Rain was raised to be a weapon. Never question and order, never listen to the outside world's lies of our people and leaders. He worshiped the leaders, thy were the reason for his life. His purpose for even existing. He would kill for them, he would bleed for them, he would die for them.

Well... He woudld of died for them.

Growing up Rain was skilled. Top of his class in language arts, fastest knife work in his litter, and a deep unquestioning loyalty to his country and people. He had all the makings to be an excellent spy for the elders. And that's what he was. His first mission came earlier than the rest of his litter. He was sent to Praxton to get an opening with the shipping bay to send Yolan troops. You can't take over a government without people in positions of power and you can't have those people in positions of power without the people there. It was a success, he shook the right hands and kissed the right rings and was able to get one shipment of "yolan swords" into Praxton. That was the year that the Yolisian started their slow reach to overthrow Alverax once and for all.

With a rather large success under his belt Rain became the youngest Yolan warrior to receive a C4PR or Kilnt (racist Yolan term for someone born in Telenari.) The boy was part of the decor of his new home and he used him as he saw fit. Mostly practicing his knife work. Slicing into the older boy like trying to draw a work of art into his fine, smooth skin. On rough days he would return home and shove all his aggression into the smaller man, breaking him, bleeding him and leaving him to his pain without a second thought but little did he know that that boy was going to be the straw that breaks the camels back.

Yolan soldiers are not taught to read or write, just speak and do as your told. But after a few years of leaving his single minded life where is is told what to do and entering new countries where there were times he would have to think for himself, it got Rain thinking. He couldn't express these thoughts in words on paper but he did keep them to himself in a notebook he found once when he was younger. Drawing the images in his head down and keeping track of them like a diary. This became habit and it didn't go unnoticed by the Kilnt who would bring it up every time Rain "threw a fit." The boy spoke works that made Rain think, sometimes they made him stop thinking and act. Sometimes he would speak without thinking at all to the words when his mind was somewhere else. And that became habit. And that habit cost them both.