About past, present, and future.(For a chronicle of Kjiri's life up until the current threads please see: The Life and Times of Kjiri)

Kjiri comes from a long line of water mystics, so there was no doubt what study he would choose. Though growing up, the only thing he truly wanted was to become a fierce and legendary warrior as so many other children and adolescents hope for. So long as his family had anything to do with it, his life would be spent as far away from the battlefields as possible, safe in the halls of study but the yearning for glory never left the young Kjiri. Even if he couldn’t fight, the young lad was determined to find his fortune on the bloody frontline. His parents were very pleased, then, when they found that he had a knack for using his water magic for healing and mending, hoping he had given up his dream to pursue the life of a kind of mystic physician. This, however, was not Kjiri’s designs for his talents. He used his parents support to help excel in his studies, with his sole, but hidden, purpose of going to war.

The young boy grew into a man and the battlefield was his mistress. Unbeknownst to his family, Kjiri had secretly been practicing swordsmanship whenever he could steal the time. Upon completion of his mystic and healing arts training, Kjiri, the promising mystic physician to be, joined a traveling group of mercenaries. What followed he looks back on in both shame and gratitude. First, shame because of all the horrible things he was forced to do in the service of comrade and coin. It seems that running off to join a group of brigands is not a noble calling after all. No one could ever quite get him to ever speak of what skeletons he hides in the closet from this period of life. Second, gratitude because it forced him to come face-to-face with the worst of both humanity and himself. It taught him a quicker, dirtier kind of magic than he learned in the scholastic halls of study that was his upbringing. You lived by what you memorized, and made due with whatever ingredients you could find. There was no shopping, or picking, or even time.

Ultimately the life of scoundrel was not one he found fulfilling and as youthful folly faded, Kjiri, now in his early 30s, turned to politics and allegiances as the way to find glory. Leaving behind a tumultuous 20s, Kjiri sought to use his training and experience for political gain becoming a well sought after field medic. Even though he positioned himself well in the military, he was always felt like he was running from his past. Too ashamed to go home, and too guilty from his life choices, he threw himself into dangerous situations; so much so, in fact, his company always thought he had a death wish. And that might have been the case had he not found love. He was betrothed to a minor nobles daughter. His dashing, yet reckless, acts of heroism in the line of duty, namely saving fallen comrades from certain death, gave him both the glory and the honor he hungered for. They were wed and even had a child, whom he loved more than life itself, but tragedy would strike, in what he now says is the price he paid for his foolish youth.

While he was out at war, a group of brigands robbed and murdered both his wife and children as they were on their way out to visit relatives. Both the tragedy and irony were not lost of the weathered soldier. Instead of vowing vengeance on the murders, Kjiri was many things but he couldn’t bring himself to be a hypocrite. At 45, he resigned from the military and retired with honors but with a deeply felt sense of shame. Too scared to go home, and too afraid of what life would do to him next.
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