I have always perceived myself as a good man, even a righteous man. I try my best in everything and yes like anyone else I can, and I do make mistakes. Isn't that the goal though to treat others how you would want to be treated? Who knows? Let me tell you my own story so anyone that tells it after me cannot muddle it up and tell it through their own perspective lens.

My name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle but everyone knows me as Tom Riddle. I was named after my father who in turn was named after his father and to make a long thing short let us just say this naming tradition goes back around seven or eight generations.

It was a cold winter's night when I was brought into the world and my father was absent for the first eight years of my life due to him being at battle.

The downpour of snow started when my mother held me in her arms for the first time and there was a slight warm breeze that filled the ice cold shed that contained myself and the few people that were there.

I guess at the end of it what matters is, I was brought into the world and raised by a strong family of warriors and the history on both sides of my parent's traces back hundreds of years.

My father's family, Riddle's, are ferocious and cutthroat ruthless in battle. They do not take prisoners and they surely do not take things lightly.

My mother Merope's family, the Gaunt's are held in monumentally high regards which contain the history and lingering legacy of Marvolo Gaunt who was a leading commander of our country's army.

With both of these histories and infusion of blood of the warriors that course through my veins I suppose it would not surprise you that at the age of fourteen I was then sent to train under the command of my father which is just the family expectations that I the only son he has would follow his footsteps and when I am ready to then it would be expected for me to go and fight in battle and when I have enough experience and blood under my belt then take over my father's command and allow him the chance and luxury to step down and not have to risk an almost certain death every time he is out there after all it is a numbers game and sooner or later your numbers are up.

Let us jump right into it now.

I was sent to battle at sixteen and I was there for five months. We were sent to try and take over and overthrow the ruling king at the township of Voidcreek. I will never forget the first scenes I encountered. The sky was enveloped in what seemed like everlasting darkness and there were no sounds other than the sounds of the waves that rocked our ship slightly off course various times on our long voyage. We kept our ship anchored well out of sight as we wanted this attack to be a complete surprise to the opposition. The ship was a good two kilometres away, so we had to be stealthy as we moved about in order not to be caught and ruin our whole mission that took months of planning.

To the front of me was the commanding officer called Remus Alabaster and he was maybe thirty years old and had been in many battles since he was fifteen and like myself, he was following in his father steps in the hopes that his father will get more time and it allowed him the chance and luxury to retire and spend time with his family.

To the left of me were two brothers and I cannot recall their names now as I had not spoken to them much due to the fact, they mostly kept to themselves and voluntarily jumped at the chance to join in this battle to avenge the deaths or their father and eldest brother who died in the previous battle with the same opposition. The one thing I do remember is their striking blue eyes and dirty brown hair and the sense that there is a tornado of emotions brewing up but being tamed by the hands of a strict master behind those eyes.

To the right and behind me was a father and son duo who both went simply by the moniker "Voldemort."

Shrouded in the perpetual cloak of night, the thick air was heavy with anticipation and the distant glimmer of the overhead stars provided the only illumination. The ethereal glow of an otherworldly radiance made its presence felt. Its own shadow disturbed and absorbed the little that may have had a chance to shine a light into the blackened expanse that could very well soon be our own encroaching abyss.

Before the clashing of steel that would sound out through the expansive darkness, I stood with those previously mentioned on the precipice of eerie stillness being guided by the glimmer of stars and silent hopes of overwhelming victory.

Then it happened, the chaos of steel clashing with one another at a high velocity my own sword began to gleam with my inherited investitute and cutting through those that opposed me. The battlefield screams echoed like a symphony of death dancing with the grace of a veteran warrior.

The rising sun slowly passed the horizon and cast the long shadows across the battlefield.

Each step began to feel more like a calculated move that would send us into victory or demise.

In the isolated movements of precision were all but a blur between me and the enemy captain who were locked on each other with a singular hyper focus.

As the end was nearing, I had seen my moment, and I took it and with a single swift and fluid strike I killed the now disarmed and vulnerable captain. My adversary met his end with defiance as well as acceptance it was the moments leading to his end where I was caught between my duty and my moral compassion for another soldier who was drowning in the tide of war.

Acknowledging his own inevitable end, he looked at me and with a final rasp of a dying soul he said "Finish me."

As I disappeared further into the haze of war, I found myself battling with yet another captain but this time after I delivered many striking blows, and I had another given chance to put him into an eternal dirt sleep but after looking into his eyes I did not see a captain instead what I saw was myself as a killer and this time I met his gaze one last time and I left him and as it turned out he was an uncle to the father and son duo who went by "Voldemort".

It would turn out that Voldemort was a name used in their family in honour of their fallen great grandfather Voldemort who was one of the most feared warriors in history and the name served as a reminder to model yourself on his character so that one day when you are in the annals of history those reading the story would see that you were a courageous and fearless warrior who did what was right.

"You" he whispered in a sense of disbelief and gratitude.

"You are not just a mere warrior like your father or those around you. You are the one they prophesised about for years. You are "Lord Voldemort."

My eyes widened with disbelief and curiosity.

The captain threw down his sword and he proclaimed, "In the name of honour, mercy and gratitude I bestow upon you the title of Lord Voldemort."

"May you be forged in the crucible of battles and be ready to lead armies of magnificent capabilities to victory and may you be guided by the light that is good and true to tackle any challenges ahead and lastly may you give weight to the title bestowed upon you in the throes of battle."