, Trisdan travelled the vast lands of his family adepting to his new hunger with animalistic vigor and instinct. Moving only during moonlight, he fed off peasents whenever he would come across civilization in any form, be it town or small farm. After nearly a month, Trisdan came within sight of his former home. A crude smile came to his lips as he thought of the meals he would make of the servants and soldiers. But that smile quickly vanished as his eyes rested on his sister standing out atop the balcony that jutted out from what had been his room.Trisdan stared at her, standing perfectly still in the shadow of some trees. He could see her face, its sadness and worry as she searched the forests and roads. The humanity he had forgotten returned in moments, and the realization of what he had become sickened him. He hated what he was and the hunger he felt. He decided then and there to leave this land, his home and family. He could not bare for Illisia to see him like this, nor endanger her with what he was and what he might do. So without another glance, he turned into the shadows and left, never to see by his family again.
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