Long ago, before the appearance of the Five Gods, there was a great betrayal. A betrayal of love, a betrayal of loyalty...one so perverse in nature it had the power to alter the lineage of all who came after.
Neofytos was a pewter smith when the First War began, comfortable in Estoria with his trade -- talented even...but lonely. He had apprenticed here at a young age, leaving his family far behind in Mytos...and it happened that his toil left him friendless and inexperienced with the fairer sex.
That changed with Niki.
The two fell in love instantly and couldn't be separated both physically and emotionally. Neofytos had cast a special ring in the shape of a figure 8, the symbol mathematical philosophers used for infinity. When they were together, one would slip their finger in the bottom loop, while the other nestled on top.
But one day the Gygan cyclopes sacked Estoria, stealing Niki and other Estorians away to a foul cavern in the Greater Steppes. Forces were bravely mobilized to rescue, among them the mighty shield-man Serafeim...
Serafeim returned months later wearing the ring...Niki returned with child.
Rage and confusion assailed Neofytos, boiling over into vengeful wrath. In his most desperate and lowly hour, a Gygan spy in the form of a siamese cat visited the smith, gifting him a magical chisel. Just one tap on Serafeim's shield, the trickster claimed, and the Gygan's club would sunder the man leading Estoria's defenses.
So it was Neofytos had his vengeance, at the cost of Estoria falling to the cyclopian horde. He lost his life without ever seeing Niki again. But Lutheria watched this play out with disdain. The titan cursed the soul of Neofytos and his lineage, to 'always remain ignorant of love, but experienced of betrayal'.
The babe survived, and unknown to the pewter smith, was his own blood...now branded with the mark of the curse: a chisel on the breast pointing to the heart. Wise women retold the story from time to time...and learned to fear the mark.
Over the years the line of Neofytos endured through lust, one bastard and one lustful mistake after the next. Never a child of love.
