Prologue:
Life as a child in the state of Noxus is a hard land for any child to grow up in, having the name 'Ratis' did not quite help. At the simple age of ten did he already come to know the basic motto of the land, "Strength beats strength" and with that, he would start to seek it out with ire in any form he could muster. Initially, asking the parents, "Well, nothing much you can do at such an age. Just wait 'till you're older." the mother told him, "With enough training and practice, you'll never have to worry about anyone else ever again. Long as it is your hand with the weapon, never let another person hold their blade for you or next thing you know, it is in your back." Sound wisdom for a place such as this. Though, with time passing by all the more, Ratis started to become impatient, the name calling and teasing for a specific few were starting to show mental strain on the young lad. Slipping out of bed, he would confront his father about the verbal assailants, "Ho? Getting bullied are you?" the burning fire being kindled further with a bit of adjusting with the poker, "Simple, make it so that they cannot do anything to you without fear of harsh, curt retaliation, Ratis." A grin a man should not behold towards his child was shown, thus the beginnings of the Noxian culture were to be shown to him.
Leaving the fire for a moment, the broad man, darkly tanned with heavily calloused hands and just able to stand a head taller than most, would produce a pocket knife. The measly size of the blade in such a large hand seemed almost as if it was a blunt toy. Upon testing it with his own thumb, "Take it lad. Hide it here tomorrow." slipping half of it into the waistline of his son's trousers, "When they come, let'em get close. Real close and have a go at his eye." the blade was short enough to not actually puncture the brain unless the hilt was forced through the socket, a bit extra force would be needed, which a child would not be able to produce. The small bade had pits within it, each hand sharpened to be able to not just slide in for a stab but cause further internal damage as well. Being the military's blacksmith, lead to requests far, far worse than such a simple dagger. Though in the mind of Ratis, the weight of the blade was something akin to obtaining new strength, running off to bed. The next day would come faster than anyone but he, would have wanted.
The mother questioned his giddiness the next day, from sulking as he left to ready to have a go at the day like it was something to look forward to. Though throughout the day, the name calling started again. For everyone else, it was a day like any other, typical routines and usual timetables. For Ratis, the true excitement was to start after the school released them. Despite everything, he seemed fine and unable to be irritated by the constant name calling. 'When classes finish...the eye...I will make him pay!' came the resolve of the young one. He had come up with a plan, lead them away from general view and have away at them where instant help would be unattainable along with being left merely to his own decisions with regards to their fate. The antagonists, 'Gerivard Ulstrum' and 'Jules Mantle' were a shabby pair. The fact that the De Tere'nu family were associated with the military would provoke some to make the child come off as weak and disgrace the family name, other, more sensible folk would keep away from him as angering some of the higher-talented hands in the Noxian forgeries was not the best idea.
Coming to the end of the day, Ratis only brimmed with excitement. The only difference from the normal routine was that he seemed to be too jolly, which baited the duo into following him all the more. Upon reaching an alleyway, he would turn around, "So ratface, why have you been so happy today, eh?" Jules would call out to him, just as his father said, they closed the gap. The blade still hidden over by his shirt and kept in line by his waistline of his trousers would have kept it in perfect hiding for the entire day. The golden eyes, defiant towards the two, "Today, you're going to leave me alone!" he pointed a finger at them, leading to quite the bit of laughter ringing out. Though keeping his same expression, it seemed like as if he was being serious. Thus as Gerivard came to push him down and start hitting him, the hand flashed down to his right hip, the two inch blade held in a reverse grip, he would jump up onto Gerivard and as instructed, have a swift stab towards the eye. The deafening cry coming out started to attract attention, "What did you just do to him?!" came the voice of his friend, infuriated, Jules would soon come to know the pain Ratis had felt, in ways a young child should not be exposed to. Pulling the blade out lead to another scream of anguish as the punctured eye had even more torn off with the pits made available within the blade. Flailing his hand around as the weight of the situation caught on, he would cut the hands and arms, eventually diving unto Jules, blade first, it would sink in between the ribs and at worst, the diaphragm.
Quick to escape, he would clutch his bag, slip the knife in and escape leaving the two boys to their own fates.
After proudly telling his father about what he had done, the man took the knife, "Good, crush your enemies and inspire fear into them. Such, is the weight behind the phrase, blood, for Noxus." Eventually, the parents would show up at the door, demanding explanations as to what happened and why, a firm beating with a heated metal rod was the only reply that the respective families would get, "If yer children bother m'boy again. I doubt he'll show as much mercy as he did today." he'd spit at them, slamming the door shut and returning with a grin to his kid,
"Get stronger boy, you'll like it."