Niko was raised by vengeance. It kept him fed when there was nothing to eat. It was his air when the world choked him. It was his dream when nothing else kept him alive.

He was nine when the fires of war reached his village, and his parents hurried to toss him into the hands of their priest. He saw the black pillars rising over burning fields while an old horse pulled the cart with the rest of the village children.

“We’d be right behind you.” - his parents said.

But the smoke kept rising, and the road remained empty. They stopped at a refugee camp outside a city as the horse gave its final breath to save them. It was full, home to all those who lost theirs in the war. Niko knew every tent and fire in it, for he scoured it day after day, looking for his mother and father.

“Where’s Ava?” - he asked when he went back to the priest’s cart one night.

Ava was one of the girls thrown in the priest’s cart, just like he was. But Ava was never found. A lone girl in a refugee camp was easy to lose. The priest insisted that the kids didn’t leave the cart any more so he could keep an eye on them.

“Niko, I think I found your parents!” - the priest came running one day.

The refugee camp had grown and was now stretching deeper into the woods. Niko and the priest walked deep into the forest until there were no tents in sight, looking for his mother and father.

“Where are they?” - Niko asked.

But his question was stifled by a bony hand that gripped him by the throat. The priest shoved him to the ground, shoved his face in the mud, and tore his clothes. Niko quickly understood that it was his turn to get lost in camp, just like Ava did. He tasted the soil, and the priest tasted him.

The only person he trusted held his head in the shallow muddy waters of the bog until he stopped fighting.

By a miracle, chance, or Morana’s humor, Niko lived. And he was fuelled by vengeance. He grew up with a cold heart and distrust towards the world. Years later, he sought out the priest and found justice for his actions. He joined a band of mercenaries and found his vengeance by slaughtering the imperial soldiers who made his parents give him into the priest’s hands.

But once the killing was done, the sense of peace he so longed for still eluded him.

Nightmares continued, accompanied by the screams of his victims, who still lived when he slept. For now, the sins of his torturers lived with him. He never let them go, and they had become his companions forever. And just before Niko fell on his sword, he realized forgiveness is better than vengeance.

For vengeance will keep you alive, but forgiveness will let you live.