Daemon Ceray was born in the Meranesian Islands. Humans stood lower in status beneath the Mali'ker and his parents, Simon and Daella Ceray lived a humble life that life revolved around the sea and survival. He had no siblings and unlike families that held influence, his parents were nobodies. They were laborers who simply fished, collected sea shells and precious rocks on the beaches, and traded them to make a living. Their lives were quiet but it was always this safe place that Daemon treasured. Daemon had always been interested in boats and has watched fishermen, traders, and other sailors return back to the Meranesian Islands and eventually learned the basics on how to sail.
Suddenly, the fragile and simple life that he had was shattered in a single night. A mysterious figure broke into their house and searched through their belongings like he was desperate to find something. Scared, but desperate, his father fought the invader but there was a long struggle and only being 14 years old at the time, Daemon couldn't handle watching his father struggle and shuts his eyes closed. After what felt like an eternity to him, he opened them to see his parents on the floor and the shadowy figure running out of the house.
A few days later, with nothing left tying him to the islands, Daemon fled into a merchants ship under the cover of night carrying little of what he could fit in his bag, essential items for living such as food and water. Now far from the Meranesian Islands, he makes his way towards Rittersberg to find a new purpose, a new meaning in life, after losing the quiet life he once had.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
"Expecting..? why would someone be expecting me?" he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies the old woman. He slowly pulls out the chair and sits across from the old woman. "I'm from the Meranesian Islands... not that it matters much. Just a nobody from a small shore village." his gaze drifts to the series of candles in the air. "I didn't come here for some grand purpose," he continues, fidgeting with his fingers as he exhales. "I left home after an incident.. there's nothing left for me back there" he looks back up to the woman with a brief moment of silence "So I left. Been moving ever since, trying to find something that's worth holding onto." he shifts in his seat, straightening himself as if he was steadying himself. "As for what I want to make of myself... I don't know yet. Maybe someone who doesn't lose everything so easily."
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