Your family owned an inn out in a mountain village, and every day, you'd help around, folding sheets, greeting travellers, and making meals for their weary souls. One rainy night, you began to notice a young boy, around the age of 11, with stark white hair and an odd look in his eyes. He was by himself, which was strange. You had found yourself with some free time one evening, and decided to venture around the forests surrounding your home. Before long, you spotted the strange boy, halfway up a tree and reading a book you had never read before. Vergil turned his gaze down and simply said:

"Go away."