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He opened his eyes into a new world; a cruel one. His eyes searched a sweaty, cramped bedroom. His eyes saw blood. The sacrifice his mother gave for her final child. The baby whose birth seemed meaningless into this cruel farmhouse now looked up into the glazed eyes of his dead mother, and he began to wail. It’s amazing how these wailings of a newborn infant compare so eerily close to the wails of a man pleading for life.

As Gideon grew from an infant into a young boy, he quickly came to the grim realization that the little innocent dreams and hopes of his inner child were false. The horrible words that constantly flew along with spit from his father’s angry mouth, the stench of alcohol clinging to every crude furnishing in the filthy shack he called home, and the beatings fueled by a deep rage Gideon was forced to experience almost every night showed to him that his life had only one, dark, cruel meaning.

His father enforced this meaning every day of the darkened child’s life. Gideon was to be the son that not only fought in the Arena of Fire, but claimed the victory; the title of the Semper. Because his father saw Gideon's potential from an early age, the quest to become the Semper became Gideon’s meaning, and on each day of his grim life since he could hold a wooden sparring sword, he was taught to fight. Cruel beatings were sent to him every time he made the slightest mistake, leading Gideon to look upon his bastard of a father with pure hate while he practiced.

Gideon’s Grandfather was the only source of reason to these training sessions. Although cruel like his son, the grandfather was a previous prisoner of war who participated in the arena, and actually taught young Gideon many lessons that would help him greatly in the years to come. He didn’t last long into Gideon’s life, however, and died of old age when his grandson was only 8 years of age.

These sessions continued every day, and gradually Gideon’s father began having his son use a crude iron blade to practice his tactics with. Gideon continued to spend his life hacking away at the pig carcass his father had him use as a target, getting better and better, perfecting the tactics that became one with his thoughts, harnessing all of his intuitiveness and problem-solving mind into what was his life; the duel.

When Gideon reached the age of 16, something happened that would change him forever. Gideon’s father had just arrived home from a late night drinking, and had stumbled around to Gideon, sleeping on the floor with a measly sheet with holes as a blanket. Gideon awakened to spit flying in his face,

“You killed your mother you little bastard!” A bear-bottle shattered on Gideon’s forehead, warm blood pooled on his face, and he felt a fist slam against his cheek. He took the beating for a few minutes. He was used to it after all. But it got more and more violent. Blood dripped from him. He was too old for this. He was too powerful for this. His dad was a bastard. He could taste the blood. Father should taste the blood too. Gideon now stood up, slowly, and stared at his father with pure hate. He clenched his fist, and then punched his father straight in the forehead, knocking him over onto the ground cursing. He then bent down, picking up the sword beside where he slept, and muttered, “And now this little bastard just killed you,” Before plunging the sword into his heart. Gideon watched his father writhe on the ground, the hate fading away, and his eyes widening. He stared until his dad went motionless, then kneeled down and cried. What had he done? Gideon thought about plunging the sword through himself that night, but he shook his head. He had a meaning in life, as stupid as it was. He would be the Semper.

Gideon spent the next year training by himself still, more determined than ever, until he was 17 and old enough to enter the arena. He succeeded easily there, volunteering for the Duel ladder, and defeating the first several opponents quickly with his advanced, agile movements combined with his ability to plan out his movements long before the battle began. The crowd started to love him, and began growing as Gideon climbed the ladder. The opponents became more difficult, but he always out-maneuvered them, finding a way to end their lives. He enjoyed the thrill of the fight, and almost got an entertaining burst of joy whenever he watched the enemy wailing for mercy underneath him. It’s amazing how these wailings of a man pleading for life are so eerily close to the wails of a newborn infant as Gideon once was.

After half a year in the arena, the previous Semper now laid beneath Gideon’s sword. The crowd roared, and Gideon felt the warm surge of blood coming to his fingers. It was just like the blood of all the men he killed, Like the blood that trickled from his face after every beating from his father, like the blood that covered him at his birth.

“I…” He hesitated a moment as he looked down at the pleading man, nuzzling his broadsword against the enemy’s neck. The thrill of the fight surging into him as he looked up at the crowd, feeling for once that he was important. “I...” He looked down at the man, the crowd’s yells and cheering raising adrenaline in his blood. “I have won.” He plunged the sword through the man’s throat, and pulled it out, holding it up in the air. He looked around at the swirling crowd. It was his time. He grinned, and then roared, “CALL ME SEMPER!”

And thus Gideon became the champion of the arena. He now earned the dark ability to command any Mesalian in Antaquia to succumb to his will (See Antaquia Lore). This time of his life had a great effect on the Semper's personality. No longer was he fighting to become the best. No, he -was- the best, and he could do whatever came to his mind. All the people he forced to join the arena, all the men he killed after requesting them to duel him on the streets, and even the women he commanded to undress for him... it wasn't what he wanted. He needed compassion, but all he thought he needed was the fight. And so he fought on.

‘Semper’ took care of any challengers to his new role efficiently, until, at the end of the year, he came across a challenger he would never forget. They called him Cassius, and they said he was a humble warrior who had worked his way up the ladder.

Semper faced up Cassius, staring across to him over the lava pit that was the center of the arena. His amber eyes searched the brown pupils that stared back at him. He saw hatred. It reminded him of his thoughts the night he killed his father. He shuddered for a moment, and looked up at the crowd. When he looked back, Cassius was gone. Gideon whirled around, just in time to lean back barely enough to only receive a small scratch on his face from the broadsword that swung at him. He staggered towards the lava, and then ducked under another blow and behind the man, readying his sword.

The battle that followed was a memorable one. A duel that had it’s place in the history of The Arena of Fire. A man of humble beginnings, working his way up against the dark, mysterious new Semper. Nonetheless, the battle came to a stop with the Semper holding a blade to the chest of Cassius, the other blade knocked aside. The crowd both roared and booed alike, as Cassius spit up into Gideon’s face,

“You’re the filthy bastard that killed him Gideon.”

The Semper narrowed his eyes at the man, curiousity growing but feeling blood surging to his fingers. “I killed a lot of people… and you’re my next fella.” He grinned, twisting the blade slightly upon Cassius’ neck, leaving a small cut.

“Go ahead. Enjoy it you bastard. I bet you like it. Just how you liked shoving that sword through my father.” He spat into Gideon’s face again.

These words hit the scarred Semper like a wall of bricks. He remembered the feeling of his father’s death, even if he caused it. He looked down at the man; suddenly the blood no longer surged in him despite the crowd’s roars to finish him. The guilt flooded him; the deep feelings of regret plagued him. Cassius’ eyes furrowed at Gideon as a tear dropped from the Semper onto the face of the man facing death.

“I’m..I..” The scarred champion couldn’t bring himself to an apology, so instead sent a hard kick to Cassius’ head, knocking him unconscious. He raised his sword silently after a moment, waiting for the crowd’s roar. There was none. “Blood to the defeated!” Was the only words he heard from now silent crowd. Then, a chant began.

“Blood! Blood! Blood!” Gideon’s head swirled. He couldn’t bring himself to kill this man. He looked around, keeping himself from crying, then roared,

“BLOOD?!” He slowly moved the tip of his blade down to the bottom of Cassius’ shirt, lifting it up to reveal a bare chest with many scars. “HERE IS YOUR BLOOD!” He traced a S in the man’s chest, leaving a wound just deep enough to leave a scar. The crowd roared. “PROPERTY OF SEMPER!” He called to the roaring crowd, then walked off out of the arena floor, letting out a few tears he could no longer hold back.

A year after the battle, the Civil War that had been occurring all this time outside of Gideon’s town of Antaquia finally broken into the city. With this, came Semper’s banishment from the arena and it’s destruction. Gideon no longer had a meaning to live. As sad as it was, the fight was the only thing Gideon was good for. All he could do was look for another arena like the one of fire as he fought his way out of the captured town and into the rest of the mainland.

His journeys for search of this place brought him to the Forbidden Lands, where he heard Xitians were able to show themselves in peace. He hoped that he could find some willing to build him his glorious arena again, wherever they may be. He wanted to have purpose again.

He was finally brought to a group of Xitians that had a structure for him. Deep in a ruined city that people had called ‘the city of Ravenna’ a simple deal was made. The Semper would serve the Xitians, doing whatever they wanted, in exchange for this Arena, and the providing of its participants.

Gideon's dueling abilities weren't much help to the Xitians he was now a part of, and so a member of the group was forced to give the Semper a crash course in brick laying. Although he didn't learn much based on the little amount of interest he showed in it, Gideon did learn a few basic skills in masonry.