You grew up in Chicago, the son of two ironworkers. Your life was fairly simple, largely consisting of studying, hanging out with friends, and practicing to become a metalworker like your parents. You loved working with the forge, seeing the metal come together to form something new, its true shape emerging from the heat.
By the time you turned fifteen you were extremely skilled, winning numerous sculpture competitions. However, something strange happened to you. As you were riding your bike home from school one day, you saw a strange man standing on a street corner, wearing a long brown cloak. Nothing of his face was visible save a lock of long blonde hair spilling out. He held out his hand for you to stop, and you did. He reached into the folds of his cloak, and took out a large misshapen gem. He spoke quietly, the sound of a smile in his voice.
“This will make your next sculpture more… interesting. Be warned, though, it’s a tad unpredictable.”
Before you could respond or even react, he pressed the green crystal into your hands. You looked down at the weight in your palms, and when you looked up, the mysterious man was gone.
When you got home, you got to work on your sculpture. You put the gem absentmindedly on the side of the forge, and left it there as you worked. At one point, you moved to grab a tool from the wall, and accidentally bumped the gem. It teetered briefly on the edge, and then plummeted into the molten metal. You cursed, and walked around to the back of the forge to find the release valve. Before you got there, though, you saw a bright green light come from the top of the open forge. A stream of metal slowly arose from the hole, looking disturbingly like a hand. The metal clamped down onto the rim, and a strange figure rose from the forge. It was humanoid, and made entirely of molten metal, save for the gem planted squarely in its chest. It hissed loudly, the metal cooling rapidly in the open air.
You took a half step back, shocked and confused by what you saw. The creature spilled over the edge of the forge, half-formed and disturbing. It reached out one deformed hand for you, moving towards your leg. You took another step and hit the wall behind you. Cornered. You had to stop it somehow. It was still blazingly hot and would burn you badly, and it was too large to jump over. You just had to cool it down somehow… make it cold enough to solidify. You concentrated, your mind taken up with the task of figuring out how the hell to make the place cold. And that was all it took. Just like that, the air temperature where you were dropped ten degrees. And where the creature was…
The solidified, shining metal was icy cold to the touch, and went on to win a major award.
Zahir took you to the school, and there you learned the ways of a knight. You’ve been there almost a year, but still have no Oaths. You’ve been working on one, though. You hang out with Lock and Tide, and have a somewhat joking somewhat serious rivalry with Lock for Aurora’s affections.