[More than a year later I've come to add more to the story]
Seven had always heard great things about his family growing up. War heroes, generation after generation fighting and dying, but his most recent forebears fought for something truly greater than themselves; the unification of the clans. Their sacrifice is what landed Seven in the Orphanage of High Revburgh, having perished in service to the High King's clan. Thus his future was full of possibilities and one such had come to visit on the twelfth anniversary of his birth, an old weathered soldier who had known his mother and father.
"You're twelve now, Sven, it's time you start looking towards the future." The man, (whose name escaped Seven) said trying to convince him to follow in the footsteps of his parents. Seven glanced out the window into the now frosted forest. "Do I have to?" he pleaded, sounding very much like the child he was. "I mean," the man hesitated, "there are also the academies." Seven perked up a bit at the mention of the schools, he had been provided basic education as a ward of the state, but he was still interested in what he could learn out in the world, not in a classroom. "Must I decide now?" he probed. The man was clearly disappointed by Sven's lack of enthusiasm. "You've got some time yet, but I think you should consider The Vaeringjar Guard. They would take you in and you could make an honest living for yourself." Making one last attempt to sway the boy. "Or get yourself killed," thought Seven, more tactfully assuring the man he would consider it, and before long Seven was alone once more.