MY REALM, MY HOME

Rito grew up in the Redwood, amidst trees and forest brush. He drank deeply from the rivers and played inside the canopy all throughout his youth. Lavished skies covered crimson leaves. His connection with nature was strong and his hope for the future simple. He aimed to make his family happy and create a connection with the greater realms beyond. It was a simple understanding that the boy had for his world, yet for many years it worked.

When it came time to seek out his passions, his future: Rito didn’t connect with any of the classes native to the redwoods. The ninja was too agile for his broad frame and held many weapons when Rito seemed to adore singular weapons. The swordsinger tickled his fancy but didn’t quite make him feel the power he desired as they specialized in one singular weapon, The Katana. The respectable monk was far too focused on the will of martial arts and Rito never could hold back temptations of his gut. Lastly, while he adored the weapons of the Infernal, he didn’t resonate with the large amount of armor they wore as he could barely wear clothes at all.  A slow conclusion came to him: He’d need to travel to find the future he was hoping for.

Rito packed up and kissed his mother’s cheek and bid her goodbye, she was his last remaining family. But there was no way he could let her down, he’d need honor and he’d return with it for her.  As he traveled, he stopped in every area to learn of their history, their lifestyles, and their choices of fighting. He saw the mages of the Prismacity and the Tidecallers of Seaport. But none resonated with him quite like the ancient civilization residing in Antiqua. They honored strength and valor. Arenas were built just for those old and new to show off their prowess and might. Rito finally at long last found home.

Rito considered being a Priest for a very brief period, learning all about faith and its many magical charms of holy magic. But after many months of fighting, he never could connect with a greater understanding. He just felt so small and instead of empowering him, it made him feel lost. It was at that point when his instructor introduced him to the Gladiators. It finally felt like he’d found his art.

He embraced power, strength, and heavy hitting. Now he could endure the pain he’d known his entire life and fight back with it. He struck up an axe and became a powerful member of his class. He took part in colosseum battles and sparred in all his free time. Before he knew better, he’d been away from home for many years.

With a great understanding of his power, he bid his many friends goodbye and returned home, packed to the nines with gifts for his mother and stories of old. However, when he returned home it was a heavy sight. His mother had become ill and was nearly dust when he arrived. He spent the last few months of her life taking great care of her and taking her to see the sunsets. He’d always been the son she needed but now who was he if not her son?

When she passed, he set her back to the trees and from whence they came: The earth. With that Rito set out to find himself all over again but instead of fighting, he aimed to find out who he was on the inside, who was that voice of reason? He’d figure it out.