Millient was born in the year 1658, in the town Ruriksgrad. Growing up he was an enthused, happy child. But also quiet and reserved. But what stood out the most about him as his passion for words and poetry. Starting as early as when he could write sentences he’d experiment with different words and phrases and generally wrote what was on his mind. This evolved as he got older into a full hobby of poetry. He spent all his free time writing and documenting poems. Though sometimes he found himself in town square admiring the Ashwood Tree. It was a sure spectacle and he admired it. He personally felt the world, at least through from his point of view, lacked literature and didn’t quite understand how words could be used to express such thoughts and expression. Millient’s mother stumbled upon a few of his poems in his room when he was out and about. She was rather impressed. She knew her teenage son enjoyed writing due to how much ink he often went through, but she didn’t know to the extent. She took it upon herself to share them among a few family friends, to Millient’s disapproval at the time, of course. But in retrospect, he realized it evolved into the first real feedback and critiques he ever received, which only motivated him to him to improve. Skipping to age thirty, Millient realized he didn’t quite wish to stay in Ruriksgrad any longer, and took to traveling across Atlas.
