Hunters
Non Affiliated with the Dark Witch, however, hired by her goons. Lesser than Generals in team of power.
Great Generals
Affiliated with the Dark Witch. Very Powerful.
3 Guests
viewing this page
GM
MenacingEffect Damaged Goods
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
From the moment he arrived, to now that the journey has been planned. He has always seemed accepting or knowing that someday they or at least he would set out on a journey. Something about his blue sapphire irises who looked past the barrier of Cosmos city without fear or curiosity, but determination as if he knew something was out there waiting for them. Handsome all though in the unusual sense, an oval shaped face and narrow rectangular eyes, they took in the world through an ocular observation not belonging to that of human. More akin to a predator or some ancient beast who sees the world beyond what it is on the surface. Long black hair, the color of raven feathers touches the tip of his tailbone and brushes across thin wings. That when extended reveal beautiful black wings, with wispy feathering tendrils like a bird of paradise.
Age: 16
Species: Old Fae - Sítheach is an old fairy, of the old forest, the ones before the great cities emerged. Well Sith himself is not that old. The Old Fae died out years ago, and the fact one is living in these times is a perplexing circumstance. No one knows what the old fae look like, ancient text describe fae as they are described now of different species and of different clans. Yet, Sith himself appears to be of many species of fairy. Perhaps, the origin of Fae alike. Though none of them would accept him for the way he looks. To the fairies and pixies he’s too large. To humans they mistake him as a demon. To boggarts he’s not woody enough. Down the chain goes and no one is sure what to do with such an ancient species. They even ask to themselves how one even manage to crop up in these times. They are a starter species, not one meant to exist alongside the ones it started. It has many question why he even exist. Sith would like the answer to those questions as well.
Notable features of Sith’s type of old fea is that he has wings, as all fae have wings. Except that these wings don’t let him fly. He can hover off the ground a good 96”, or 8ft. And he can suspend himself for a good upwards of 15 minutes before getting tired or having to flap his wings to maintain holding. He can also glide, not fly, but glide. You’ll never see Sith flap his wings very often, maybe to kick himself off the ground to remain hovering, or to loosen up the muscles in his wings.
The horns of ram, the ears of a deer. Sith is sort of odd to look at. Beside his hair is a mixture of fur like textures wrapped around feathers. Part of Sith’s upper body is deep plumage of feathers around his collarbone, upper torso, upper back, and shoulder blades. These feathers are of black with mixtures of forest green. Most of the sides of his body is covered in light, what appears to be almost like dog fur, on his arms, the sides of his body all the way down to his legs and feet, as well as covering his back. Whatever he is, is hard to discern for many. It’s very often you’ll hear him being called a demon, though that not being the case.
While he may have hands and feet like an ordinary human, with light fur touching the top of his hands and black palms underneath. His clawed toes and feet are nothing, but ordinary human. Neither are the thin wings on his back that are folded into his back usually. When they extend they have beautiful hair like tendrils at the end that give him a “holy” appearance or at least looks like an enlightened being.
His scent brings warmth and comfort to others as he smells of pine trees, evergreens, and spearmint. His aura is calm and peaceful, while he stand considerably tall at 5’8”, 172cms, however being an old fae he’s actually considerably light though not underweight at 110 pounds, 49kgs, he is lean and has some slight muscle definition. This also means that his wings can carry up to 110 pounds of weight with relative ease, which means they are quite strong.
His scent brings warmth and comfort to others as he smells of pine trees, evergreens, and spearmint. His aura is calm and peaceful, while he stand considerably tall at 5’8”, 172cms, however being an old fae he’s actually considerably light though not underweight at 110 pounds, 49kgs, he is lean and has some slight muscle definition. This also means that his wings can carry up to 110 pounds of weight with relative ease, which means they are quite strong.
Silvery words like honey, his tone is fruity, and pleasant, a deep honeyed sound that makes others around him relaxed. An easy going energy to his words, he doesn’t sound as harsh as his cluttered appearance looks. . While he chooses not to wear shirts over his shoulders, as shirts weren’t necessarily made for fuzzy feathery beings, he does wear a style of loose breeches, bunched at the ankles.
Personality Strengths:
Sith has never been a distracted individual, in fact he’s always been a determined individual who holds firm on the things he believes. No one can fault him for his determinable attitude, a damned attitude that will ram straight through brick walls if it has to. Despite his forcefulness with certain circumstances and situations, Sith is a very calm and caring individual. It’s like he lives simply outside of his external appearance, he can have a healing personality and plants seeds, ideas in others heads.
He would not have been the one to suggest to leave the barrier, but be the one who planned the thought in someone’s else’s head. As if Sith didn’t need to plan, merely he knew what was going to happen. Sith’s not been known to be a planner, he does what he feels. He guides himself by something tugging and pulling him along. Grasping for something invisible an invisible answer he’s seeking.
Sith is not distant with others, he will laugh with them, though not a jokester himself he will humour those who like to jest, Sith is quite open and will always take the time to listen to others concerns. He’s not someone who likes to see others crying, so he will do what he can to cheer them up. He can sort of be described as scary to look at, to only reveal, a caring, ernest, honest person. Who will fiercely protect those he has promised to do so. Sith has never been known as someone who lies breaks his promises to those he cares for the most.
While he carries a small amount of curiosity, Sith will always be the one to point others to things that were not part of their destination. Annoying to some, yet sparks the intrigued and interest in the more adventurous types of the group. Sith seeks to find answers to secrets of this world. Perhaps on their way they can be the first to understand this world like nobody else has before.
Personality Flaws:
As his determination is a strength it can be a flaws as well, as Sith hasn’t really been known as one to give up. Sometimes he wins by simple sheer will and mental bruteforce. Other times he cannot break the obstacle in his way and he’ll spent hours ruminating and brooding in defeat because Sith doesn’t like to consider alternative options as times. If someone speaks to him with reason, he might listen, though it’s a good idea to give him a good few minutes before suggesting an alternative.
He also isn’t known for being much a planner. While he is intelligent, he has never really sets up a plan. He usually goes with his instinct or his gut feeling. Moving purely on how he feels about a situation. He’ll listen to other people’s plans and he’s not the type to object to someone who may make more sense to him. However, if it’s left up to Sith he’ll drag people around on a whim, rather than an actual guided plan.
While on the surface Sith appears as carefree as well a fairy. Free spirited, laidback, open minded. Just like a fairy Sith can be scary and dark as well. There is a cruelty that hides in him, a cruel mischievous side that he is either good at hiding or that others just don’t necessarily see it as something inside of him. Sith can play cruel jokes on others, not the ones he cares for, though against those that oppose them Sith opts to toy with individuals than outright hurt them.
He opts for slow, torturous methods that change the perspective of his nature. Those who have known him in the orphanage can only close their eyes at the things Sith is not ashamed to do. This side of Sith seems to lack any of the regret, mercy, and kindness he often displays. It’s a haunted personality that makes others wonder about Sith’s stability. Though Sith would never turn on those he has bonded with.
Neutral:
Sith enjoys dipping his feet in cool, running water. Usually in a stream. He also likes to smell plants and herbs. He enjoys music, when it is playing, and will even join in on the fun if he is invited to do so. He likes the feeling of his hair being brushed and wishes he could reach his entire back with his arms, alas he cannot.
He dislikes anything discordantly loud, if it’s disruptive, he finds it rather unpleasant. He also doesn’t necessarily enjoy the thrills of less than appropriate hygiene. He prefers people to take care of their appearance.
Also upon hearing the tales of the Golden Brew and learning about Clementine’s past, he sought to learn how to make tea. His hobby now is finding leaves for different types of brews with different types of affects. Though he wouldn’t claim he’s an alchemist.
Skills:
Focal Crystal Tapping
Sith possess a unique skill, in that he can tap into more resources with his focal crystal. It is how he is able to use his focal crystal as a grip for the bow the way he does, he can also tap into the focal crystal to track other focal crystal around him. He is somehow able to understand the focal crystal better than anyone. He says it is a matter of talking with the stone, though no one truly believes that could be true. Talking to their crystal. Everybody tried it after the conversation.
Tracking
Since Sith is more of a hunter than he is a warrior, he knows how to track the invisible movements of prey or not. Able to pick up track marks and be able to associate them appropriately with their owner, be it animal, or be it a man with large shoes Sith is usually pretty accurate when it comes to picking out his prey, tracking it’s trajectory and laying down a perfectly good ambush.
Hunting
While Sith’s personality towards his enemies is particularly cruel, it is the methods of a hunter. Not of a warrior with swift methods of dealing justice. In order to not expend energy a hunter tires and leads his prey to their doom. Forcing them to expend all their energy, so when the final blow is struck, the individual cannot or does not have the strength to fight back.
Identifying Objects and Things of Interest
Sith is particularly knowing in things, he can identify objects that others may not be able to identify, as well as have base knowledge of flora and fauna, though he’s not necessarily an expert. Identifying is simply base knowledge that means he knows what it is, he doesn’t have the mastery or expertise to tell you everything about something. He also seems to know points of interest fairly well, and can identify good places to camp, or good places to rest, and identify danger by simply feeling what is around him. Sith is highly perceptive in this field. However, he has known of the expertise to discern him as a singular point of knowledge.
Focal Crystal: Hugr von das Altwidus [Memory/Soul of the Old Forest] - The Hugr sleeps in a dark purple, illuminating nothing and shielding itself from anyone believing such a dull stone would hold any magic inside of it. A sleeping demon, it’s dark lustrous color, intrigues others, as it doesn’t gleam or glitter, but remains a stormy, matte purple. When its user brings it alive, ancient ruins crawl onto the crystal, and it gleams like a purple storm. Inlaid into its grooves, and crevices, is the name of the Hugr scrawled on this fragmented memory of an old forest.
Special Equipment:
The Hunt is a powerful call, the hunt is what drives all manners of predators to the wild. It is the hunt that drives a hunter. It is the hunt the prey fears, it is what makes them cower. A symbol of the Old Forest, a symbol of the past, the hunt’s ring, around his wrist, carved as a bracelet from the vertebrate of an animal it is the name of this ring in ancient tongue said to give gifts to the hunter he wore it and earned it through the hunt.
Ability: The Hunt’s Ring tames all manners of the wild. When the user who wears this bracelet kills its prey, for 60 seconds its soul follows the individual as an ally, creating a spectral version of said beast, to aid in combat before it fades unto death.
Waldgeheimnisse, what if one could speak to the forest? What if someone held the secrets of the forest? As the Elves past through the forest, they close passages behind them, walls made of brush, leaves, and twigs, doorways that humans, and others with the lack of knowhow would see as doors. Though the forest creatures, old fae and new fae, all knew of these doors, it is how they pass the forest. It how they get around, it is how they navigate. Rings of wood, with cruxes of the forest, fragments, that speak thoughts to these earthly doorways.
Ability: The user who wears this ring can identify doorways hidden in brush and thickets. They can activate this ring to then open up these pathways. The forest of Aeflstan has always been unyielding to those who travel without realizing the forest is a pathway of doors and dead ends created by the elusive deep forest elves. Who use these rings to close paths and change paths behind them in order to keep strangers from discovering their cities.
Equipment: NA - Being half naked and furry doesn't give you much room to store items anywhere. Neither do pockets of your pants so Sith relies on others to have brought the necessary goods.
Weapons: See Magic Profile
Special Attack:
Faszinierendes Auge des Tieres - Mesmerizing Eye of the Beast
While many cannot tame the wild woods of this land, and well neither can Sith. Sith has something that other species do not. Not necessarily a special attack per say, but a special ability nonetheless. Sith can look into the eye of Any Lesser Animal and make them freeze from fear for at least 60 seconds before they regain their mental strength. This ability becomes less effective the more the creature is around Sith and his intimidating factor begins to wane. The more he tries this technique, the shorten the time the fear factor gets, to the point the ability doesn’t affect a creature. 60 seconds become 30 seconds becomes 15 seconds become 5 seconds to a creature getting use to his presence and learning to overcome their fear.
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: Roots and jagged edges, are complimented with beautiful glass replicas of meadowing flowers. The Royal Lily sits firm on top, while two Pink Star Drops sit at the bottom edge, it is wrapped in tendril like roots, with a red glowing stones. It is both light and dark. Fae and perhaps Deamon in origin. It feels woody, and earthy. Not leatherbound.
School of Focus: Conjuration
*Sustain - Hugr Bogen [Soul Bow]
Fragments of the old forest are said to carry the remnants of the weapons they once were. Bits of old focal crystal create a Hugr. The Hugr can be tapped for greater potential depending on the understanding and knowledge of its user, one that speaks to it. Sith can tap his Hugr to create a memory of a bow, something deep inside the Hugr, that creates the bending limbs of the bow and the drawstring. This is ability is sustained for as long as Sith has magic to sustain it. Once Sith is too exhausted of magic he can no longer create his bow. He uses his Focal Crystal, the Hugr, as the grip of the bow.
Arcane Arrow
The arrows that Sith create are not elemental arrows. Instead they are drawn entirely from the bowstring every time he draws it back. These arrows then descend, as he is often levitating when he is shooting his bow, creating a blast of primal magic that stings or pins enemies to the environment around them. The average range of these arrows is around 40ft. And they do affect his magic stamina.
Memories of a Book
How Sith carries his spellbook is by conjuring where it may need be. He can call it from a different plane, for it manifest itself, to then fade when he dismisses it.
Hugr an Eine Klinge
All weapons said to be forged by a smith, say that there is a life to a weapon. Well this is certainly the truth for some weapons. Some magic weapons Sith can create a copy of as a spectral blade that moves on its own without his command. This spectral blade, or spectral dagger, or spectral weapon, last up to 2 minutes. It can be dismissed by those with the know how to send the spectral weapon back to the Abyssal plane. The blade can move at least 10 ft away from its original summoner before simply fading if it and the summoner are too far apart to communicate
Misc Info: His Hugr requires charging in order to tap into its powers he is actually using the Focal powers energy to do so. And thus Crux Gems not only charge his Hugr, but is used to level up his magic.
Theme Song:
Battle Music
Age: 16
Species: Old Fae - Sítheach is an old fairy, of the old forest, the ones before the great cities emerged. Well Sith himself is not that old. The Old Fae died out years ago, and the fact one is living in these times is a perplexing circumstance. No one knows what the old fae look like, ancient text describe fae as they are described now of different species and of different clans. Yet, Sith himself appears to be of many species of fairy. Perhaps, the origin of Fae alike. Though none of them would accept him for the way he looks. To the fairies and pixies he’s too large. To humans they mistake him as a demon. To boggarts he’s not woody enough. Down the chain goes and no one is sure what to do with such an ancient species. They even ask to themselves how one even manage to crop up in these times. They are a starter species, not one meant to exist alongside the ones it started. It has many question why he even exist. Sith would like the answer to those questions as well.
Notable features of Sith’s type of old fea is that he has wings, as all fae have wings. Except that these wings don’t let him fly. He can hover off the ground a good 96”, or 8ft. And he can suspend himself for a good upwards of 15 minutes before getting tired or having to flap his wings to maintain holding. He can also glide, not fly, but glide. You’ll never see Sith flap his wings very often, maybe to kick himself off the ground to remain hovering, or to loosen up the muscles in his wings.
The horns of ram, the ears of a deer. Sith is sort of odd to look at. Beside his hair is a mixture of fur like textures wrapped around feathers. Part of Sith’s upper body is deep plumage of feathers around his collarbone, upper torso, upper back, and shoulder blades. These feathers are of black with mixtures of forest green. Most of the sides of his body is covered in light, what appears to be almost like dog fur, on his arms, the sides of his body all the way down to his legs and feet, as well as covering his back. Whatever he is, is hard to discern for many. It’s very often you’ll hear him being called a demon, though that not being the case.
While he may have hands and feet like an ordinary human, with light fur touching the top of his hands and black palms underneath. His clawed toes and feet are nothing, but ordinary human. Neither are the thin wings on his back that are folded into his back usually. When they extend they have beautiful hair like tendrils at the end that give him a “holy” appearance or at least looks like an enlightened being.
His scent brings warmth and comfort to others as he smells of pine trees, evergreens, and spearmint. His aura is calm and peaceful, while he stand considerably tall at 5’8”, 172cms, however being an old fae he’s actually considerably light though not underweight at 110 pounds, 49kgs, he is lean and has some slight muscle definition. This also means that his wings can carry up to 110 pounds of weight with relative ease, which means they are quite strong.
His scent brings warmth and comfort to others as he smells of pine trees, evergreens, and spearmint. His aura is calm and peaceful, while he stand considerably tall at 5’8”, 172cms, however being an old fae he’s actually considerably light though not underweight at 110 pounds, 49kgs, he is lean and has some slight muscle definition. This also means that his wings can carry up to 110 pounds of weight with relative ease, which means they are quite strong.
Silvery words like honey, his tone is fruity, and pleasant, a deep honeyed sound that makes others around him relaxed. An easy going energy to his words, he doesn’t sound as harsh as his cluttered appearance looks. . While he chooses not to wear shirts over his shoulders, as shirts weren’t necessarily made for fuzzy feathery beings, he does wear a style of loose breeches, bunched at the ankles.
Personality Strengths:
“Sometimes I believe there is something out there, looking for me. Seeing me. Something I cannot see, but I know it’s there I can feel it. Whatever it is,”
Sith has never been a distracted individual, in fact he’s always been a determined individual who holds firm on the things he believes. No one can fault him for his determinable attitude, a damned attitude that will ram straight through brick walls if it has to. Despite his forcefulness with certain circumstances and situations, Sith is a very calm and caring individual. It’s like he lives simply outside of his external appearance, he can have a healing personality and plants seeds, ideas in others heads.
He would not have been the one to suggest to leave the barrier, but be the one who planned the thought in someone’s else’s head. As if Sith didn’t need to plan, merely he knew what was going to happen. Sith’s not been known to be a planner, he does what he feels. He guides himself by something tugging and pulling him along. Grasping for something invisible an invisible answer he’s seeking.
Sith is not distant with others, he will laugh with them, though not a jokester himself he will humour those who like to jest, Sith is quite open and will always take the time to listen to others concerns. He’s not someone who likes to see others crying, so he will do what he can to cheer them up. He can sort of be described as scary to look at, to only reveal, a caring, ernest, honest person. Who will fiercely protect those he has promised to do so. Sith has never been known as someone who lies breaks his promises to those he cares for the most.
While he carries a small amount of curiosity, Sith will always be the one to point others to things that were not part of their destination. Annoying to some, yet sparks the intrigued and interest in the more adventurous types of the group. Sith seeks to find answers to secrets of this world. Perhaps on their way they can be the first to understand this world like nobody else has before.
Personality Flaws:
As his determination is a strength it can be a flaws as well, as Sith hasn’t really been known as one to give up. Sometimes he wins by simple sheer will and mental bruteforce. Other times he cannot break the obstacle in his way and he’ll spent hours ruminating and brooding in defeat because Sith doesn’t like to consider alternative options as times. If someone speaks to him with reason, he might listen, though it’s a good idea to give him a good few minutes before suggesting an alternative.
He also isn’t known for being much a planner. While he is intelligent, he has never really sets up a plan. He usually goes with his instinct or his gut feeling. Moving purely on how he feels about a situation. He’ll listen to other people’s plans and he’s not the type to object to someone who may make more sense to him. However, if it’s left up to Sith he’ll drag people around on a whim, rather than an actual guided plan.
While on the surface Sith appears as carefree as well a fairy. Free spirited, laidback, open minded. Just like a fairy Sith can be scary and dark as well. There is a cruelty that hides in him, a cruel mischievous side that he is either good at hiding or that others just don’t necessarily see it as something inside of him. Sith can play cruel jokes on others, not the ones he cares for, though against those that oppose them Sith opts to toy with individuals than outright hurt them.
He opts for slow, torturous methods that change the perspective of his nature. Those who have known him in the orphanage can only close their eyes at the things Sith is not ashamed to do. This side of Sith seems to lack any of the regret, mercy, and kindness he often displays. It’s a haunted personality that makes others wonder about Sith’s stability. Though Sith would never turn on those he has bonded with.
Neutral:
Sith enjoys dipping his feet in cool, running water. Usually in a stream. He also likes to smell plants and herbs. He enjoys music, when it is playing, and will even join in on the fun if he is invited to do so. He likes the feeling of his hair being brushed and wishes he could reach his entire back with his arms, alas he cannot.
He dislikes anything discordantly loud, if it’s disruptive, he finds it rather unpleasant. He also doesn’t necessarily enjoy the thrills of less than appropriate hygiene. He prefers people to take care of their appearance.
Also upon hearing the tales of the Golden Brew and learning about Clementine’s past, he sought to learn how to make tea. His hobby now is finding leaves for different types of brews with different types of affects. Though he wouldn’t claim he’s an alchemist.
Skills:
Focal Crystal Tapping
Sith possess a unique skill, in that he can tap into more resources with his focal crystal. It is how he is able to use his focal crystal as a grip for the bow the way he does, he can also tap into the focal crystal to track other focal crystal around him. He is somehow able to understand the focal crystal better than anyone. He says it is a matter of talking with the stone, though no one truly believes that could be true. Talking to their crystal. Everybody tried it after the conversation.
Tracking
Since Sith is more of a hunter than he is a warrior, he knows how to track the invisible movements of prey or not. Able to pick up track marks and be able to associate them appropriately with their owner, be it animal, or be it a man with large shoes Sith is usually pretty accurate when it comes to picking out his prey, tracking it’s trajectory and laying down a perfectly good ambush.
Hunting
While Sith’s personality towards his enemies is particularly cruel, it is the methods of a hunter. Not of a warrior with swift methods of dealing justice. In order to not expend energy a hunter tires and leads his prey to their doom. Forcing them to expend all their energy, so when the final blow is struck, the individual cannot or does not have the strength to fight back.
Identifying Objects and Things of Interest
Sith is particularly knowing in things, he can identify objects that others may not be able to identify, as well as have base knowledge of flora and fauna, though he’s not necessarily an expert. Identifying is simply base knowledge that means he knows what it is, he doesn’t have the mastery or expertise to tell you everything about something. He also seems to know points of interest fairly well, and can identify good places to camp, or good places to rest, and identify danger by simply feeling what is around him. Sith is highly perceptive in this field. However, he has known of the expertise to discern him as a singular point of knowledge.
Focal Crystal: Hugr von das Altwidus [Memory/Soul of the Old Forest] - The Hugr sleeps in a dark purple, illuminating nothing and shielding itself from anyone believing such a dull stone would hold any magic inside of it. A sleeping demon, it’s dark lustrous color, intrigues others, as it doesn’t gleam or glitter, but remains a stormy, matte purple. When its user brings it alive, ancient ruins crawl onto the crystal, and it gleams like a purple storm. Inlaid into its grooves, and crevices, is the name of the Hugr scrawled on this fragmented memory of an old forest.
Special Equipment:
The Hunt is a powerful call, the hunt is what drives all manners of predators to the wild. It is the hunt that drives a hunter. It is the hunt the prey fears, it is what makes them cower. A symbol of the Old Forest, a symbol of the past, the hunt’s ring, around his wrist, carved as a bracelet from the vertebrate of an animal it is the name of this ring in ancient tongue said to give gifts to the hunter he wore it and earned it through the hunt.
*Der Ring der Jagd/The Hunt's Ring
Ability: The Hunt’s Ring tames all manners of the wild. When the user who wears this bracelet kills its prey, for 60 seconds its soul follows the individual as an ally, creating a spectral version of said beast, to aid in combat before it fades unto death.
Waldgeheimnisse, what if one could speak to the forest? What if someone held the secrets of the forest? As the Elves past through the forest, they close passages behind them, walls made of brush, leaves, and twigs, doorways that humans, and others with the lack of knowhow would see as doors. Though the forest creatures, old fae and new fae, all knew of these doors, it is how they pass the forest. It how they get around, it is how they navigate. Rings of wood, with cruxes of the forest, fragments, that speak thoughts to these earthly doorways.
Ability: The user who wears this ring can identify doorways hidden in brush and thickets. They can activate this ring to then open up these pathways. The forest of Aeflstan has always been unyielding to those who travel without realizing the forest is a pathway of doors and dead ends created by the elusive deep forest elves. Who use these rings to close paths and change paths behind them in order to keep strangers from discovering their cities.
Equipment: NA - Being half naked and furry doesn't give you much room to store items anywhere. Neither do pockets of your pants so Sith relies on others to have brought the necessary goods.
Weapons: See Magic Profile
Special Attack:
Faszinierendes Auge des Tieres - Mesmerizing Eye of the Beast
While many cannot tame the wild woods of this land, and well neither can Sith. Sith has something that other species do not. Not necessarily a special attack per say, but a special ability nonetheless. Sith can look into the eye of Any Lesser Animal and make them freeze from fear for at least 60 seconds before they regain their mental strength. This ability becomes less effective the more the creature is around Sith and his intimidating factor begins to wane. The more he tries this technique, the shorten the time the fear factor gets, to the point the ability doesn’t affect a creature. 60 seconds become 30 seconds becomes 15 seconds become 5 seconds to a creature getting use to his presence and learning to overcome their fear.
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: Roots and jagged edges, are complimented with beautiful glass replicas of meadowing flowers. The Royal Lily sits firm on top, while two Pink Star Drops sit at the bottom edge, it is wrapped in tendril like roots, with a red glowing stones. It is both light and dark. Fae and perhaps Deamon in origin. It feels woody, and earthy. Not leatherbound.
School of Focus: Conjuration
*Sustain - Hugr Bogen [Soul Bow]
Fragments of the old forest are said to carry the remnants of the weapons they once were. Bits of old focal crystal create a Hugr. The Hugr can be tapped for greater potential depending on the understanding and knowledge of its user, one that speaks to it. Sith can tap his Hugr to create a memory of a bow, something deep inside the Hugr, that creates the bending limbs of the bow and the drawstring. This is ability is sustained for as long as Sith has magic to sustain it. Once Sith is too exhausted of magic he can no longer create his bow. He uses his Focal Crystal, the Hugr, as the grip of the bow.
Arcane Arrow
The arrows that Sith create are not elemental arrows. Instead they are drawn entirely from the bowstring every time he draws it back. These arrows then descend, as he is often levitating when he is shooting his bow, creating a blast of primal magic that stings or pins enemies to the environment around them. The average range of these arrows is around 40ft. And they do affect his magic stamina.
Memories of a Book
How Sith carries his spellbook is by conjuring where it may need be. He can call it from a different plane, for it manifest itself, to then fade when he dismisses it.
Hugr an Eine Klinge
All weapons said to be forged by a smith, say that there is a life to a weapon. Well this is certainly the truth for some weapons. Some magic weapons Sith can create a copy of as a spectral blade that moves on its own without his command. This spectral blade, or spectral dagger, or spectral weapon, last up to 2 minutes. It can be dismissed by those with the know how to send the spectral weapon back to the Abyssal plane. The blade can move at least 10 ft away from its original summoner before simply fading if it and the summoner are too far apart to communicate
Misc Info: His Hugr requires charging in order to tap into its powers he is actually using the Focal powers energy to do so. And thus Crux Gems not only charge his Hugr, but is used to level up his magic.
Some tales are so old they are diluted as they spread from ones lips to the next. And some tales are best forgotten. While some tales are scattered in pieces, like feathers in the wind. That doesn’t mean they aren’t meant to be tales told, merely because someone has forgotten them. It’s a matter of putting the pieces together, eventually they will reveal the truth to that individual. Sith’s memories are as scattered as the wings that extend on his back. Floating, feathering, somewhere, slowly creating ripples. Just because a story has been forgotten doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be told.
Blood like diamonds, hung in the air like they defied gravity. Ripping through the air. As feathers scattered through the wind. Falling. Falling. Crash! Crrrk! The barrier begins to shatter wide like glass. Continuing to fall before landing onto the earth. A crowd of people waking in the night due to the sound. The barrier singed his fur. He tried to stand up weakly. Blood pooling onto cobblestone. People whispered among themselves. No one seemed bothered to want to help. Some men in armor came brandishing weapons, pointing swords at him. Despite the dizzy vertigo beginning to make the city spin.
“State your intentions beast,” one spoke while words still meant something.
He opened his mouth, but all that came out was blackish blood. Some look horrified. Others scoffed.
“Just put it out of its misery,” one of the onlookers hissed, “It will only bring misfortune death. It’s what Deamons do.”
Sunlight. He wakes up to sunlight. There’s a wet towel on his forehead. His wounds seemed to have been bandaged. An older woman looks at him. It seems her hair is going gray. She smiles at him.
“Sssh, you were badly wounded,” she tells him.
“Who are you?” he ask.
“Gertrude Clementine, and you?” she ask.
He looks at the bedsheets, they are red, with golden embroidery. His head is throbbing. He can’t remember.
“It’s okay not to know, I am impressed you survived,” she told him, “You are not of any fae from this time. I would know because of the way you broke through the barrier. I’ll let you rest.”
Staring out the window watching the other children play. Gertrude walks into the room.
“Sítheach, aren’t you going to play with them?” she ask.
“I was thinking I have been here for a while, a few years, and how I got here,” he replies and smiles, “I still don’t remember a lot of details.”
“You don’t have to force yourself to remember,”
“My name is Sítheach,” he says watching the woman walking in.
“I’m impressed you remember your name,” she told him, “But you still don’t know how you got here.”
He shakes his head no.
“I was flying,” he tells her, “and then I came through the barrier. It stung.”
“Well things aren’t meant to come through like that,” the woman replied with a laugh, Gertrude gave him a look that made his inside squirms. She smiled at him with a warmth that he had never seen anyone give to him before. Or that’s what he felt.
“Thank you, I guess,” he mumbles nervously.
“Hurry up and recover the other children are dying to play with you,” Gertrude tells him tenderly.
Other children? There were others. Did they come here in the same way? He stared at her. She just smiled again at him. He closed his eyes.
“You know Gertrude done so much for us, I hope one day we can do something for her,” Sith says to the other children.
He supposed then, now that wish has come true. Perhaps out there. As they start their adventure he’ll have everything back together in his mind.
“State your intentions beast,” one spoke while words still meant something.
He opened his mouth, but all that came out was blackish blood. Some look horrified. Others scoffed.
“Just put it out of its misery,” one of the onlookers hissed, “It will only bring misfortune death. It’s what Deamons do.”
Who am I to you?” he ask.
“Oh my poor baby,” she says extending out her hand and placing her hands on his face, cupping his chin in the palm of her hands. Her nails long and black.
“Answer my question?!”
“It’s a gift,” she places something in his hands.
“Oh my poor baby,” she says extending out her hand and placing her hands on his face, cupping his chin in the palm of her hands. Her nails long and black.
“Answer my question?!”
“It’s a gift,” she places something in his hands.
Sunlight. He wakes up to sunlight. There’s a wet towel on his forehead. His wounds seemed to have been bandaged. An older woman looks at him. It seems her hair is going gray. She smiles at him.
“Sssh, you were badly wounded,” she tells him.
“Who are you?” he ask.
“Gertrude Clementine, and you?” she ask.
He looks at the bedsheets, they are red, with golden embroidery. His head is throbbing. He can’t remember.
“It’s okay not to know, I am impressed you survived,” she told him, “You are not of any fae from this time. I would know because of the way you broke through the barrier. I’ll let you rest.”
“Sítheach,” a beastial claw calls him over.
“I am here,”
“You are old enough, let me share you the secrets of our home,”
“I am here,”
“You are old enough, let me share you the secrets of our home,”
Staring out the window watching the other children play. Gertrude walks into the room.
“Sítheach, aren’t you going to play with them?” she ask.
“I was thinking I have been here for a while, a few years, and how I got here,” he replies and smiles, “I still don’t remember a lot of details.”
“You don’t have to force yourself to remember,”
“You see this throne,” she asked him, slowly stroking the wood with her hands delicately.
“Yes,” he replies.
“Someday it will be yours, but you have to become much stronger,” she says.
“How do I do that?”
“The answers will be for when you’re much older,”
“Yes,” he replies.
“Someday it will be yours, but you have to become much stronger,” she says.
“How do I do that?”
“The answers will be for when you’re much older,”
“My name is Sítheach,” he says watching the woman walking in.
“I’m impressed you remember your name,” she told him, “But you still don’t know how you got here.”
He shakes his head no.
“I was flying,” he tells her, “and then I came through the barrier. It stung.”
“Well things aren’t meant to come through like that,” the woman replied with a laugh, Gertrude gave him a look that made his inside squirms. She smiled at him with a warmth that he had never seen anyone give to him before. Or that’s what he felt.
“Thank you, I guess,” he mumbles nervously.
“Hurry up and recover the other children are dying to play with you,” Gertrude tells him tenderly.
Other children? There were others. Did they come here in the same way? He stared at her. She just smiled again at him. He closed his eyes.
“Oh, did you think you could escape?” he ask stepping on someone’s leg, the other has seemed to be missing. Blood pouring onto stone.
“I beg for your mercy,” they stammered, a man, balding, scraggly hair, holding onto an ancient sword.
“Mmmm, haheeheheheahah,” he feels laughter coming from him, “I don’t think so. I think I am going to take back what’s ours, and then take your fingers till you learn not to steal.”
The man raises his focal crystal. It begins to glow. He grabs onto the man hand’s holding the Focal Crystal.
“I beg for your mercy,” they stammered, a man, balding, scraggly hair, holding onto an ancient sword.
“Mmmm, haheeheheheahah,” he feels laughter coming from him, “I don’t think so. I think I am going to take back what’s ours, and then take your fingers till you learn not to steal.”
The man raises his focal crystal. It begins to glow. He grabs onto the man hand’s holding the Focal Crystal.
“You know Gertrude done so much for us, I hope one day we can do something for her,” Sith says to the other children.
He supposed then, now that wish has come true. Perhaps out there. As they start their adventure he’ll have everything back together in his mind.
Theme Song:
Battle Music
1x Like
LemonZest1337 Fresh and Zesty
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Age: 10
Species: Dhampir: Dhampirs work a little differently than a normal vampire. First off is their ability to withstand sunlight, though it still burns their skin terribly and hurts to stand in for long periods of time, it won't ultimately lead to their demise on its own. But their skin isn't the only thing sensitive to light, their eyes are also sensitive to light, this is both a perk and a hindrance. In the light they find it much harder to see, while in darkness they can see much better. Though their ideal environment is one of low light. Dhampir are also susceptible to any form of celestial magics, and are unable to be healed using celestial magic instead getting hurt by it.
Dhampirs also have very weak empath abilities, getting very weak signals from people when they are in a state of intense emotion. They receive the signals like a faint static, or a fuzzy feeling. The different emotions only have very small differences in the signals they send, making this an ability that can't be used well without a good deal of training. Dhampirs also get slight physical enhancements being a little stronger than normal humans, but these enhancements are hardly noticeable on an untrained body. A Dhampir who's never worked in his life isn't going to be beating any form of laborer in an arm wrestling competition. Lastly comes a Dhampirs slightly enhance healing ability, making them recover from wounds almost ten times as fast as a human, while this healing isn't going to help them in the midst of combat it will make them able bodied and ready to fight again much faster than others.
Description: Archibald Insists on wearing simpler cheap clothes, not getting the whole deal with fancy clothes. Although he's a Dhampir his appearance is on the human side lacking any actual hint of being half vampire. He is a rather small boy for his ages, only being 133.6cms tall and weighs about 20 kilograms. Any trinkets he carries are either on his belt or in his backpack.
Strengths - Archibald is a playful kid, always goofing around with friends and family, though he dose understand that sometimes things need to be taken seriously. He is also very respectful towards older people making sure to behave when around adults. He'll also listen to his elder sibling almost without question. Being around other people is one of the things Archibald love, being a highly social kid. This is also where his love for helping others comes from, because helping others makes them like you, while sometimes even letting you spend time with them, so it's honestly a win win in Archibald's eyes, though some may take advantage of this quality. Archibald is a firm believer that sharing is caring, and Archibald cares a lot about those around him, even total strangers sometimes receive charity from Archibald. He's the kind of boy who would give you a loaf of bread if you were hungry, even if he himself was starving.
Flaws - Archibald isn't the bravest child, in fact startling him is almost too easy most of the time, a simple tap on the shoulder can get him when he's not expecting it. But he's not only jumpy, also being easy to intimidate. Someone who's a foot taller than him could intimidate him if they tried, let alone terrifying monsters of the forest. Archibald is incredibly Naive, he sees the good in everyone and everything, sometimes completely missing obvious bad things or tricks. Offering help to anyone who may need it, sometimes ending in him possibly helping bad people do bad things, not figuring out what's going on until it's too late. Archibald has a tendency to get sidetracked or distracted, sometimes it's by something small like a fly buzzing around him or perhaps a bird off in the distance. Archibald is also kind of. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, his probably not going to be the one figuring out a puzzle in a dungeon.
Neutral - Archibald doesn't really have a hobby, mostly because he can't really sit in one place long enough to find one. Though a good way to stop Archibald moving is to place an animal on his lap, Archibald could sit around for hours simply patting a cat or a dog, or any animal for that matter. There are few things that give Archibald the same sense of wonder or amazement that Animals do. Even magical creatures aren't safe from Archibald's love, though the more scary aggressive ones are avoided for obvious reasons. Another way to get Archibald to sit still is with the delicious promise of food, for a small boy Archibald can eat a huge amount. And Family dinners are the reason he lives and breathes, loving the experience hanging out with his family while also stuffing his face with yummy food. Though he's not a critic when it comes to food, eating just about anything you put in front of him.
Piggy back rides. Doesn't matter if he's receiving one of giving one, piggy back rides never fail to make Archibald smile. Archibald loves throwing his hands into the air as someone runs around with him on their shoulders. And if there is one thing Archibald dreads aside from losing loved ones. It's the day when he gets too big for piggy back rides.
Skills: Archibald has the uncanny ability to start fires. He's mastered the art of raising and maintaining a flame. It could be a campfire or it could be a fireplace, either way he can make the fire just right. But don't expect him to cook or anything, he struggles not burning things. Though Archibald can't do the spinny stick thing, he normally starts his fires using Bang and Spark.
Archibald is also surprisingly good at climbing, though he can't compete with animals he's still pretty darn quick for a kid.
Focal Crystal: Archibald's focal crystal is a half and half crystal, the top half being a vibrant orange and the bottom half being light gray stone. He holds it like a candle when he uses it. Archibald always keeps his Focal crystal on his belt.
Special Equipment: Archibald has a pair of enchanted flint stones called Bang and Spark, now on their own they are nothing special. But when used together they can create small balls of fire, perfect for starting campfires or lighting torches.
Equipment: Archibald doesn't carry many personal item, though he always makes sure to have a spare hoodie and bandanna on him, in case he needs to go outside. He always wears his trusty backpack, it's tough as nails and has clearly gone through many years of love as is clear when looking at it's rather weathered form.
Weapon: He has a boomerang. And using it properly is one of the most impressive thing he can do. It's not enchanted or anything, so if the boomerang doesn't come back then he has to go and retrieve it. Though it is mostly used as a club, or being thrown to trip up a fleeing target.
Special Attack: Bite. Archy has a nasty bite, and if he feels inclined to use it against you, get ready for a deceptively powerful set of teeth powered rather strong jaw. This put together make a bite from Archy a particularly nasty thing, though it's mostly ineffective against armoured creatures like giant Arthropods or crustaceans.
Magic Lv:5
Spellbook: Archibald's spellbook isn't super fancy. It's simple and gets the job done, this is a feature that is fairly common with Archibald in general. It's a well made leather journal, it's sturdy and has taken a lot of loving at this point, how it still remains in one piece is a mystery (Even to Archibald). Archibald keeps it stashed in his bag at all times.
School of Focus: Archibald focus is on water magic. splash
Lesser spells
Tap: The spell tap is very simple, it makes a slow jet of water much like a kitchen sink would. The water can come from any exposed area on the hand, be it just one finger or the entire palm of your hand. It's not intended to be used as a direct attack. It finds much more use in survival situations, like filling a water bottle or a cooking pot. What makes this spell unique is that the water it produces doesn't magically evaporate like most other water based spells, as it's purpose is to provide water.
Water bomb: This spell has a little bit of umph compared to Tap, though it is still very weak. It's just a simple water ball projectile, but water to the face can be mighty annoying for most creatures. It' can be rapidly fired if needed. It's main use is as an annoyance but given the right target it can be very useful.
Bucket:This spell a weak form of hydrokinesis that allows you to control a buckets worth of water. Archy requires a water sauce to pulls from in order to use this spell, so Bucket and Tap make a great great combination.
Intermediate spells
Tendril: Tendril is used to summon tentacle like appendages made of water. They are mainly used to restrain enemies holding them down like watery chains, though they can also strike targets with a considerable amount of force. Though they don't have to be used in combat situations and a creative enough mind could find many different uses.
Misc Battle Info: Archibald isn't much of a combatant normally preferring to be more of an annoyance. This isn't to say he can't damage opponents, he's just not much of a up close fighter and lacks a strong form of ranged attack at the moment.
Arrival:
Some things in this world are never meant to be, frowned upon by society and shunned into the shadows and left there to rot. Archibald is one of those things. Born into a family that was not meant to be, in a place where he'd never be accepted.Archibald's parents were not meant to be together, at least that's how society sees it so they were forced into hiding their relationship from the rest of the world. Viola Nicodemus was Archibald's mother, and she had fallen in love with a Vampire. But this wasn't the usual case where a Vampire would lure a woman in and prey on her. The love was mutual between the pair. Arcadis Valkyr was the Vampire who'd be bewitched by Archibald's mother, and he was beautiful, even by vampire standards.
They kept their relationship concealed for half a year, till Viola fell with child. The result of their forbidden romance now visible to everyone. In only a week Viola had become incredibly anxious, worried that everyone would somehow find out about her and Arcadis and that not only her life, but that of her child was at risk. Months drifted by as she continued to worry. And no matter what her beloved said she would continue to do so, the child was not even born yet and she worried for its life, it was tearing her apart. But the thought of finally bringing this child into the world was the thing that kept her going.
Then the time finally came to bring the child into the world finally drew upon Viola, she had to make the journey out of town so she could be with her beloved at the moment of their child's birth. The trip was arduous, pushing the pregnant woman far more than was healthy. But meeting up with Arcadis was more than worth the effort. Their meeting should have been something of unimaginable joy, but when Viola got to the meeting place and found Arcadis with a somber look on his face. Her heart sank.
The news he brought threw all of their plans into turmoil, it seemed that Vampires were just as against their partnership as humans were and they now hunted Arcadis for his actions. This presented his parents with a choice. It was either they dragged their child around the land with them as they ran from Vampires and humans alike, or find a safe home for their child. Although the choice broke their hearts, they knew they couldn't drag their child into their situation. The couple only needed to think for a moment before Viola remembered hearing about the charitable Gertrude and the many children she'd given homes. While Viola didn't know Gertrude personally, the tales of her charity had traveled around. And it seemed that if anyone was going to accept their little Archy. It would be Gertrude.
After cherishing the one moment they would ever have as a family, Viola would leave Arcadis so she could quietly creep to Gertrude's mansion. The trip was even more arduous than when she was carrying the babe in her stomach, each step bringing her closer to the time where she'd never see her child again. When she finally made it to the door of the mansion she was in tears. Her hands trembled as she lowered her child onto the doorstep of Gertrude's mansion, her little Archibald was going to be happy here, she felt it. After saying her final goodbye she vanished off into the night, leaving Archibald to be found crying on Gertrude's doorstep.
Theme Song:
Akayaofthemoon
Member
Seen
10 hrs ago
Age
16
Species
Half Celestial - One of many different types of non-human beings who share the godlike/holy characteristics of being more powerful, longer-lived, and, in general, much happier than humans. They tend to live peaceful lives, never staying in one spot long as they love to wander and fight of dark souls that come along their paths to protect others. They grant wishes and miracles to those that are in need though they are rarely seen. Those that have seen Celestials describe them as soft and calming, giving a sense of peace even in the darkest of times to those that are near. Their smell changing to suit each person's senses and always seeming to draw the light to them. They can have up to six wings in total, three pairs each, but each extra set it earned with time and the wings are almost always the palest of colors with accented tips. The most common being white with golden tips.
Description
The sounds of a rippling stream echoed through a silent forest. The night air bringing a slight chill from the gentle summer breeze which carried with it the pleasant smell of pine. The shadows danced in the light of the moon as the trees shifted in the wind, fireflies twinkling their own luminescence to chase away any fear of the darkness along the narrow path. The dried needles on the forest floor crunched under each step forward with no destination in hand but the hope for a clearing to appear along the way. As if your prayers had been heard, the illumination of pure moonlight showed ahead which were the telltale signs of an opening in the vast amount of trees that made up this forest. A rush of excitement flooded your being and your pace quickens from the relaxed one that you had been content with earlier. You need only to rush through the bushes to reach the steam but you are stopped, stunned by the beautiful glittering waters in the moon's glow though it seemed more focused unusually in one spot. Yielding to your curiosity, you followed the natural brush along the river's edge until you spotted a young woman standing in water. A sudden feeling that you should not be here is what crawls into your gut but you can't seem to pull yourself away. It is then that you make your choice, ducking down into the bushes, being sure not to be caught. You hide and watch, as she performs a moonlit ritual under the stars.
Platinum blonde hair, like threads of gold spun from a spinning wheel, dipped into the water and creating strands of swirling gold against the clear crystal water. A splash of color stood out against the pale of her hair in the form of turquoise feathers flaring out on each side of her head just like a stylish head dressing. As she held her crystal to the moonlight you continued your gaze upon the delicate softness to her face which gave a feeling of friendliness and serenity. The porcelain ivory of her skin against the platinum blonde hair made it seem like she had a divine glow about her that was comparable to the moonlight itself. It was only now when her eyes began to flutter open that you had even noticed they had been closed in the first place and your breath caught in your throat at the sight. The eyes were a dazzling sky blue that would remind anyone of the sunniest days and they sparkled with such joy, it was mesmerizing. You find yourself standing, walking past the bushes and toward this young woman. You want to be closer, hear her voice, and let her light heal what ails you. You find yourself nearing the water's edge when you stop, shaking your head and debate moving back to your spot. Was it really right to startle her? You find yourself standing by the shoreline, debating on just leaving now while you still have your dignity but instead you stay where you are just a few moments longer as this petite young woman no taller then 5'7 waded through the water, the flowing black wings tipped with turquoise at her hips gliding over the water.
Suddenly, your eyes meet and shock reflected in her eyes for only a moment before they softened and looked you over for a single moment. You feel frozen and curse yourself for continuing such a shameful act all due to curiosity and that feeling of desperately wishing to meet this person in front of you. Her gaze moved along the shoreline, not even a defensive pose showing in her form but certainly, she must be wondering what you were doing and if you are even alone. Those soft doe eyes moved back to you, locked on your form as she made her way to shore and you think for a split moment that you could run into the darkness of the forest and forget this night. Why did you feel the need to stay? It didn't matter, it was too late as she was stepping out of the water and not even bothering to wring anything out as she stepped in front of you. The smell of lavender and vanilla invading your senses which caused you to think it was slightly unfitting for her in your opinion. You thought she would have the scent of rain in the air or fresh cut roses but it was not that disappointing to realize it was something else. It was still pleasant after all. It was in that moment that the smell of lavender and vanilla faded, the comforting smell of rain and roses taking its place which calmed the nerves that were on edge about meeting this young woman and the fact that you had even been caught.
"Are you lost?" a soft and warm voice like melting honey spoke. It was so sweet and smooth that you could easily listen for hours if given a choice. Those sky blue eyes looked to you, concern etched on her features as she waited patiently for an answer. Your words would not come and you find yourself shaking your head 'no'. She looked confused now as if asking with no words, 'why are you here'? It was hard to even start to explain but instead, she graced you with a smile and held out her hand. "If you are alone, please join us for the evening. It will be safer than camping here." You want to reach out, take the offer that was being given but there was no way to tell if the others in her group were as agreeable as she was. You give another shake of your head before giving a small bow to show respect for the young woman that would remain unnamed and continued on your way and this time drawing your blade, taking heed of her warning.
Strengths
She is calm in the face of adversity. When presented keeps calm and focuses on the issue. If she feels threatened or upset, she does not let it show even in her body language and tries to get a solution to the problem though she can be stubborn if she thinks her way will be better. Usually, she will hold in her problems or issues to herself and has trouble leaning on others or showing her upset as she does not want them to worry.
Astraea has deep emotions for those close to her and wants to make sure they are cared for. She takes the time to listen and will always help if possible. She cares about those around her even if she doesn’t know them and will give advice or offer assistance if the situations calls for it. She worries and fusses, which can sometimes be seen as negative but it means she cares and loves you.
She is extremely protective. Many see her as quiet and soft but if you ever harm those she is loyal to and care for then you will see a much harder side. She will defend others even at the cost of it meaning pain for her. She has a mothering nature to her which makes her defensive when she feels those she loves are being threatened or in danger.
She is kind to all she meets and is of a positive personality. She is the kind of person that makes you feel welcome and warm in her presence. She is sympathetic with the pain of others and shows the kindness they need in times of hardship. She will not fault those that lash out at her and fights are quickly compromised. She make sure that communication is key. A peacekeeper when times are hard.
She has an abundance of patience and will help guide you to the answers but lets you figure things out in your own time. She can stand many things that might be annoying or unpleasant for far longer than most so if she speaks up, it means many would have given up long before this point and you should listen.
Astraea cannot stand when other people only think of themselves or act like bullies. It makes her feel frustrated that the one person's selfish actions affect everyone but they don’t care. It is all about them and she just can’t see why anyone would do this. She also does not appreciate unnecessary physical cruelty when diplomacy could stop the violence. You do not have to be hateful. There are better ways of doing things.
Flaws
Though she is kind and caring, Astraea is actually a very guarded when it comes to herself. She is not open to pasting out information about what she is feeling and hides her pain as to not worry others or inconvenience them. She puts up walls, which makes it hard to be completely close.
She can be far too trusting of others. She believes very much that you are innocent till proven guilty. She is not ignorant of the evils that the world holds but she hopes for the goodness in others. They may seem dark but maybe some good is till in there that can grow if just given the chance. This cannot always be possible and causes trouble.
She is a sensitive soul and does not actually care for much violence. She feels pain when others when they are sad or upset. This makes it sometimes hard to hunt or fight. She does not like seeing cruelty.
She can be extremely stubborn and metaphorically dig her heels into the ground when she feels she is doing the right thing. It is hard to convince her of certain things at times which can be frustrating. It isn’t to say she won’t listen to reason, it is just a difficult process.
She is always busy taking care of everyone else that she forgets to take care of herself. She will always end up serving herself last or if there is not enough then she will try to go without. If she is sick, then she will try to pretend she is fine so she doesn’t slow the group down. If she is hurt then she tries to deal with it herself. She would give up her life if it meant saving someone else which could be scary thought for others.
Neutral
Astraea loves walking in the rain. The feel of it in her skin and the way it slicks off her wings. The fresh smell of the earth and the distinct scent that is the rain. The sound of thunder gives her chills as it is unpleasant but it is worth it to see the lightning dance through the sky. She can often be found standing or dancing in the rain with no care of sickness. It is also nice to be in the rain sometimes because no one can see you cry.
She has a love of nature and all the sounds that come with her give her peace. She enjoys sitting around a crackling fire and roughing it. The hike to the perfect spot and setting up camp. The elements against you and surviving through it all. It is as thrilling as it can be peaceful
She loves the day but there is something to be said about the night and watching the sky. The glittering of stars against an inky black night. The way the moon glows and watching the cycle as it fades away only to return again. It reminds her of hope, that light can pierce through the dark.
Astraea has a joy for knowledge and the feeling that books give you. They let you draw away from the world to somewhere totally new. The feelings the story can bring out in you that you weren’t sure you could feel. The ability to enjoy and learn. Words can be a powerful thing.
She loves singing and luckily has the voice for it. She often can be found singing lullabies or humming while she cooks dinner. It makes her happy to have others enjoy her songs.
The feel of rushing water, relaxing and floating in a stream or lake. She jokes many times that maybe she was a mermaid in another life. It is something about water that just makes her feel refreshed and ready to take on the world. She did most of her thinking while swimming.
Her ears are very sensitive to sound and she finds it disorienting when a loud noise suddenly breaks out. It makes her cringe and sometimes just cover her ears altogether. If the noise is continuous, it can even give her headaches.
She loves tastes that are sweet or spicy but when they are bitter she just wants to make a face. She has tried to get past this and try new things but it just is the worse in her opinion.
She doesn’t like her wings touched unless she trusts someone completely. They are delicate and not everyone understands this. It also would be extremely hard to deal with a broken wing in the position they are at. She does enjoy her hair being brush and played with though and does not mind the feather there being touched.
Skills
She enjoys cooking new recipes and making favorites that others like. It is calming for her and she has a passion for trying new ideas when possible. New combinations make it always a learning experience and new joys to be found.
Sewing made the most sense to learn this skill so that quick fixes on the road could be made and with any luck, sell some outfits for a bit of extra money. You never know when it could come in handy. It could even come into use when deep wounds were to happen
Big game is not always around to hunt so to make up for this, Astraea has learned how to set traps. She is actually quite good at making them and could actually keep the camp safe from bandits with a few of them. The best part is that she will not have to chase after her target and let it come to her.
Her Mama taught her how to fish at a young age so she would always be able to have food to eat even if she did not have a weapon for big game or if she couldn't trap anything. She is very good with actually spearing fish, knowing how to be patient enough to wait still in the water. The best way to get a lot of fish though is always through the fishing pole route which was also taught to her.
Astraea’s singing can be mesmerizing to some as it is mellifluous and pure. She has amazing range which broadens her horizons in the way of song. This skill is mostly put to work if someone’s music strikes a spark in her or if lullabies are needed to lull little ones to sleep.
Focal Crystal
A pale shimmering blue focal crystal was encased in a silver intricate design with a white gold crescent moon looking up to the sky and resting just about the blue crystal. White moonstone gems and clear sparkling crystals dangled from the bottom of the intricate design though the largest clear crystal in the middle suspended a blue star. The same stones trailing the bottom of the necklace weaved into the chain.
Special Equipment
Bag of Holding - This bag has an interior space considerably larger than its outside dimensions. The bag can hold up to 500 pounds, not exceeding a volume of 64 cubic feet. The bag weighs 15 pounds max, regardless of its contents. When looking into the bag, items appear smaller than they actually are until pulled from the bag to return to normal size. Living items are not to ever go in this bag or they shall die.
Kindred Bracelets - When two people are wearing one of these bracelets, they are always aware of when the other is in life-threatening danger. This bracelet adjusts in size to fit the wearer.
Equipment
As Astraea has a bag that can hold more than most, she has items to hold that are not her own along with her own items. The items that are hers include cooking kit, bowls, plates, utensils, clothes, snare/trap equipment, fishing pole, books for her and some that she knows the little ones enjoy, journal, quill, inkwell, sewing kit, blankets, flint, hairbrush, bandages,breads, dried fruit, nuts, dried meats, dried spices and herbs.
Weapon
Chain Whip
Special Attack
Miracles - It is what the word Miracle encompass. She can turn a single coin in a purse into a full sack of gold, make an empty water sack full again, and help you be guided on the right path. It's a prayer or a wish. It's wish magic in an essence. It only works for those that are in desperate need of her miracles. Everything has its limits and not all prayers can be answered. No matter if she wanted to bless them.
Magic Lv
5
Spellbook
A dark blue book, the spine and edges decorated in complex gold designs looped around pearls. A string of white crystals danced across the front of the book, just under the large round midnight blue gem that made up the main focal point of the cover. When active, the midnight blue gem glows with runic symbols, the white crystals alight and the dark blue of the books cover suddenly glitters with spots of light like stars in the night sky. This is usually stored in her bag.
School of Focus
Light
Lesser Spell
Sanctuary - Bless oneself or another ally for 1 "turn". That person will not take damage next time they are targeted for an attack.
Miracle's Light - Those in the range of this spell feel stronger and get a boon in strength. Undead and Deamon whenever in Miracle's Light strength are cursed and cause a weakening effect. Miracle's Light shines a radius around the user that reaches up to 10ft circumference. Those in the area need to be in the range of Miracle's Light in order to receive its blessing.
Semblance View - This illusionary magic needs a base object roughly the same size as what you are trying to make appear in others eyes. If you wish to have a coin appear, you would need to find something like a rock that is the same size. This effect only lasts only so long and needs magic to be held in place.
Medium Spell
Luminous Smite- This spell does a blast of light that harms those that are undead and deamon by performing a burning effect, but has a "healing" aura to non-undead/deamon. Certain Halflings would be an exception to this rule as it would cancel out both effects.
Misc Battle Info
- When in a fight, Astraea is more of a defensive fighter. She will try to keep everyone else healed and protected, this being her main focus but will put up a pretty skilled fight if she needs too. She is not one to be underestimated.
Arrival
She knelt down beside the edge of her bed, tears dripping from sapphire eyes as she hung her head in defeat, the wavy blond hair cascading down like a curtain that blocked her view from the world. Would she forever continue to lose those she loved? Monaxía lightly touched the bracelet at her wrist, her heartbreaking more as she knew its counterpart would be placed back in her hands soon with the news of her beloved's death. The twisted gold band of the Kindred Bracelet sparkled in the moonlight, the gift feeling more like a curse in this moment. She had felt when he was in danger and could do nothing while he was away at war. This time she felt no connect and no hum of magic waiting to warn her which meant the danger had not passed this time. She was alone in this world, with not even a child to remember him by. How many times had she lost them? How many flowers marked their graves? Why was life so unfair to her? First, she lost her parents, then she lost her children and now the love of her life. She had finally found happiness with a man that cared not that she had no dowry to her name, that she was of ill health, that she lived on the outer rim of town, and that she would never be able to bare him a child. He loves her for her. The way she was clumsy, the way she loved laying in the grass, the way she played with her hair when she was nervous and the smile that only he got to see. Monaxía had felt blessed to have him in her life and now she had no idea what she would do. She tilted her head up to the night sky, a shooting star passing by. She closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. Monaxía didn’t want to be alone in this world and she would accept their gift in whichever form they blessed her with should they see fit to grant it. Not all prayers would be answered but she hoped this time, hers had been heard.
Pain gripped her, clutching the sheet and trying to breathe as she was asked by the midwives. She was afraid that she wouldn’t make it, that the child she had been blessed with would have her fate to be alone. She felt so weak and she just wanted to rest. No, she wouldn’t let that happen! She had to keep going and think positive. She prayed to her beloved, Kleos, for strength through this trail. It had been hours and all she wanted to hear was her baby’s cry now. She pushed when she was told and after many more hours, she finally was able to relax, her child crying. The midwives were chattering, panic in the air and she was scared for a single moment that something was wrong or perhaps the child was stillborn when they quickly placed the child in her arms. Monaxía has never seen a more beautiful child. Sure, her daughter seemed to have a little deformity at her hips but she could care less because she was holding her daughter. This was a moment she had always waited for and though her beloved would not be rushing in to join her in her joy, she still felt happiness. They would live and she would do everything to always be there for her child.
The two sat under the cherry tree, enjoying the bright sunny day after filling the buckets with a good amount of the tasty red treat. Astraea could not wait for her Mama to make her famous cherry pie. Well, it was famous to the little girl at least though she didn’t have others to compare it too. At first people thought she was a freak and laughed, but as her feathers came in they start to treat her bad in other ways so Mama told her they had to keep to their own. Mama told her the story, how the Celestials had blessed her with a child so she could share her life with another and told her of Papa so she knew why he was not here with them. Mama told her it was alright to be different even if everyone else fear what they did not understand. She hoped one day she could show the others she was a good girl and that they would stop hurting Mama’s feelings. Mama always says one day people would understand her but that day seemed so far away.
Monaxía hummed a gentle tone, petting Astraea’s hair and making sure to avoid the feathers that had grown there. She grew more beautiful every day and she was so proud of the sweet girl her daughter was. It had been why she took her away from town, not wanting her to fear the world around her because people were showing how cruel they could be. When Astraea had wandered off at market, she had been more terrified at losing her and cursing herself for not watching more carefully. It was when she found her baby, curled up in a ball while crying and bruises littering her small form that she made sure that Astraea would never be hurt again by these cruel beings. She had hugged her baby, crying for her and anger was bitter towards the town even more now than ever before.
She had started a personal garden that day and started selling her merchandise to the next town over. It would mean more work and trading for awhile but it was worth it in her eyes. The last few months had been so peaceful and things had started to really look up for the two of them. Monaxía sneezed, the motion killing the calm mood she was creating with her humming.
Astraea looked up, a little startled and worry showing clearly on her face. Her Mama just smiled and blamed the spring air but she was worried as it was happening more often lately. She knew how to make a fire and some simple things like tea but she couldn’t feed her Mama if she got sick, at least not the things her Mama made when she needed to feel better. The nice man, already came by a few days ago so he wouldn’t be back till a very long time cause they wouldn’t be able to trade. Her Mama didn’t seem to be pale and wasn’t even coughing though so maybe it was nothing just like Mama said.
She sat on the floor, folding each item of clothing as her Mama lay in bed, weakly telling her how to fold and what should go in the pack. She asked Mama if they were going somewhere but all she would get was a sad smile and a ‘I hope not’. She kept getting sicker and the doctors here would not help her. It was all her fault. If she was a normal girl then Mama would be helped but instead, she had been getting worse since that night when some of the townspeople came.
She had been told to stay inside but Astraea had opened the window to hear what was going on. They demanded she be handed over, taken to the Council Seven for judgment and that her Mama had brought shame to this town and would be tried as well if she did not do as she was told. She knew her Mama was not healthy, that even now, just standing before them that she was putting on a show of strength. She told them to be gone and that if the Council had anything to say that they could say it in person. They threatened her to which she gave them a bow to the face with an arrow to make her point known. Blood would be spilled if they did not leave so they left, saying they would be back.
That was days ago and now, her Mama would not be able to stand up to them again. She couldn’t even get out of bed and Astraea had been following her instructions what to do and how. It was very strange that Mama wanted none of her own things packed yet and was focused on getting everything for her packed first. She didn’t mind packing for her Mama if only she told her what she wanted but maybe there was too much and her things were easier to pack.
Darkness fell on their little home, no moon to shine its light. A heavy feeling hung in the air, like something bad was about to happen. Neither of the house's occupants could sleep as they lay in bed, the little girl not willing to be far from her Mama’s side as she could need something in the night. It was so silent that not even the crickets dare chirp and it made this nagging feeling even worse. It was in this quiet silence that Monaxía spoke up softly, “Are you still awake my shining star?”
“Yes Mama, do you need something?”
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything, just name it.”
“If something should happen to me. I want you to take the bag you packed today and leave this place. Do you understand? Can you promise me this?”
“What are you saying? Why do you want me to leave you?!”
Her Mama weakly and painfully rolled to her side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked to her.
“I would never want to leave you but it is not safe here and I do not know if I will be strong enough to go with you. I fear that the townspeople will try something horrible and I could not stand it if you were hurt because of me. Promise me, that when I tell you to run, you will take the bag and leave this place.”
“I will, Mama.”
“I need to hear you promise.”
“I promise.”
“That is my good girl.” Her Mama smiled for a moment before pulling the twisted bracelet from her wrist and sliding it onto Astraea’s free wrist, one bracelet on each. “Now Papa and I will always be with you and we will be able to watch over you and anyone you need to protect.”
Astraea hugged her Mama tightly, feeling like this was a goodbye. It was a memory she etched in her mind just in case she had to do as she promised and leave but she wanted to remember everything she could about her in this moment. She felt a dry kiss on her forehead and barely even felt the hug around her for how light it was.
It wasn’t long before this moment was broken, shadows of light dancing through the windows as a crowd of people came, torches being held by the Council Seven and others speckled through the crowd. The two looked in terror as without warning, they tossed the fires to the roof of their home and onto the grass. They did not come to speak or give them a chance. They had made the decision to kill them both, cowardly in the night.
“Run! Go now!”
“But Mama!”
“Promise.”
Astraea froze for but a moment before jumping out of bed, coughing as the smoke began to build and pieces of roof fell. She looked back to her Mama, before having to head towards the back door, her heart breaking and tears never stopping. She couldn’t leave without her knowing. She didn’t think her Mama would make it and she felt worse for feeling like she was abandoning her.
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, Astraea. Run.”
She ran straight for the back door, tears burning her eyes among other things as she grabbed the pack of clothes and food by the door. Astraea knocked the door open, not stopping as she ran as fast as her feet could take her. She only took a brief moment to look back once she was at the edge of the Thorned Forest and watched her home engulfed in flames and heard the cheers of joy from the crowd at the horrible crime they had done. Everything she had ever known and loved, gone. She steeled herself, heading into the dark forest. There were tales of the Thorned Forest, all mana of creatures lurking to kill a man at first sight but that would be her fate either way and at least in the forest, she could hide.
How long had she been here? She did not know. She hid in caves and dens, fighting off creatures and covering her ears to avoid being lured by others. It didn’t matter how long she wandered, she couldn’t get out. Now she knew why the Council banished people here. You thought you might be saved but it was a lie. The choice was death or death if you did not know how to avoid the creatures as most didn’t. The nice man that visited had told her some tales, they had saved her more than once.
The rain fell, panic and cold filling her being as she had not found a place to stay for the night. The full moons glow not even lighting most of the area as the clouds kept passing by. She scrambled, trying to not run into any danger that was sure to be lurking. She could hear the clomping of footfalls and was now wide open in a clearing. Astraea shivered, the rain pouring down harder than before and making it even harder to see but she didn’t stop moving as the noise got closer. She missed her Mama. She missed home. She wanted out of here.
She cried out, tripping over a loose root and landing into the mud. Astraea tried to push herself up, the sticky goo clinging to her and making her slip about while she tried to stand. A hand grabbed her and she screamed, struggling to get away when a familiar voice spoke out, asking why she was here. She looked up, the nice man that Mama always traded with was looking back down at her. Worry etched on his face, his hand firm on her shoulder while the other one held onto the horse. He picked her up, placing her in his covered cart. He wrapped her up in a blanket, letting her get warm and get some rest as he headed forward.
Nicolas had thought the girl was dead when he found the whole place burnt. The locals had said that lightning had struck, killing the family that had lived there. The little girl in his cart made him think different now. It wouldn’t be safe to take her back but he couldn’t care for her either. The only place he knew that would take in an orphan like this girl would be Gertie’s. It would be her best chance. It was then that he changed course to give this girl a new home and a new chance.
Theme Song
Misc
- Astraea’s hometown is named Fort Halloway.
- The Thorned Forest surrounds most of the town and they have build spiked walls to protect themselves though some live outside the walls and hunt nearby.
- Monaxía sold some of the game she hunted, trapped and fished for. She also crafted, sewed and knitted items for sale to make a good living. She taught some of these skills to Astraea though she did not learn them all.
Landaus Five-One The Sadist Insaneous One
Member
Seen
20 min ago
Age: 14
Species: Human
Description: Rhaya’s body been through a rigorous training regime with a slight edge on keeping her in shape and building her muscle mass. Because of this she weighs 116 pounds and is only 5’2” feet tall for her age. On her body she got some bruises from the training with wooden swords all day and night during her sparring matches. She has a single sword slash scar on her back, from a ironblade weapon that her sparring partner Beatrix S. Tver used against the top rule of the academy. Her eyes glow slightly brighter when she’s wielding her sword or using wind magic.
She wears a emerald pendant necklace, which has only herself and her mother Darcy L. Claire within it. She has a birthmark on her left shoulder that is a star, which is the same as Darcy’s birthmark. She radiates an aura showing she’s been trained really hard in a very well known establishment of the greatest warrior women known to man. It is a confident aura mostly, that she’s at least skilled in wielding a weapon she was taught specifically by Darcy and Ashley since she had a unnatural talent to wield a Katana.
Her clothing style is similar to noble caste people, since her family’s name brings much weight to the bargaining table. Her family worked hard to become a noble, she will work as hard to continue that as well. The clothes she wears is similar to her military outfit in terms of colors and trim but that’s mostly it. She has a bracelet on her wrist that signifies the training at the Drake’s Female Academy with a black dragon image on the bracelet itself and emeralds for the black dragon’s eyes.
Strengths:
”Many things in this world have a counterbalance. I was taught this in the Drake’s Female Academy and by Headmistress Darcy.”
She had always been an optimist at heart and it usually gives her the self-made focus to keep herself going when it feels hopeless. It did help that the Drake’s Female Academy made that self-made focus into something greater. The training taught her to be very diligent of everyone’s feelings, their reasons for coming there, and their aspirations. This is usually called her high sensitivity to the environment and people around her, if they are happy, she’s happy, if they are depressed and down in the dumps she is too. This made her the most liked student of the Drake’s Female Academy for that specific reason.
She hardly ever complained during any of her studies or training sessions in the Drake’s Female Academy, mostly because she is a hard worker. She had always been a dreamer somewhat and usually would talk about the future to many people. She got noticed mostly because of her dreams and future talk to everyone in the Drake’s Female Academy. She had always put on a smile when she would be bruised or injured by someone’s accurate hits on her. It showed her to be ironwilled individual.
She insightful in certain people’s form, while sparring, she can easily execute some beautiful moves to exploit their weaknesses. Her showing off is mostly like a dance or fun to her, since its the only thing she finds fun in the Drake’s Female Academy. The playful nature in her insightful attacks or how she just dances with her blade wooden or not is awe inspiring, to others wanting to copy her but failing at it.
She always had a friendly outlook on everyone, even those people who are quite hostile to her, in terms of her rivals. This gives everyone a slight bit pause, when they see her because they know she can be brutal in sparring if you underestimate her. It gives everyone including her rivals a slight hint of not taking this girl lightly. She gives people many chances even though the Drake’s Female Academy is very strict in that regard.
Flaws:
Her friendly nature of always wanting to be friends with anyone usually rubs people the wrong way in the Drake’s Female Academy. It usually causes people who outright hate her to call for a sparring match. They would usually straight out punch her in the face for being herself. She takes awhile to figure out what’s wrong when it’s too late to apologize and usually keeps some of her pent up aggravation bottled up. She can’t really figure out the real reason anyone would hate her guts. It usually takes until someone bluntly says it to her face, she’s the youngest person within the Drake’s Female Academy, who’s has an innate and natural talent for swordplay. The jealousy in her rivals tone is clear as day.
Her most bottled up emotion is sadness, she has never cried or done anything to show that she’s a girl and need to do girl things. She gets laughed at sometimes for the fact she’s so unlike everyone else. She doesn’t speak her mind to anyone not even the teachers, because she sees everyone that needs respect and no questions. This usually causes her to get somewhat bad grades in being assertive and dominate during Battlefield training, aka a leadership role alike her mother had.
The thing that frustrates her the most, which usually causes people to be frustrated with her, is her out right great mind. She tries to use it for simple things, but it always tries to think two steps ahead of anyone, when they are in a sparring match or even during the Battlefield training. Her tactician mind frustrates everyone around her including her mother, since tacticians should be leaders but she doesn’t want to lead. She doesn’t really do great with awe inspiring speeches, and usually stumbles on her words and constantly say, sorry I can’t do this anymore and runs off with a quite shocking speed to her room in the Academy. She punishes herself a lot and wants to change her shyness to public speaking but constantly stuck in the same loop of not being able to do anything about it.
She had a big problem in knowing someone’s feelings towards her, besides their hate and vitriol. She has always been thick headed when it came to people who love her in more than just anything. Which is probably why she gained her biggest rival in the Drake’s Female Academy, by the name of Beatrix S. Tver. She couldn’t mentally understand her affection towards her, it didn’t really click in her head. It took her to figure it out right after, Beatrix cheated to harm her in the most brutal way possible. She figured out that Beatrix was a scorn by her neglect and she has been trying to fix this part of her lack of knowledge of affection for awhile.
Neutral:
One of her hobbies, is looking up at the stars. She enjoys doing this so much she constantly does it alone or with someone she cares about. Her mother usually watches the star with her, when she was at the Drake’s Female Academy. There’s only one other person she shared this moment with, and that was her greatest rival, Beatrix S. Tver. She only saw a friend within Beatrix and nothing more until she figured that out after awhile.
The other of her hobbies, is playing some form of dragon vs human chess. She’s a master of this chess board, since she usually only ever plays dragons, because they are the white chess pieces on the board. It is one of the reasons, she usually is two steps ahead of people. She only ever loses to the adults in the Drake’s Female Academy.
She has a odd habit, which is a strange form of spin before she strikes a target or a person with a wooden sword. She kinda has a smile on her face when doing it too, because she’s having fun while doing it. It was never taught in the Drake’s Female Academy, its just how she wields a sword while attacking with it.
She outright has a passion for cute things, but she usually blushes when someone catches her looking at something really cute. It could be a beautiful flower, or a cute animal. It is tied in her quirk because of the blushing part, she constantly blushes mostly. She is highly embarrassed of the fact she does this at all.
She has another hobby, and it is classified as reading she enjoys reading the books she got from the Drake’s Female Academy. She read most of the books in that Academy but she always goes back to the Rules of Engagement and her mother’s bedtime story all the time. Those two books she enjoys keeping with her at all times. These two books are an anchor when she needs to fall asleep or remember some of the curriculum of the Drake’s Female Academy.
Skills:
Lookout
Her eyes are very sharp since her time training at the Drake’s Female Academy. And usually use for lookout to keep people safe while they are traveling on the road or at camp. She can usually take her lookout shift seriously enough and hardly ever got bad grades on this. Out of everything, it’s pretty much essential to have someone who got a great eye to see something out of the ordinary.
Conversation
Her conversational skills is pretty exceptional for her age, compared to older girls in the Drake’s Female Academy. It’s a natural talent for her mostly, she can hold conversations about anything that’s on her mind that interests her including the cute things. Even though that involves her being embarrassed at the thought of the entire conversation. She can talk about anything that interests the group or otherwise. Her noble charms usually comes through within the conversation, since it’s very hard to hide the fact she’s a noble that went to a very prestigious female academy.
Running
She’s great at running in large sprints to keep in front of people on a large march through anything. Her running style kinda is definitely the same as her mother’s since her mother and her usually run all the time outside of the Drake’s Female Academy. Not many girls her age or older could keep up with her at the Drake’s Female Academy since it is a very rigorous training regimen and grueling marches around the landscape of Drake’s Female Academy.
Horse Riding
She can ride a horse pretty effectively even though it took a lot of practice to stop falling off of one. She usually enjoys running or walking but if there’s a horse nearby she’ll be pretty easily to get on it and help anyone who needs a lift and ride them around. She hasn’t really been able to find anyone who really likes this skill of hers because she rides a bit slower than most great message carriers. Mostly because she doesn’t want anyone to be knocked off the horse for her going to fast.
Focal Crystal: The Emerald Eye - It’s color is emerald green and it is located on the White Clairist Katana. She calls it the emerald eye for sentimental value mostly because it is attached to her family’s heirloom weapon. Her mother called it something different but it had a similar name throughout the generations of the Claire Family as a whole.
Special Equipment:
White Clairist Katana
*In her appearance tab
The White Clairist Katana has been in the Claire family for generations. The only person able to masterfully use this katana is Rhaya’s mother by the name of Darcy L. Claire. Rhaya was given the chance to do the same as her mother and master and follow the creed of the Claire family. “Never back down from a fight even if you are outnumbered and constantly strive to be the best you can be,” the creed of her family for generations.
Ability: White Windshield - The singular ability of the White Clairist Katana, it protects the user in a white windshield of pure wind energies that only protects Rhaya in her direct front. She must be holding the White Clairist Katana directionally in front of her, in how her mother taught her how to wield it. The White Windshield comes directly out of the Emerald Eye. When it activates the ability, it sounds like birds are singing, the singing dissipates after awhile. This ability affects Rhaya’s eye color by giving it a glow that is similar to the White Windshield effect, which is white with a outline of emerald green surrounding the white.
Aspected Professional Trainee Garb
*In her appearance tab
This garb was handcrafted by the military school she went to mostly because of the high professionalism of the Claire Family’s name. This is aspected to her magical school, which she picked up at the Military school called Drake’s Female Academy. This fine establishment always takes care of their own and is leaded by Darcy L. Claire but doesn’t give anyone special treatment since she’s a strict head instructor.
Ability: Windstream Defense - This singular ability of the Aspected Professional Trainee garb. It enhances the strength of White Windshield by giving it a second layer of defense. It pulses with energy every second this one ability is active to this degree. It makes noises of grasshoppers chirping towards anyone who directly in front of Rhaya, but it doesn’t hurt anyone’s ear drums.
Equipment:
The Claire Pack - This is a large pack, with the Claire family symbol on it. It carries many things, that a Claire family member usually requires for themselves on a travel or journey. This one pack has much history since it was used much when Darcy was traveling and learning how to become the headmistress of the Drake’s Female Academy. Darcy gave this pack to her daughter to cherish everything that is coming in the future.
Sharpening Tool - She carries sharpening tool on her all the time to sharpen her weapons if they get dull so they can do their job. It was given to her by specifically her teacher in the Drake’s Female Academy by the name of Ashley R. Tver. She learned from Ashley to always take care of her weapons or she wouldn’t get a good grade when it came to maintaining them.
Books - She carries with her in her pack, two specific books. The first one is her favorite bedtime story that her mother usually tells her, it’s usually a folklore story about a beautiful woman becoming leader of a great nation. The second one is the Drake’s Female Academy’s rules of engagement and some interesting facts on monsters out in the world, but its very basic rules. It has a specific tagline, of learning about a monster is always better fighting it instead of theorycrafting it.
Weapon: Purple Emerald Katana - Rhaya got this Katana as a spare from her mother’s weapon collection. It made her eyes shine with how pretty the blade looked and it always help with emeralds. It is a spare non-magically enchanted katana. She uses it for training purposes, mostly because her mother was strict she needs to focus on set tasks every single hour or lose her sharp edge since being distracted is dangerous.
‘Rock’ the Iron Shortsword - This iron shortsword has a name inscribed on it of Rock. It was in her mother’s weapon collection for sentimental value but her mother gave it to her for one reason alone. This weapon was her father’s that she doesn’t remember since he died when she was only two years old. Her mother couldn’t stop looking at it and bringing up great memories before her husband died. She gave it to her daughter on one condition, that she brings it back after her long journey wherever that might lead.
Special Attack: N/A
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: The spellbook was crafted by a specialty mage within the Drake’s Female Academy, it looks more like a highly specialized rule book than a spellbook. It follows the primary colors of the academy’s attire, white, emerald green, a black dragon symbol in the middle, and gold trim. It has Rhaya’s full name on it in pretty font on the back of the Spellbook, which is colorful to fit her personality. The one who created this spellbook put her name on the front underneath the Black Dragon symbol by the name of Vashti I. Perleth, who’s a Human Mage for the Drake's Female Academy and as well the headmistress’ best friend, which is Darcy Lyn Claire.
School of Focus: Wind
Spells:
Wind Bolt
She chants her Academy’s motto, which is, I will always be prepared for anything. It will require the full scope of my focus to defeat any foe. It forms above her left shoulder in a form of a Bolt of Wind, similar to an arrow or lightning bolt. She will shoot it out towards an opponent that is attacking her with extreme prejudice and that's mostly monsters. The Wind Bolt's color is similar to the color to White Windshield, which is an ability for the White Clairist Katana.
The charge up time for this spell is around 1 minute and 15 seconds. At the maximum amount of charge it looks more like a Lightning Bolt of Wind and is pretty quick to hit the target. The less charge it forms into an arrow or bolt from an Archer's longbow or Crossbow, it's usually less powerful as a bolt or an arrow.
Cold Wind
She chants her Academy’s motto, which is, I will always be prepared for anything. It will require the full scope of my focus to defeat any foe. The cold wind spell is very visible when she uses the spell, compared to mother nature's cold winds, that usually get much colder in temperature. It is colored to seem unnatural, mostly because you will see whitish green wind coming towards you. It helps people who are dead tired of the heat or trained too hard and is completely exhausted.
The charge up time for this spell is around 2 minutes and 15 seconds. At the maximum amount of charge gives out a proper Cold Wind worth of 40 degrees in temperature. Any less than maximum amount of charge, gives around 50 degrees in temperature, in terms it transforms from a Cold Wind into a Cool Breeze.
Spherical Wind
She chants her Academy’s motto, which is, I will always be prepared for anything. It will require the full scope of my focus to defeat any foe. The Spherical Wind forms above her head, which has a similar color to her White Windshield ability. It moves slowly towards an opponent that is attacking her with extreme prejudice, and that's mostly monsters. When it hits a monster it gives out a burst of cool breeze type affect towards anyone that is her allies near the monster, that it hits.
The charge up time for this spell is around 1 minute and 30 seconds. The longer it has been charged the cooler the wind that bursts out from it after hitting a creature or monster. Which usually equals warmer than the Cold Winds she uses but better than the extreme heat of a desert.
Tempest’s Strike
She chants her Academy’s motto, which is, I will always be prepared for anything. It will require the full scope of my focus to defeat any foe. It is an extremely precise wind magic spell, that she was taught by her mother Darcy in the most perfect of circumstances. It forms into a Crescent Moon shaped wind type blade, that is purely made up of wind. It launches towards a target in a really fast spinning motion, similar to a buzz saw from a lumber mill. The closer it gets to the target the faster it goes.
It is called Tempest's Strike since it cuts like a saw to a tree. The color is pure solid green to show its compacted wind magic. It takes about a total of four minutes to fully charge up to be as powerful to cut at least 12 trees in a row. It appears directly above her, so it goes towards a target.
Tempest’s Barrier
She chants her Academy’s motto, which is, I will always be prepared for anything. It will require the full scope of my focus to defeat any foe. It is a extremely defensive wind magic spell, that she was taught by her mother Darcy. It forms into a large wind barrier or wall directly in front of Rhaya. It is purely solid and can only block non-magical arrows very easily, only because of its toughness. The color is pure solid green to show its compacted wind magic.
It has a charge up time, the maximum amount of time that it can be charged up to is 3 minutes and 30 seconds. The maximum charge can block around a total of fifty arrows. Half charged can only block around 25 arrows. Barely charged is for quick escapes and only blocks alike around 5 arrows at most before it dissipates. The way someone can tell it is weakening is simply it changes color to a white puffy like cloud when it is about to fully collapse and disperse.
Misc Battle Info:
Her battle style is very much similar to her mother, even though she only uses one weapon instead of dual wielding like her mother style. She uses a modified sword dancing style compared to her mother’s since she only wields one sword compared to two. When it comes to sword wielding that is. But their magic wielding style is definitely different since her mother has been around much longer than her daughter.
Darcy refined the art of wind magic to a tee but the two spells she taught her daughter are identical. The only reason why these two spells are identical is because it’s primarily because it’s the Claire Family’s specialized wind magic spells. Not many people can copy Tempest’s Strike or Tempest’s Barrier that well.
”The tempest bore witness to a child of impressive skill and innate talent. The winds are always fleeting and usually take away the measurable strength or spirit with them. The Claire Family grew stronger through conflict, schooling and the birth of the latest child within their family by the name of Rhaya.”
14 years ago on June 15th was when Rhaya was born to Darcy Lyn Claire and Derrick Lee Claire. This was a momentous occasion for the Claire Noble family of the town called Vaira Stars, which has about five noble houses. The Vaira Stars town has massive events for when one of the noble families have a child, which is called the ceremony of life. The ceremony of life has everyone living in the town to celebrate with the noble family or regular citizens that live in the town. It is a pretty exciting time to be in Vaira Stars when these births occur, since everyone is jovial and congrats the family who had a child born.
Derrick and Darcy were the only ones throughout the entire village or town that didn’t have a child born until it happened. Two of their greatest allies, who are to the Claire family are the Tver Family and the Perleth family. These three families are three of the five noble houses within the Vaira Stars Town. The only noble house that was very sparse during the celebration was the 4th and 5th Noble houses, their head wasn’t at the celebration. They were out drilling the knights and other such military that the Vaira Stars town are very proud of, while staying clear from the grand fortress academy called Drake’s Female Academy.
The women who defend the Drake’s Female Academy are terrifying when they are training the new generation of warriors. For the all female military arm called the ‘Grand Valkyrie squadron,’ which are called that for their usefulness on a horseback. Everyone within the Vaira Stars celebrates the greatness that is the Academy with a great celebration. The celebration is classified as a honoring celebration and birthday for how long it has been in service.
The Grand Fortress Academy was built 150 to 350 years ago when the Vaira Royal Family was fully competent and didn’t want to start anything with the other great cities in the world. Lately the Vaira Royal Family has been getting less and less active in the world because they are content with the noble families they have underneath them be their faces. The only greatest project they did was the building of the Grand Fortress Academy underneath King Drake L. Vaira.
He was their greatest king and to this day, his statue is in the center of the Vaira Stars Town as a symbol of education for all the women of the town. He’s remembered constantly when they talk about how the Drake’s Female Academy was built. Each celebration in this town lasts for a week. The longest celebration is the winter or summer festival, which lasts up to a month and two weeks.
Meanwhile, back at the celebration of Life, which involved Rhaya’s birth. Derrick was mingling with his friends, while his wife was relaxing after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl, while chatting with some of her best friends. The birth went really smoothly like the Tempest herself was watching over them. It’s not a god or anything but how nature can be really gentle until it turns into a raging storm. It’s the Claire’s family crest, a tornado with a sword through it to signify the wrath of the winds are the worst kind of thing to deal with.
Derrick outright hated rumors of any kind that slandered the Claire Noble Family name or the Vaira Royal Family name. Since these two families were even closer than the Parleth and Tver families are to the Claire family. The rumor was that the Queen Selina L. Vaira would invoke the wrath of the tempest and cause a calamity on the entire town and it would be wiped out. The people who were spreading those rumors were people who weren’t from the village at all, but everyone is welcome at any of their celebrations. Derrick couldn’t make a scene since Selina was there to quash the rumors with a warm hearted speech and led her people in continuing the celebration.
Derrick celebrated Queen Selina with a cheer and toast for that wonderful leadership speech even though she’s not much of a fighter, since she’s a straight up pacifist and the descendant of King Drake L. Vaira. The celebration abruptly stopped because the Claire family don’t really like week long celebrations even though it is a tradition within the town, but usually the only two families to stop a celebration are the Vaira Royal Family and the Claire Noble Family. Queen Selina talked to her ancestors staunchest of allies in their home after the celebration and told them congrats in their baby girl and hopeful she will be as good as them with swords.
The two parents were happy to hear Selina’s congratulations and hopeful they will keep their sword training going within their family. Derrick looked at Selina, with a stern look and wanted to say something.
“I must ask you an important question, what about your daughter Selina?” Derrick asked.
“She’s doing well, she continuing her studies in how to be a proper princess, even though she’s pretty much. Alike your wife most of the time of the day when she’s not training herself in getting stronger or other things,” Selina said, happily.
“Oh that’s nice Selina, anything we can do to help her out?” Derrick asked, with the look on his face.
“Oh the entry into the Drake’s Female Academy would help but she’s a bit off from that since the age to join a military-esque academy to become apart of is around 13 years old,” Selina said, with a happy smile.
Darcy looked a bit curiously towards Selina and wondered how old the daughter to the queen is, right now. “I could give her an aptitude test to see if she could get in earlier, we are always looking for new recruits to the your ancestor’s academy. If she has any innate talent and skill with a weapon that is and her elemental aptitude test too,” Darcy said, happily always wanting to give everyone a chance to get in since her ancestor was the one in charge of aptitude tests back in the day.
Selina looked surprised and forgot about the Claire family’s talent in seeing talent and innate abilities in others. “Ah yeah, my daughter Sarah Isis Vaira will be happy to meet her most favorite of the Grand Valkyrie Squadron, nicknamed Windbreaker,” Selina said, with a laugh when she said that.
Darcy looked down when she heard her nickname she gained while being a Grand Valkyrie, it took a toll on her love life for a long time. “I will be grateful to meet your daughter Selina,” Darcy said kindly to the queen of the city.
Selina got up and smiled at Darcy with her response. “I look forward to seeing my daughter happy,” Selina said happily. She waves goodbye to Darcy and Derrick and goes back to the Royal Family’s Castle called the Drake’s Grand Palace in honor of her ancestor.
Derrick looks towards his wife with a bit of a smile. “It is nice, we were able to speak to Selina in our most happy time,” Derrick said. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the fact he’s finally alone with his wife.
Darcy giggled at what he said, but couldn’t help but wonder how Rhaya will grow up within their noble house. After that the two parents went to bed, and made sure their baby girl was sleeping soundly.
Derrick and Darcy were the only ones throughout the entire village or town that didn’t have a child born until it happened. Two of their greatest allies, who are to the Claire family are the Tver Family and the Perleth family. These three families are three of the five noble houses within the Vaira Stars Town. The only noble house that was very sparse during the celebration was the 4th and 5th Noble houses, their head wasn’t at the celebration. They were out drilling the knights and other such military that the Vaira Stars town are very proud of, while staying clear from the grand fortress academy called Drake’s Female Academy.
The women who defend the Drake’s Female Academy are terrifying when they are training the new generation of warriors. For the all female military arm called the ‘Grand Valkyrie squadron,’ which are called that for their usefulness on a horseback. Everyone within the Vaira Stars celebrates the greatness that is the Academy with a great celebration. The celebration is classified as a honoring celebration and birthday for how long it has been in service.
The Grand Fortress Academy was built 150 to 350 years ago when the Vaira Royal Family was fully competent and didn’t want to start anything with the other great cities in the world. Lately the Vaira Royal Family has been getting less and less active in the world because they are content with the noble families they have underneath them be their faces. The only greatest project they did was the building of the Grand Fortress Academy underneath King Drake L. Vaira.
He was their greatest king and to this day, his statue is in the center of the Vaira Stars Town as a symbol of education for all the women of the town. He’s remembered constantly when they talk about how the Drake’s Female Academy was built. Each celebration in this town lasts for a week. The longest celebration is the winter or summer festival, which lasts up to a month and two weeks.
Meanwhile, back at the celebration of Life, which involved Rhaya’s birth. Derrick was mingling with his friends, while his wife was relaxing after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl, while chatting with some of her best friends. The birth went really smoothly like the Tempest herself was watching over them. It’s not a god or anything but how nature can be really gentle until it turns into a raging storm. It’s the Claire’s family crest, a tornado with a sword through it to signify the wrath of the winds are the worst kind of thing to deal with.
Derrick outright hated rumors of any kind that slandered the Claire Noble Family name or the Vaira Royal Family name. Since these two families were even closer than the Parleth and Tver families are to the Claire family. The rumor was that the Queen Selina L. Vaira would invoke the wrath of the tempest and cause a calamity on the entire town and it would be wiped out. The people who were spreading those rumors were people who weren’t from the village at all, but everyone is welcome at any of their celebrations. Derrick couldn’t make a scene since Selina was there to quash the rumors with a warm hearted speech and led her people in continuing the celebration.
Derrick celebrated Queen Selina with a cheer and toast for that wonderful leadership speech even though she’s not much of a fighter, since she’s a straight up pacifist and the descendant of King Drake L. Vaira. The celebration abruptly stopped because the Claire family don’t really like week long celebrations even though it is a tradition within the town, but usually the only two families to stop a celebration are the Vaira Royal Family and the Claire Noble Family. Queen Selina talked to her ancestors staunchest of allies in their home after the celebration and told them congrats in their baby girl and hopeful she will be as good as them with swords.
The two parents were happy to hear Selina’s congratulations and hopeful they will keep their sword training going within their family. Derrick looked at Selina, with a stern look and wanted to say something.
“I must ask you an important question, what about your daughter Selina?” Derrick asked.
“She’s doing well, she continuing her studies in how to be a proper princess, even though she’s pretty much. Alike your wife most of the time of the day when she’s not training herself in getting stronger or other things,” Selina said, happily.
“Oh that’s nice Selina, anything we can do to help her out?” Derrick asked, with the look on his face.
“Oh the entry into the Drake’s Female Academy would help but she’s a bit off from that since the age to join a military-esque academy to become apart of is around 13 years old,” Selina said, with a happy smile.
Darcy looked a bit curiously towards Selina and wondered how old the daughter to the queen is, right now. “I could give her an aptitude test to see if she could get in earlier, we are always looking for new recruits to the your ancestor’s academy. If she has any innate talent and skill with a weapon that is and her elemental aptitude test too,” Darcy said, happily always wanting to give everyone a chance to get in since her ancestor was the one in charge of aptitude tests back in the day.
Selina looked surprised and forgot about the Claire family’s talent in seeing talent and innate abilities in others. “Ah yeah, my daughter Sarah Isis Vaira will be happy to meet her most favorite of the Grand Valkyrie Squadron, nicknamed Windbreaker,” Selina said, with a laugh when she said that.
Darcy looked down when she heard her nickname she gained while being a Grand Valkyrie, it took a toll on her love life for a long time. “I will be grateful to meet your daughter Selina,” Darcy said kindly to the queen of the city.
Selina got up and smiled at Darcy with her response. “I look forward to seeing my daughter happy,” Selina said happily. She waves goodbye to Darcy and Derrick and goes back to the Royal Family’s Castle called the Drake’s Grand Palace in honor of her ancestor.
Derrick looks towards his wife with a bit of a smile. “It is nice, we were able to speak to Selina in our most happy time,” Derrick said. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the fact he’s finally alone with his wife.
Darcy giggled at what he said, but couldn’t help but wonder how Rhaya will grow up within their noble house. After that the two parents went to bed, and made sure their baby girl was sleeping soundly.
Rhaya’s 2nd year birthday was pretty auspicious and nothing really out of the ordinary until the dreadful news. Her mother heard from one of the Claire’s personal guards, that the unthinkable happened. Darcy was utterly devastated to hear her beloved husband was killed in action. She always wondered why her husband never took his sword with him, Rock, the Iron Shortsword. He would have still been alive if he took his weapon with him.
Rhaya was too young to remember her father’s face and was always near her mother, always. She couldn’t really understand what was happening and why her mother was crying about. She has never seen her mother this devastated in her life. She tried to cheer up her mother by saying, “Mom, please don’t be sad you still have me.”
Darcy looked at Rhaya when she said those words and she awed at her daughter. “I will cherish you always, Rhaya,” Darcy said. She couldn’t help but want to find out who killed her husband but if she does that, who will take care of her daughter if she dies. Darcy sighed slightly resigning herself to being a single parent to a little girl that is going to be her focus in making her the best of the Claire Family. Darcy hugged her daughter tightly and didn’t want to let her go because she was still crying at the fact her husband is now dead.
Rhaya loved her mother with all her heart, she wanted to stay in her mother’s arms for all eternity since she felt safe with Darcy. She was a kind and gentle little girl and was happy in her mother’s arms. Darcy put her daughter down and walked her daughter to her room and tucked her into her bed.
Darcy looked at her sweet two year old daughter, who she just tucked in bed. “Please go to sleep I need to talk to the soldier who gave me the news,” Darcy said to her daughter.
Rhaya looked at her mother with a slight worry in her face, but she nodded her head and went to sleep.
Darcy walked back into the kitchen, where she learned of her husband’s death and talked to the personal guard that told her of the terrible news to tell all the other noble families and the Royal Family immediately. After that, Darcy went to her bedroom to cry herself to sleep, since she couldn’t really handle herself in public, at least her leave of absence was known by all of the academy students within Drake’s Female Academy.
Rhaya was too young to remember her father’s face and was always near her mother, always. She couldn’t really understand what was happening and why her mother was crying about. She has never seen her mother this devastated in her life. She tried to cheer up her mother by saying, “Mom, please don’t be sad you still have me.”
Darcy looked at Rhaya when she said those words and she awed at her daughter. “I will cherish you always, Rhaya,” Darcy said. She couldn’t help but want to find out who killed her husband but if she does that, who will take care of her daughter if she dies. Darcy sighed slightly resigning herself to being a single parent to a little girl that is going to be her focus in making her the best of the Claire Family. Darcy hugged her daughter tightly and didn’t want to let her go because she was still crying at the fact her husband is now dead.
Rhaya loved her mother with all her heart, she wanted to stay in her mother’s arms for all eternity since she felt safe with Darcy. She was a kind and gentle little girl and was happy in her mother’s arms. Darcy put her daughter down and walked her daughter to her room and tucked her into her bed.
Darcy looked at her sweet two year old daughter, who she just tucked in bed. “Please go to sleep I need to talk to the soldier who gave me the news,” Darcy said to her daughter.
Rhaya looked at her mother with a slight worry in her face, but she nodded her head and went to sleep.
Darcy walked back into the kitchen, where she learned of her husband’s death and talked to the personal guard that told her of the terrible news to tell all the other noble families and the Royal Family immediately. After that, Darcy went to her bedroom to cry herself to sleep, since she couldn’t really handle herself in public, at least her leave of absence was known by all of the academy students within Drake’s Female Academy.
Darcy saw something within her child Rhaya, and she was only seven years old at the time. She outright asked, “Rhaya dear do you want to go to, Drake’s Female Academy?” She wanted to see if her intuition was right about her daughter, that she was unbelievably talented and to especially see, if she can use wind magic too.
Rhaya confusedly asked since she was only seven years old at the time, “What is the Drake’s Female Academy?” She didn’t really know it was the prestigious Fortress Academy for any female that wants to try their luck at being apart of the Grand Valkyrie Squadron.
Darcy smiled kindly at her daughter and breathed in and out for a second and looked directly into her eyes. “I’m the headmistress there, Rhaya. The Drake’s Female Academy is were girls like you learn how to defend yourself from the wilderness and join the lustrous Grand Valkyrie Squadron,” Darcy said, happily.
Rhaya heard what her mother said and smiled at what her mother said. “I will go with you mother. To see what it is about,” Rhaya said, happily not wanting to disappoint her mother.
Darcy had a smile come across her face when she heard her daughter say those words, it filled her with joy. “Oh okay, let’s go, I will take you there myself by horseback,” Darcy said. She took her daughter’s hand and walked her outside of the home to the stables and helped her up on the horse. She looked at her daughter, who was holding on to the horse. “Are you okay dear?” Darcy asked.
Rhaya looked to her mother who asked that question and smiled kindly. “Mom, I am okay as long as I am with you,” Rhaya said, showing her affection for her mother much. Even though, the horse in question was very calm with Rhaya on it.
Darcy got onto the horse, in front of her daughter and looked down at her. “Hold onto me, it’ll be a pretty long ride to Drake’s Female Academy,” Darcy said, calmly. Rhaya does what she is told and holds onto her mother tightly. Darcy starts moving the horse to get going as fast as possible towards the Drake’s Female Academy.
Darcy and her daughter arrived at the Drake’s Female Academy around mid-afternoon, while the academy students were doing drills and eating, while taking a small break from drills. She always goes to her best friend, Vashti to help her most of the time on important tasks like this specific one anyway. Darcy took her daughter to Vashti quickly, since she hasn’t really seen her in awhile but she was busy.
“Vashti are you there?” Darcy asked, with a slight rushed tone in her voice.
Vashti was reading a book and heard Darcy’s question and smiled towards her and noticed Rhaya in Darcy’s arms. “Aww, you brought your daughter, is there a reason for this?” Vashti asked curiously.
Rhaya looked at her mother and then at Vashti with a smile. “Mommy says I have some innate talent,” Rhaya said, with a smile. She didn’t really understand what’s going on but she loves her mother a lot.
Vashti smiled at the child and looked towards Darcy with a bit of a crazy look, since she could see the talent flowing through her alike a small river flowing through her of wind magic and some other forms innate talent. “Yeah, your daughter is definitely alike you Darcy it seems like you raised her correctly. Would probably be a good idea to initiate her into the Academy,” Vashti said happily.
Darcy smiled happily and looked to her daughter. “You want to join the Academy with your mother as headmistress?” Darcy asked her daughter.
Rhaya looked at her mother with a smile on her face. “As long, you are here I will be here,” Rhaya said, happily.
It happened just like, the Claire Family’s had the rank of headmistress and the youngest child, within the Academy. However, her mother didn’t know of her daughter’s problems as of yet, and would have to deal with them as time went on, but that is as much as what will happen in this story as of now.
Rhaya confusedly asked since she was only seven years old at the time, “What is the Drake’s Female Academy?” She didn’t really know it was the prestigious Fortress Academy for any female that wants to try their luck at being apart of the Grand Valkyrie Squadron.
Darcy smiled kindly at her daughter and breathed in and out for a second and looked directly into her eyes. “I’m the headmistress there, Rhaya. The Drake’s Female Academy is were girls like you learn how to defend yourself from the wilderness and join the lustrous Grand Valkyrie Squadron,” Darcy said, happily.
Rhaya heard what her mother said and smiled at what her mother said. “I will go with you mother. To see what it is about,” Rhaya said, happily not wanting to disappoint her mother.
Darcy had a smile come across her face when she heard her daughter say those words, it filled her with joy. “Oh okay, let’s go, I will take you there myself by horseback,” Darcy said. She took her daughter’s hand and walked her outside of the home to the stables and helped her up on the horse. She looked at her daughter, who was holding on to the horse. “Are you okay dear?” Darcy asked.
Rhaya looked to her mother who asked that question and smiled kindly. “Mom, I am okay as long as I am with you,” Rhaya said, showing her affection for her mother much. Even though, the horse in question was very calm with Rhaya on it.
Darcy got onto the horse, in front of her daughter and looked down at her. “Hold onto me, it’ll be a pretty long ride to Drake’s Female Academy,” Darcy said, calmly. Rhaya does what she is told and holds onto her mother tightly. Darcy starts moving the horse to get going as fast as possible towards the Drake’s Female Academy.
Darcy and her daughter arrived at the Drake’s Female Academy around mid-afternoon, while the academy students were doing drills and eating, while taking a small break from drills. She always goes to her best friend, Vashti to help her most of the time on important tasks like this specific one anyway. Darcy took her daughter to Vashti quickly, since she hasn’t really seen her in awhile but she was busy.
“Vashti are you there?” Darcy asked, with a slight rushed tone in her voice.
Vashti was reading a book and heard Darcy’s question and smiled towards her and noticed Rhaya in Darcy’s arms. “Aww, you brought your daughter, is there a reason for this?” Vashti asked curiously.
Rhaya looked at her mother and then at Vashti with a smile. “Mommy says I have some innate talent,” Rhaya said, with a smile. She didn’t really understand what’s going on but she loves her mother a lot.
Vashti smiled at the child and looked towards Darcy with a bit of a crazy look, since she could see the talent flowing through her alike a small river flowing through her of wind magic and some other forms innate talent. “Yeah, your daughter is definitely alike you Darcy it seems like you raised her correctly. Would probably be a good idea to initiate her into the Academy,” Vashti said happily.
Darcy smiled happily and looked to her daughter. “You want to join the Academy with your mother as headmistress?” Darcy asked her daughter.
Rhaya looked at her mother with a smile on her face. “As long, you are here I will be here,” Rhaya said, happily.
It happened just like, the Claire Family’s had the rank of headmistress and the youngest child, within the Academy. However, her mother didn’t know of her daughter’s problems as of yet, and would have to deal with them as time went on, but that is as much as what will happen in this story as of now.
She decided on her own to leave her hometown of Vaira Stars to become something greater and she left when she was 13 years old. She had a small contingent of soldiers traveling with her to Cosmos City. These soldiers were loyal to the Claire Family and wanted to protect the daughter of Darcy and the Late Derrick, who died when his daughter was only two years old. The journey was on horseback, with these soldiers since it would probably taken longer on foot to reach Cosmos City.
Six of the eight soldiers were from the Claire Family guard, while the other two on either side of Rhaya, were Elite Royal Guard from the King’s personal regiment of guards. The King didn’t want anything bad to happen to Rhaya Lyn Claire since she’s not old enough to carry a child yet. And the future of Claire Family is at stake if Rhaya dies before reaching Cosmos City. The closest allies to the Vaira Royal Family requires to continue their family tree, which is considered the Claire Noble Family.
Being a high noble of the Vaira Stars Kingdom gives her much lead way, since the sway of the Claire Family hasn’t ever been waning. She wanted to learn more about the world in the most simplest way possible by leaving her hometown. She learned of the House Clementine, which is in the Great City of Cosmos City from Vashti Isis Perleth. Vashti’s younger brother Steven went to Cosmos City to learn about how to properly protect his hometown via disappearing for five years until returning to cast a barrier spell. And that’s most of the Barrier users were taught by this house for generations, which lives in Cosmos City.
She wanted to learn how to use barriers herself, even though she is very naturally attuned to her family’s wind magic. She couldn’t help to meet new people and hopeful she could get behind a noble cause or two while she’s in Cosmos City, to help out the Vaira Stars Kingdom and any other cities. She couldn’t help if she was missing something or anything important.
Six of the eight soldiers were from the Claire Family guard, while the other two on either side of Rhaya, were Elite Royal Guard from the King’s personal regiment of guards. The King didn’t want anything bad to happen to Rhaya Lyn Claire since she’s not old enough to carry a child yet. And the future of Claire Family is at stake if Rhaya dies before reaching Cosmos City. The closest allies to the Vaira Royal Family requires to continue their family tree, which is considered the Claire Noble Family.
Being a high noble of the Vaira Stars Kingdom gives her much lead way, since the sway of the Claire Family hasn’t ever been waning. She wanted to learn more about the world in the most simplest way possible by leaving her hometown. She learned of the House Clementine, which is in the Great City of Cosmos City from Vashti Isis Perleth. Vashti’s younger brother Steven went to Cosmos City to learn about how to properly protect his hometown via disappearing for five years until returning to cast a barrier spell. And that’s most of the Barrier users were taught by this house for generations, which lives in Cosmos City.
She wanted to learn how to use barriers herself, even though she is very naturally attuned to her family’s wind magic. She couldn’t help to meet new people and hopeful she could get behind a noble cause or two while she’s in Cosmos City, to help out the Vaira Stars Kingdom and any other cities. She couldn’t help if she was missing something or anything important.
Arrival:
Rhaya’s arrival to Cosmos City had only a few bumps along the way. The biggest one was running into a bandit group, that tried to stop Rhaya and the eight personal guards that were assigned to her traveling to the city. The bandits in question were outnumbered but they had an advantage, they knew the area very well. The leader of the bandits was a slightly older than Rhaya in age, and the same gender as her. Her fiery spirit was pretty much able to stop the highly trained and skilled Vaira Stars noblemen and child in their tracks.
“Oh lookie here, the elitists who destroyed the Fallen Stars Bandits, about 350 years ago,” She said, with a slight hatred of anyone being apart of the Vaira Stars Kingdom.
One of the Soldiers, eyed her and she has a shocking resemblance to Queen Selina & Princess Sarah. “You look eerily like our queen and royal princess,” He said, with a determined look in his face.
“Wait, my ancestor’s line still lives?” She said, with a slight realization, that her ancestor’s line wasn’t destroyed alike so many others within the Fallen Stars Bandits. She couldn’t really believe it, the Fallen name is still alive and well and started to cry. “Please, can me and my band of bandits follow you we will help you get to whatever destination is,” She said, with a defeated tone in her voice.
The soldier in question, stopped his wanting to kill her, and didn’t know that Stella R. Fallen had a sister, and they stayed bandits this whole time. “Rhaya, what says you? Will you allow Stella R. Fallen’s descendant to follow us,” He said, trying to get Rhaya’s attention.
Rhaya was staring at the girl in question, when she heard the personal guard of hers voice. “She can come, but on one single condition. What’s your name?” Rhaya asked the redheaded girl in question.
The redheaded girl looked directly towards Rhaya with the same fiery passion. “Just my name? My name is Sasha Edna Fallen, with the last remnants of what you could say, was the reinforcements of the Fallen Star Bandits but arrived after the bloodbath that occurred all those years ago,” Sasha said, with resolve in her voice. She looked her fellow bandits, and they put away their weapons since she didn’t want any more blood to be spilled because of bad blood between anyone who was a member of the Fallen Stars Bandits and Vaira Stars. She put away her two daggers back into their seethe since they were in her hands, they were put back really quickly.
The Soldier that talked noticed the bandits were seething their weapons and couldn’t help smile, since they never knew the Fallen Stars Bandits had two forces in question. “Oh okay, if you have horses, we will allow you to travel with us, since we are going to Cosmos City. I guess since you don’t go near the Great Cities you aren’t very well known bandits, since there’s only a total of 5 of you,” He said, with a booming voice.
Sasha annoyingly sighed hearing they are going to Cosmos City for one, and for two that the soldier talking is very bossy, though she did like how Rhaya looks, she couldn’t help but smile. “You sir are very bossy, but we do have horses, and we aren’t even on the radar of Cosmos City. Mostly since your Great King Drake, annihilated the Fallen Stars Bandits in those bandit wars all those years ago. So yeah, back in the day, I think any Great City would sound the alarm if we came close to them, but not so much now,” Sasha said, while blushing while staring at Rhaya.
The Soldier, noticed Sasha blushing while she’s staring at Rhaya. “Rhaya, looks like you’ve gained another admirer, be more alert this time around so the same thing doesn’t happen to you again,” He said, in the same bossy tone with a big bellowing laugh.
Rhaya looked at her noble family’s personal guard and friend of the family. She looked directly towards Sasha and it was directly on her face plain as day, Rhaya started to blush a bit mostly because she is trying to be a bit more alert but enjoys the attention from people. “U-Uhh, thanks for the warning soldier. I am grateful to you for helping me reach my destination, Sasha,” Rhaya said, with her looking down at her horse because she’s somewhat embarrassed.
Sasha listened to every word that Rhaya and the bossy soldier was talking about and couldn’t really put her finger on it. “You are kinda losing me but I guess that’s what nobles have that I don’t the know how of what’s going on in your hometown, since I am just a bandit. Who roughs it out in the wilderness,” Sasha said, with a confused look on her face.
The soldiers just laugh at Sasha’s ignorance and start moving ahead of them, with Rhaya still in the middle. Rhaya looks carefully at Sasha and waves at her while they move past her. “You better hurry Sasha, or these soldiers will leave you behind,” Rhaya said, with a smile on her face.
Sasha looked at the other four and they walked towards a nearby tree, that had one white mare, which was Sasha’s, and four black horses. She got on her horse and rode in front of the soldiers. “I know a shorter route to Cosmos City, it’ll cut down on your travels by a bit, don’t know how much time will be saved,” Sasha said with a renewed determination in her voice. Because she knows this area like the back of her hand since she travels to the great cities much, because of her family’s need of supplies.
One of the Soldiers look at Sasha with an annoyed look on his face. “If it is shorter than the route we will be taking, so be it,” He said, with an annoyed tone in his voice.
Rhaya looked down trying not to intervene since she still has problems with public speaking. Even when there’s soldiers around, and someone else joining in that’s much more confident in public speaking. She got frustrated and looked a bit angry. “Can we just go, without all the bickering by the way?” Rhaya asked, with a slight angry tone of voice but she’s still a child so she didn’t want to curse.
The Soldiers heard the angry tone in the girl and stopped chatting since they constantly push her buttons pretty easily as it is. It’s very good to figure out what she isn’t good at, she is an open book to anyone that looks at her. An emotional wreck in some people’s eyes that don’t really know her that well, but getting to know her is pretty enduring of a trait after all.
Rhaya’s group was traveling at a faster pace than they could’ve done, with the help of Sasha that is. It cut down their so called year journey down a bit, and Rhaya arrived in Cosmos City around 7 months into their journey from their supposed. She could see the barrier, that she more or less took for granted in her hometown, and there was different colors present here than her hometown as well.
She was escorted with the 8 guards all the way to House Clementine. The lead guard speaks in a firm tone, “Rhaya we are here at the destination you seek, the House Clementine, we saw from some people in this town don’t really like this house you sought for. We didn’t really asked why, because the eight of us kinda look dangerous to say the least and have a different way of life to these people in the Great City. We should return to Vaira Stars Kingdom to report on our journey to your mother and the King, that our task is done.” He turns around slowly, and is happy that their journey is done sooner than expected at least.
Rhaya looked at the guard who was walking away, she didn’t really know what to say, to the people inside but she decided to walk, into the home and was greeted by a elderly woman, that entered the room. “I have to ask, are you the matron of this house?” Rhaya asked, kindly towards the elderly woman in question.
Gertrude gently smiled at the young girl, who looked around 14 years old. “Yes, my name is Gertrude, what’s yours?” Gertrude asked kindly.
Rhaya smiled at finally meeting Gertrude for the first time, since she heard wonderful things about her from Vashti, that told the story of her younger brother. “My name is Rhaya Lyn Claire, a noble of Vaira Stars,” Rhaya said, with a smile.
Gertrude wondered why this child was here. “Why are you here child?” Gertrude asked with a smile.
Rhaya just couldn’t help but smile at that question. “I want to see the world more than living in my hometown. And I came to learn and meet new people, since I know everyone of Vaira Stars. I am pretty naive of the world around me and I want to help in anyway I can,” Rhaya said, proudly.
Gertrude smiled at the child’s answer to her question. “You can stay here as long as you want or need to since you are probably tired on your journey,” Gertrude said.
Rhaya smiled kindly to Gertrude and sat down her pack finally after a long travel time, that had very little breaks in between of traveling from Vaira Stars to Cosmos City. She stretched and she definitely enjoyed seeing new things, while her home in Vaira Stars will always be her home. She walked over to one of the chairs and sat down and fell asleep. She was a lot more tired than she should’ve been.
Gertrude gently placed a blanket on Rhaya to make sure she’s comfortable. She put Rhaya’s things near her, just to hope she wakes up a bit more well rested, and she walked back to her room to rest.
“Oh lookie here, the elitists who destroyed the Fallen Stars Bandits, about 350 years ago,” She said, with a slight hatred of anyone being apart of the Vaira Stars Kingdom.
One of the Soldiers, eyed her and she has a shocking resemblance to Queen Selina & Princess Sarah. “You look eerily like our queen and royal princess,” He said, with a determined look in his face.
“Wait, my ancestor’s line still lives?” She said, with a slight realization, that her ancestor’s line wasn’t destroyed alike so many others within the Fallen Stars Bandits. She couldn’t really believe it, the Fallen name is still alive and well and started to cry. “Please, can me and my band of bandits follow you we will help you get to whatever destination is,” She said, with a defeated tone in her voice.
The soldier in question, stopped his wanting to kill her, and didn’t know that Stella R. Fallen had a sister, and they stayed bandits this whole time. “Rhaya, what says you? Will you allow Stella R. Fallen’s descendant to follow us,” He said, trying to get Rhaya’s attention.
Rhaya was staring at the girl in question, when she heard the personal guard of hers voice. “She can come, but on one single condition. What’s your name?” Rhaya asked the redheaded girl in question.
The redheaded girl looked directly towards Rhaya with the same fiery passion. “Just my name? My name is Sasha Edna Fallen, with the last remnants of what you could say, was the reinforcements of the Fallen Star Bandits but arrived after the bloodbath that occurred all those years ago,” Sasha said, with resolve in her voice. She looked her fellow bandits, and they put away their weapons since she didn’t want any more blood to be spilled because of bad blood between anyone who was a member of the Fallen Stars Bandits and Vaira Stars. She put away her two daggers back into their seethe since they were in her hands, they were put back really quickly.
The Soldier that talked noticed the bandits were seething their weapons and couldn’t help smile, since they never knew the Fallen Stars Bandits had two forces in question. “Oh okay, if you have horses, we will allow you to travel with us, since we are going to Cosmos City. I guess since you don’t go near the Great Cities you aren’t very well known bandits, since there’s only a total of 5 of you,” He said, with a booming voice.
Sasha annoyingly sighed hearing they are going to Cosmos City for one, and for two that the soldier talking is very bossy, though she did like how Rhaya looks, she couldn’t help but smile. “You sir are very bossy, but we do have horses, and we aren’t even on the radar of Cosmos City. Mostly since your Great King Drake, annihilated the Fallen Stars Bandits in those bandit wars all those years ago. So yeah, back in the day, I think any Great City would sound the alarm if we came close to them, but not so much now,” Sasha said, while blushing while staring at Rhaya.
The Soldier, noticed Sasha blushing while she’s staring at Rhaya. “Rhaya, looks like you’ve gained another admirer, be more alert this time around so the same thing doesn’t happen to you again,” He said, in the same bossy tone with a big bellowing laugh.
Rhaya looked at her noble family’s personal guard and friend of the family. She looked directly towards Sasha and it was directly on her face plain as day, Rhaya started to blush a bit mostly because she is trying to be a bit more alert but enjoys the attention from people. “U-Uhh, thanks for the warning soldier. I am grateful to you for helping me reach my destination, Sasha,” Rhaya said, with her looking down at her horse because she’s somewhat embarrassed.
Sasha listened to every word that Rhaya and the bossy soldier was talking about and couldn’t really put her finger on it. “You are kinda losing me but I guess that’s what nobles have that I don’t the know how of what’s going on in your hometown, since I am just a bandit. Who roughs it out in the wilderness,” Sasha said, with a confused look on her face.
The soldiers just laugh at Sasha’s ignorance and start moving ahead of them, with Rhaya still in the middle. Rhaya looks carefully at Sasha and waves at her while they move past her. “You better hurry Sasha, or these soldiers will leave you behind,” Rhaya said, with a smile on her face.
Sasha looked at the other four and they walked towards a nearby tree, that had one white mare, which was Sasha’s, and four black horses. She got on her horse and rode in front of the soldiers. “I know a shorter route to Cosmos City, it’ll cut down on your travels by a bit, don’t know how much time will be saved,” Sasha said with a renewed determination in her voice. Because she knows this area like the back of her hand since she travels to the great cities much, because of her family’s need of supplies.
One of the Soldiers look at Sasha with an annoyed look on his face. “If it is shorter than the route we will be taking, so be it,” He said, with an annoyed tone in his voice.
Rhaya looked down trying not to intervene since she still has problems with public speaking. Even when there’s soldiers around, and someone else joining in that’s much more confident in public speaking. She got frustrated and looked a bit angry. “Can we just go, without all the bickering by the way?” Rhaya asked, with a slight angry tone of voice but she’s still a child so she didn’t want to curse.
The Soldiers heard the angry tone in the girl and stopped chatting since they constantly push her buttons pretty easily as it is. It’s very good to figure out what she isn’t good at, she is an open book to anyone that looks at her. An emotional wreck in some people’s eyes that don’t really know her that well, but getting to know her is pretty enduring of a trait after all.
Rhaya’s group was traveling at a faster pace than they could’ve done, with the help of Sasha that is. It cut down their so called year journey down a bit, and Rhaya arrived in Cosmos City around 7 months into their journey from their supposed. She could see the barrier, that she more or less took for granted in her hometown, and there was different colors present here than her hometown as well.
She was escorted with the 8 guards all the way to House Clementine. The lead guard speaks in a firm tone, “Rhaya we are here at the destination you seek, the House Clementine, we saw from some people in this town don’t really like this house you sought for. We didn’t really asked why, because the eight of us kinda look dangerous to say the least and have a different way of life to these people in the Great City. We should return to Vaira Stars Kingdom to report on our journey to your mother and the King, that our task is done.” He turns around slowly, and is happy that their journey is done sooner than expected at least.
Rhaya looked at the guard who was walking away, she didn’t really know what to say, to the people inside but she decided to walk, into the home and was greeted by a elderly woman, that entered the room. “I have to ask, are you the matron of this house?” Rhaya asked, kindly towards the elderly woman in question.
Gertrude gently smiled at the young girl, who looked around 14 years old. “Yes, my name is Gertrude, what’s yours?” Gertrude asked kindly.
Rhaya smiled at finally meeting Gertrude for the first time, since she heard wonderful things about her from Vashti, that told the story of her younger brother. “My name is Rhaya Lyn Claire, a noble of Vaira Stars,” Rhaya said, with a smile.
Gertrude wondered why this child was here. “Why are you here child?” Gertrude asked with a smile.
Rhaya just couldn’t help but smile at that question. “I want to see the world more than living in my hometown. And I came to learn and meet new people, since I know everyone of Vaira Stars. I am pretty naive of the world around me and I want to help in anyway I can,” Rhaya said, proudly.
Gertrude smiled at the child’s answer to her question. “You can stay here as long as you want or need to since you are probably tired on your journey,” Gertrude said.
Rhaya smiled kindly to Gertrude and sat down her pack finally after a long travel time, that had very little breaks in between of traveling from Vaira Stars to Cosmos City. She stretched and she definitely enjoyed seeing new things, while her home in Vaira Stars will always be her home. She walked over to one of the chairs and sat down and fell asleep. She was a lot more tired than she should’ve been.
Gertrude gently placed a blanket on Rhaya to make sure she’s comfortable. She put Rhaya’s things near her, just to hope she wakes up a bit more well rested, and she walked back to her room to rest.
Rhaya was sitting at the table, when all the kids who were orphans walked up to her and told her about their plan to save Gertrude to retrieve the golden set. She looked at them with a bit of awe and wanted to help them since these five long months being with them made her want to help in anyway possible. “I will help Granny Gertrude, she is like a second motherly figure to me,” Rhaya said, kindly and a gentle smile.
Theme Song:
Battle Music:
Misc:
Her mother is the prettiest and scariest person you would ever come across, even her style is unique in the way she fights. Rhaya carries a small photo of how her mother looks like for some odd reason in her pack. Rhaya loves her mother even though they usually gets into fights with each other mostly because of her lack of wanting to become a leader. She wants to do other things besides leading the Grand Valkyrie Squadron.
Polaris North How I Socially Interact
Member
Seen
16 days ago
Age: 16
Species: Human
Description: Francis lets out a noble aura, as was taught to him ever since he was a child. Standing straight and confident, his strides are long and sure. His movements are graceful but precise. There is nothing in his body language that would reflect the insecurities within. The expression on his face when he isn't with anyone is usually just a neutral face plastered on - often seen as bored or lonely. It is reminiscent of a look that someone has when he's mourning, or when he's remembering something that can be considered as 'sad' or a 'horrible' memory.
Francis has silver hair that is obviously well-maintained and this soft, fluffy hair is often associated with his family, a trait passed down from one generation to the next regardless of gender. He has golden eyes that he often cursed because of its meaning to the Breaux, a curse - the start of their disaster. He isn't fond of people paying attention to it and is likely the reason why he only passes a mirror with only a glimpse because of how much he hates it. "But why hate something so beautiful?" And they watched as the golden eyes turned dark, the beautiful now marred by years of hate and spite.
Francis's clothing is something special, but ever since he has been taken in as an orphan, it has dialed down. A beige shirt and black riding pants with his saber to his side. He does have a blue regal coat that he has with him ever since he came to the orphanage, which was tailored with magic so that it grew with him. Though he seems to be comfortable in any form of clothing you could throw at him - whether it be for royalty or for a commoner. As he would ofen say, as long as he is clothed and is warm during the cold seasons, then it is fine. He always wears black gloves.
Francis stands at a height of 5'10" and weighs around 160 lbs which he carries well. He has a lithe body type, fitting for his fighting style of a fencer. Though underneath all the clothing, it wasn't noticeable. He moves gracefully with a sword in hand, practicing every motion. Even in a fight, he never loses composure - the calm and cold look on his face still ever present. Makes you think if he would still have that face when he's finally facing the same things that have haunted his dreams ever since.
"Do you enjoy watching me train?" His voice is melodius, the type of voice that you'd like to listen to even if they're reading off the phonebook. It's charming, captivating and alluring. But something was terribly wrong. The emotions that he's trying to show in his face wasn't being reflected in his voice. It was as if he was still stuck in his training mindset, or perhaps his voice does completely reflect what is inside. An empty voice for an empty shell, fitting isn't it?
~ Persona ~
Strengths - Anyone who has known Francis for more than a month would come to know that he is a hardworking person. He is guaranteed to do a task with everything he's got, exerting his full effort into anything that he must do. That's just how he is and he doesn't like leaving things half-done. It must be perfect, if not at the very least well-done. After all, if you must do something, might as well do it perfectly right? He doesn't doubt that many call him a perfectionist and he doesn't exactly say anything to refute this.
He doesn't let many things bother him, or at least it doesn't bother him anymore. He's just... passive. He doesn't care if someone insults him or someone gets angry at him unless they are close to him. Francis just doesn't feel or care as much as he did back when he was with his family. There's little chance to evoke some sort of anger in him unless you know the specific buttons to push. This attitude has led to him being calm and collected in almost every situation because he's not bothered by the emotions that would often be tapped into when trying to goad someone into a fight.
Once Francis becomes attached or has bonded with someone, he can be protective. While you won't say he would be seen as your typical caring person, he keeps an eye out for those people. He does little things that they like, often going as far as making them something that he thinks they will appreciate. This is how you will know if he's begun to see someone as his friend. He is silent about these sort of feelings so you wouldn't hear him saying that someone is his friend.
Flaws - A perfectionist through and through, Francis doesn't like it when something is done incorrectly or when people do something without even putting an effort in it. He will do it himself if he knows that the other can't do it properly. You will never see him putting anything less than 100%, and he expects others to do so as well.
As explained, Francis doesn't express his emotions very well. After a particularly traumatizing experience, he detached himself from these emotions. He doesn't want to go through the emotional pain he went through before, so he closed that side of him as a need. As a form of protection. This was a bad coping mechanism but it was one he got. He hasn't told any single one of his fellow orphans about this. He isn't sure if people have caught on, but he hasn't told anyone about his past either.
If you can get Francis angry, then it's assured that he would blow up to the point where he might kill someone. There are certain buttons you could push, such as mentioning something bad about his family - adoptive or otherwise. It's hard to get Francis to calm down when he enters this state. You could say that he goes berserk. He hasn't shown this side of him to the other orphans since no one knows what actual buttons to push.
Neutral - Francis enjoys reading books in silence, but can often be bothered to put his book down. In terms of hobbies, he likes fencing or any form of swordplay as well as playing certain instruments such as the piano and the violin. When he isn't doing anything and one of these instruments is nearby, he would prefer playing them rather than reading a book.
Had Francis not been orphaned at a young age, he would have made a fine pianist - which seemed to actually be his passion. If it wasn't a pianist, he would have made a fine craftsman too as his hobby is crafting wooden figures.
It's not that Francis doesn't like crowds and he doesn't mind talking with others, but he prefers to be alone most of the time as it is less likely anyone would pry into his past this way. He doesn't like talking about himself, obviously. He hates being pressured into doing something he really doesn't like.
He often uses formal to semi-formal langauge since he doesn't know anthing else. There is a certain face that he makes - one with a lopsided smile - that he often dons when he is with the other orphans. While others think that this is one of those moments where he is just being polite, he is actually happy.
He fiddles with the hilt of his sheathed sabre when he's simply waiting around. When he's nervous, he has this odd habit of readjusting his gloves even though it's perfectly set on him.
Skills:
Diplomatic: Francis is of noble lineage and he was taught manythings - diplomancy among them. As he is not ruled by his emotions most of the time, Francis can keep a calm head during debates and actually wishes to settle things peacefully rather than by force.
Fencing: One of his many lessons involved fencing, which is his favorite lesson as he is able to move and protect himself. Francis is quite skilled in this art of swordplay, making use of both his lithe body to gracefully fight. Though many have thought that he would never be able to fight using only fencing, but he's been able to fend off quite a few fights using it.
Instrumentalist: Playing the piano and the violin is one of his favorite past times as his mother was the one to teach him this. He cna play them rather well. It's understandable as Francis was set to become a professional pianist.
Enchantment Aura Reading: When Enchanters start to learn how to use their magic, they begin to feel and eventually see the difference between normal objects and enchanted objects. They see enchanted objects with a different aura. As the Enchanter grows older, they would start to be able to discern the different types of enchantment. Currently, Francis is able to discern certain types of basic enchantments, but those that are above his level, he simply sees as a general enchantment.
Crafting: It was more of a hobby than anything but he got into making small things using a small knife and some wood. He first learned how to do it when he and his friends decided to go to town and found a woodcrafting shop. Ever since, he's began crafting when he's not doing anything and it soon became his hobby. He's become quite proficient in it and this is the form it usually takes when he gives gifts.
Memorization: Francis is a beast when it comes to memorizing. Just give him enough time with the information and he will know it word for word by heart. However, when he merely looks at things with one glance, he wouldn't be able to memorize its fine details.
Fencing: One of his many lessons involved fencing, which is his favorite lesson as he is able to move and protect himself. Francis is quite skilled in this art of swordplay, making use of both his lithe body to gracefully fight. Though many have thought that he would never be able to fight using only fencing, but he's been able to fend off quite a few fights using it.
Instrumentalist: Playing the piano and the violin is one of his favorite past times as his mother was the one to teach him this. He cna play them rather well. It's understandable as Francis was set to become a professional pianist.
Enchantment Aura Reading: When Enchanters start to learn how to use their magic, they begin to feel and eventually see the difference between normal objects and enchanted objects. They see enchanted objects with a different aura. As the Enchanter grows older, they would start to be able to discern the different types of enchantment. Currently, Francis is able to discern certain types of basic enchantments, but those that are above his level, he simply sees as a general enchantment.
Crafting: It was more of a hobby than anything but he got into making small things using a small knife and some wood. He first learned how to do it when he and his friends decided to go to town and found a woodcrafting shop. Ever since, he's began crafting when he's not doing anything and it soon became his hobby. He's become quite proficient in it and this is the form it usually takes when he gives gifts.
Memorization: Francis is a beast when it comes to memorizing. Just give him enough time with the information and he will know it word for word by heart. However, when he merely looks at things with one glance, he wouldn't be able to memorize its fine details.
~ Battle Profile ~
Focal Crystal: Crystal Obelisk - The Focus Crystal is akin to an amethyst in color, the color of his family. As expected, he always wears it and it is said that he never takes it off. Though how he came upon the Focal Crystal itself is unclear, the family took it upon themselves to put the Focal Crystal into a pendant. Francis feeds on the Focal Crystal by simply having it near him; hence why he's able to enchant without physically holding his crystal against the object he wishes to enchant.
Special Equipment:
Silver Pendant: It houses his Focal Crystal. It was specially made by his family for him as he had begun to study magic just before his family was torn apart.
The pendant resounds with the Focal Crystal and emits a light hum if ordered. This allows for the pendant to tap into the memories of the person being affected and show them their wonderful memories - memories from a time long past. Essentially, it is made to calm people down or to remind them of where they came from. Unfortunately for Francis, this meant that he would always see memories of his past, making it near unbearable when asleep and can't order the Focal Crystal to not do it. There must be verbal confirmation from the person being affected.
Enchanted Cloak: The cloak itself is something obviously made for nobility, even without the enchantment. Its fabric is top of the line - being both soft and comfortable for anyone who would wear it. It would insulate someone from the cold, but never get too hot that one would need to take it off during the summer. The coat has inside pockets for easy storage, like his spellbook and some small wooden figure he's trying to create.
Ability: The cloak was weaved with extreme precision and magic causing it to be sturdier than most. It also cleans itself and expands or shrinks depending on who is wearing the cloak. It is said to be tied to its first owner, but can be persuaded to serve another. When it serves its owner, it is much more sturdier and will do its hardest to protect them from damage. Francis is the cloak's current owner and it has served him well over the years.
It acts like a sort of chain mail, allowing for more defense against slashing and stabbing from normal weapons as well as some defense against blunt damage. However, it should be noted that well placed hits that the coat does not cover is an effective way to harm the user. The coat can still be damaged, of course, and will lose effectiveness after five well-placed heavy hits. It does gain back the enchantment after some rest time of not being hit.
The pendant resounds with the Focal Crystal and emits a light hum if ordered. This allows for the pendant to tap into the memories of the person being affected and show them their wonderful memories - memories from a time long past. Essentially, it is made to calm people down or to remind them of where they came from. Unfortunately for Francis, this meant that he would always see memories of his past, making it near unbearable when asleep and can't order the Focal Crystal to not do it. There must be verbal confirmation from the person being affected.
Enchanted Cloak: The cloak itself is something obviously made for nobility, even without the enchantment. Its fabric is top of the line - being both soft and comfortable for anyone who would wear it. It would insulate someone from the cold, but never get too hot that one would need to take it off during the summer. The coat has inside pockets for easy storage, like his spellbook and some small wooden figure he's trying to create.
Ability: The cloak was weaved with extreme precision and magic causing it to be sturdier than most. It also cleans itself and expands or shrinks depending on who is wearing the cloak. It is said to be tied to its first owner, but can be persuaded to serve another. When it serves its owner, it is much more sturdier and will do its hardest to protect them from damage. Francis is the cloak's current owner and it has served him well over the years.
It acts like a sort of chain mail, allowing for more defense against slashing and stabbing from normal weapons as well as some defense against blunt damage. However, it should be noted that well placed hits that the coat does not cover is an effective way to harm the user. The coat can still be damaged, of course, and will lose effectiveness after five well-placed heavy hits. It does gain back the enchantment after some rest time of not being hit.
Equipment:
Knapsack: As to be expected since they are heading out of the barriers, he decided that maybe carrying the satchel wouldn't be a bad idea. Just in case they needed something to be carried. Though it does contain some books about the various plants and monsters that was chronicled.
Books: Francis carries around two books: one about plants and herbs, and the other being about the animals and monsters that could have been jotted down. While he wished he could have brought more, he figured that it might just bog him down. Though he also carries around a blank notebook along with an inkwell and pen.
Crafting Tools: He carries around this small knife whose blade is as big as his pinky. While it can be dangerous if it punctures the throat, it really isn't used as a weapon. Instead, this small knife is used for wood crafting for Francis. He also has several small tools for fine crafting.
Wooden Token: No one is sure what this is or what its definite importance is and Francis doesn't tell anyone about it. It looks like it was made by a novice craftsman as it was simple, with an 'F' etched onto it. He also has another one with a 'C' etched on it.
Books: Francis carries around two books: one about plants and herbs, and the other being about the animals and monsters that could have been jotted down. While he wished he could have brought more, he figured that it might just bog him down. Though he also carries around a blank notebook along with an inkwell and pen.
Crafting Tools: He carries around this small knife whose blade is as big as his pinky. While it can be dangerous if it punctures the throat, it really isn't used as a weapon. Instead, this small knife is used for wood crafting for Francis. He also has several small tools for fine crafting.
Wooden Token: No one is sure what this is or what its definite importance is and Francis doesn't tell anyone about it. It looks like it was made by a novice craftsman as it was simple, with an 'F' etched onto it. He also has another one with a 'C' etched on it.
Weapon:
Silver Sabre: As the name suggests, it is a simple sabre that was forged by the Breaux Family for the usage of Francis. It is light, but durable. Magically compatible so that he may use the arcane arts to utilize it to its fullest potential. The symbol of the Breaux family - an Owl - can be seen on the hilt though Francis's hand usually covers this part.
Hunting Knife: Something he had grabbed as he was escaping. He's brought it along with him. He isn't sure how much it can do against monsters, but it serves as a lucky charm for him.
Hunting Knife: Something he had grabbed as he was escaping. He's brought it along with him. He isn't sure how much it can do against monsters, but it serves as a lucky charm for him.
Special Attack: N/A
~ Magic Profile ~
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: A simple brown colored book with sapphire spheres embedded onto it. There's nothing eye catching about it - unless you count the fact that it can change its size at the will of its owner. It can be as small as a pocketbook or as big as a normal-sized spellbook.
School of Focus: Enchantment Magic
Spells:
"If you wish to become an enchanter, understanding the phrases... the feelings of those who have used these spells before you, is the key to it being successful."
Fire Enchantment
"Telos Ignis"
When the fire of the heart burns, so shall your weapon against the demons shine.
One must have a fighting spirit to be able to fully take out this enchantment and perform it. The courage in one's heart to fight - for others or for yourself, it doesn't matter. As long as there is fighting spirit in their heart, the fire of the enchantment will ignite.
An enchantment that can be placed in any weapon so long as Francis can run his hand against it and he says the chant to activate it. It adds the element of fire to the blade for a minute, leaving burns when it strikes. The fire is magical in nature, burning any surface it can touch. It is entirely possible for any form of flammable gas to be ignited due to this flame. If not handled carefully, the magical fire may backfire against the user of the weapon so care must be placed when it is used.
Sharpening Enchantment
"Ferrum Aceres"
They say that keeping your wits sharp is all you need. I say keeping both weapon and wits keen will keep you a head above others.
The first user of this enchantment has been an excellent diplomat and duelist. It is not made to be arrogant, but something of a fact. Understanding this, it allows the enchanter to utilize the enchantment to its fullest. Enchanting a bladed weapon with the thought that it helps would fare better in terms of success than to think of it as simply harming something.
An enchantment that can be placed on any bladed weapon so long as Francis can touch the blade of the weapon he needs to enchant. It sharpens the blade to the point where it can cut through normal steel all too easily. This enchantment lasts for fifteen seconds. Of course, this also means that this blade will harm anything it comes in contact with. Care must be in mind when using a blade with this enchantment. You don't want to cut your arm off just because you thought showing off this temporarily enchanted blade was a good idea.
Durability Enchantment
"Vestitus Contego"
If you want to protect someone, you need to learn how to protect yourself first.
The enchantment was originally made by a young enchanter who wished to protect everyone she cared about. However, it soon became apparent that she was hurting herself. And so, to solidify this enchantment, she thought that it would also protect herself from harm. Understanding that this spell was to protect oneself so that they may be able to protect others is the key to making the enchantment work.
An enchantment placed on clothing or armor. Francis has to put his entire hand on the clothing or armor and then chant. It increases its ability to endure attacks and is not easily ripped or deformed. This enchantment lasts for one minute. It must be noted the blunt damage can still harm the wearer of an enchanted armor or clothing but it will lessen the damage. Say, it wouldn't kill you, but you may break some of your bones in the fall.
Torch
"Lumen Fax"
Lighting the way for others is a difficult job, but it is a job that we must all do for each other.
Ah yes, the most difficult challenge of all. Being the light to someone's life. The guide. The person who can help. No one is sure who made the enchantment. Some say it was a group, some say it was one person. Nevertheless, what you would need to remember with this enchantment is to always know that you can be someone's light, but you are also in need of someone to be your light.
Any object that is stick-like in form can be enchanted with this. It will emit light for over three minutes, essentially acting as a light source for when they need it the most. It can be reapplied for a lesser cost of mana but must be done before the light completely fades.
Bonding Enchantment
"Dictum Meum Pactum"
For who would know you better than the object you have come to love and care about? The one to protect you from the demons that reside within
It is known that any living being gets attached to something - sometimes they are other living beings, but sometimes they are simple objects to be seen around. Some would believe that these objects are capable of creating legitimate bonds with their owners. When the enchanter has bonded enough with an object, they can perform this enchatnment on it. The object must have some form of sentimental value with the object before the enchantment can be successful.
Francis can only make this enchantment for one object with sentimental value, in this case was his weaponry. When this enchantment is placed on an object, it bonds object to user in a sort of invisible chain. This enables the user to 'summon' the bonded object to their hand as long as they are in a four meter radius. However, it is completely useless when the object is farther away. This can be strengthened through the higher forms of this magic.
Lesser Spells
Fire Enchantment
"Telos Ignis"
When the fire of the heart burns, so shall your weapon against the demons shine.
One must have a fighting spirit to be able to fully take out this enchantment and perform it. The courage in one's heart to fight - for others or for yourself, it doesn't matter. As long as there is fighting spirit in their heart, the fire of the enchantment will ignite.
An enchantment that can be placed in any weapon so long as Francis can run his hand against it and he says the chant to activate it. It adds the element of fire to the blade for a minute, leaving burns when it strikes. The fire is magical in nature, burning any surface it can touch. It is entirely possible for any form of flammable gas to be ignited due to this flame. If not handled carefully, the magical fire may backfire against the user of the weapon so care must be placed when it is used.
Sharpening Enchantment
"Ferrum Aceres"
They say that keeping your wits sharp is all you need. I say keeping both weapon and wits keen will keep you a head above others.
The first user of this enchantment has been an excellent diplomat and duelist. It is not made to be arrogant, but something of a fact. Understanding this, it allows the enchanter to utilize the enchantment to its fullest. Enchanting a bladed weapon with the thought that it helps would fare better in terms of success than to think of it as simply harming something.
An enchantment that can be placed on any bladed weapon so long as Francis can touch the blade of the weapon he needs to enchant. It sharpens the blade to the point where it can cut through normal steel all too easily. This enchantment lasts for fifteen seconds. Of course, this also means that this blade will harm anything it comes in contact with. Care must be in mind when using a blade with this enchantment. You don't want to cut your arm off just because you thought showing off this temporarily enchanted blade was a good idea.
Durability Enchantment
"Vestitus Contego"
If you want to protect someone, you need to learn how to protect yourself first.
The enchantment was originally made by a young enchanter who wished to protect everyone she cared about. However, it soon became apparent that she was hurting herself. And so, to solidify this enchantment, she thought that it would also protect herself from harm. Understanding that this spell was to protect oneself so that they may be able to protect others is the key to making the enchantment work.
An enchantment placed on clothing or armor. Francis has to put his entire hand on the clothing or armor and then chant. It increases its ability to endure attacks and is not easily ripped or deformed. This enchantment lasts for one minute. It must be noted the blunt damage can still harm the wearer of an enchanted armor or clothing but it will lessen the damage. Say, it wouldn't kill you, but you may break some of your bones in the fall.
Medium Spells
Torch
"Lumen Fax"
Lighting the way for others is a difficult job, but it is a job that we must all do for each other.
Ah yes, the most difficult challenge of all. Being the light to someone's life. The guide. The person who can help. No one is sure who made the enchantment. Some say it was a group, some say it was one person. Nevertheless, what you would need to remember with this enchantment is to always know that you can be someone's light, but you are also in need of someone to be your light.
Any object that is stick-like in form can be enchanted with this. It will emit light for over three minutes, essentially acting as a light source for when they need it the most. It can be reapplied for a lesser cost of mana but must be done before the light completely fades.
Bonding Enchantment
"Dictum Meum Pactum"
For who would know you better than the object you have come to love and care about? The one to protect you from the demons that reside within
It is known that any living being gets attached to something - sometimes they are other living beings, but sometimes they are simple objects to be seen around. Some would believe that these objects are capable of creating legitimate bonds with their owners. When the enchanter has bonded enough with an object, they can perform this enchatnment on it. The object must have some form of sentimental value with the object before the enchantment can be successful.
Francis can only make this enchantment for one object with sentimental value, in this case was his weaponry. When this enchantment is placed on an object, it bonds object to user in a sort of invisible chain. This enables the user to 'summon' the bonded object to their hand as long as they are in a four meter radius. However, it is completely useless when the object is farther away. This can be strengthened through the higher forms of this magic.
Misc Battle Info: His fighting style heavily involves enchanting his blade during fights to defeat the monster. However, he can also serve as support with his enchantments going to others instead of himself.
~ Your Tale ~
"I assure you that my tale does not end happily. Though, if that continues, remains to be seen."
Arrival: The Breaux Family is of noble lineage from the Galaxy Villa. They have been in charge of nearly monopolizing the market with their crops and expert dealings. However, their family was still just that - a noble family. They weren't nearly as important as the Royal Family that resides there, and quite honestly, that was fine with the Breaux Family. They still had power though and they planned to manipulate behind the shadows. Though, of course, they had their own secrets to hide from the masses. After all, you can't expect them to be so high in position without having their own secret dealings.
But that was a story for another time.
Let's start with something from way, way back. Before the barriers were erected. A Witch, no one knows if it's a dark witch or a white witch, but there was one who visited the family. She told them that someone has placed a curse on them. When the child with white hair and golden eyes appear, the Breaux Family would suffer great consequences. Consequences that was equal to their sin against the witch. They brushed this warning off, thinking that it was just an old hag rambling on about crazy things and continued on with their life.
Generations later, the Breaux family had grown to what they are now. More powerful than ever. The patriarch became the financial advisor for the royal family and all was well. But then, Francis was born. There were only a few people within the Breaux family who remembered the warning and began to panic. But the others brushed them off. They raised the young noble with the guidance of his mother as his father was too busy with work to care for him. But everything was fine for Francis. All he wanted in life was to keep his mother happy.
He went through all the boring lessons without fail, and did his best. His mother would often reward him for when he did a good job so he became more and more hardworking even if there was no actual physical reward to be given. His want to impress everyone just grew more and more - and this became the reason why he's such a perfectionist. He doesn't want to disappoint anyone.
While Francis wasn't the most social of people, he still grew up with a few friends he had bumped into repeatedly whenever he goes out to the market or simply to walk around - the city safe enough to do so even for someone of his caliber. However, his best friend was the youngest child of the de Vischer household, Wynona. He would often find the time out of his lectures to play with her, or to just hang around her. They got along well, better than you'd expect between two nobles. The two remained completely oblivious to the dealings that were going behind their backs - a union between the Breaux Family and the de Vischer family didn't sound so bad right now. The secret exchange was kept under wraps from the children of both families.
His younger sister came five years after he was born. He had someone to protect and someone to be a role model to. Cadence and Francis grew up close and soon enough, he started taking her to play dates with Wynona and Joan. Francis cares for his sister more than anything and they spend a lot of their time together. Francis often accompanied the young girl to the market along with their maid and butler who were there to help them out if they wanted to buy something.
Francis was eight years old when Joan de Vischer took him and Wynona out - escaping to the forest outside. This was the most they had broken their own kingdom's rules - three young nobles disappearing from the city in its entirety was sure to put everyone on edge. But they didn't care. They trusted Joan - they knew that she wanted to teach them something. After all, she would never put them in danger without a reason. Joan led them further outside, her staff in her hand as she cast a protective spell around them to avoid being detected by monsters. She led them to a clearing where she sat them down. That was Francis' first real interation with the Moss Woods themselves, instead of just watching his father talking with them or them going to the festival.
The day passed by quickly as the Elves allowed them to traverse through the forest and taught them many of their rules which was linked with Galaxy Villa's own rules. Francis learned a lot in a day, more than he thought he could with one day in Ethics class. As the sun started to set, they had to leave. When they got back to Galaxy Villa, the group had been reprimanded heavily with Joan being locked in her house for multiple weeks after that. But they all knew that they gained more wisdom through that experience which they were sure to use when they take over their own house.
At eleven, it was determined that Wynona was to be bethrothed to Francis. It was considered to be official and the two had no choice but to comply. However, they did think that it was better than being married off to total strangers. Joan even told them that it was a good idea. They figured that they would continue as they were, but Francis never really denied that he was feeling attracted to his best friend.
At the age of twelve, he lost his entire family. Galaxy Villa mourned for the loss of a noble family in one day, especially since they were providers of crops. They had decided to create plaques and hammered them onto the mansion that the Breaux Family owned. The plaques contained the names of everyone who lived in that house, regardless of whether they were the nobles or the servants. Their family which only consisted of a few people - the main family of four, branch families of seven and servants of thirteen. They made a trip out of the barrier. One of the reasons why they are sucha a major noble house is because they have a farm outside of Galaxy Villa; hence becoming the leading market for crops. Once every three years, the family goes out to check on the farms and make sure defenses have held up.
Francis remembers the experience vividly well. They had come during the night and broke through the defense all too quickly. The Family tried to fight them back since they were too far from civilization to call for help. It all started with the screams. Guards were shouting and farmers were running away. His uncles were the first to go to the front lines to defeat their enemies - whoever they were. Then their mages. Then their guards.
There were some old folks who yelled at Francis at that time, telling him that he was the harbinger of this massacre. For a young teen who had no knowledge of the curse, this was too much for him to bear. One of their combat maids stepped up to his defense, his long time friend and maid, Luna. After successfully getting the old men off of Francis, she took him and his sister to the back and then placed them on a horse. Her words have forever echoed in his mind as the last words anyone in his family other than his sister told him - and those same words echo in his mind as he sleeps at night.
"Today was the day that had been foretold. But it is not your fault. It will never be your fault. Goodbye, Francis. Take care of your sister. Your mother and father will rest well knowing that you are safe."
Unfortunately, they got lost out in the woods rather quickly. Francis tried very hard to protect both him and his sister. Days passed by and they at least got through it by eating these edible herbs. But Cadence succumbed to a sickness that Francis just can't cure. Cadence had died in her sleep - her face peaceful and serene. He couldn't dig her a grave, but he placed a wooden plank near her and surrounded it with stones as a makeshift grave and then engraved Cadence's name on it. Broken and devastated even more than he was, he trudged on alone until he passed out near a city that he didn't reecognize.
He woke up in Gertrude's care days later, being treated from the same illness that took his sister. Francis hasn't been the same ever since. He kept his distance from everyone though after a few months, he did manage to start becoming acquaintances with them. Though he doesn't express much emotion, he decided to go along with anyone who wanted him to help as long as it wasn't against the rules. He's come to know each of them by name, and had started to memorize their likes and their needs as well should the time come that he needed to step up to help them.
Francis did his best to learn the magic that was chosen for him - enchantments. Quick, precise, and helpful for a melee attacker such as himself. That was his specialty. Four years in the orphanage and he felt indebted to Gertrude. She didn't pry with his life. Didn't question is obviously noble clothing. She just took him in and took care of him. Francis liked most of the kids of the orphanage. Their teases weren't that bad and he honestly didn't mind most of their curiosity. He's become rather fond of them. So when they approached him with the idea of going beyond the barrier to defeat the Dark Witch, he agreed to go with them.
It was time to face his fears and trudge through the same forest that haunted him for years.
Theme Song:
Misc: The Breaux Family's untimely slaughter had been on the headline for around a week until they were completely swept under the rug. Through Royal Decree, however, their land has been given to the Royal Family but the main mansion had not been disturbed - a reminder of the old, powerful but dead family. Though, some think that the Royals simply thought that perhaps one of the heirs have survived and is waiting for their return.
AngelofOctober Backup Data's Ghost
Member
Seen
29 days ago
No one wanted you. No one ever really wanted you. Discarded like dried leaves on the forest floor. No one reached for you. No one called out your name. Because those things didn’t matter. What mattered to them was the color of your hair and the color of your skin. What mattered to them were your horns and your claws. Or your canines. Do you fear me? Do I make you afraid? Do I make you uncomfortable? How about you get closer and I show you what I really am made of?
Age: Between 15 and 16 - You think I counted?
Species: Half Deamon - Abyssal energy flows through his blood. Though Deamons have no relations with their Brood. They are often a byproduct of rape, a curse, sometimes it’s even a choice. A Deamon does not love the one who summoned it, nor do they care about the Brood that which they spawn. Though no two Half Deamons are alike, just as there is no Deamon that is alike either. A Half Deamon’s features and appearance are often based on the Deamonic lineage that spawned them. Igni, Aquarius, Grimace, Miseri, and so and so forth. Valeo’s “father” if it can even be called that was the burning Abyssal. Igni, Demi Spawn of the Oblivion.
Igni was forged from magma, or so the stories go. That churning in a volcano, was the core of Abyssal energy that birthed the lord of flames himself. They say it is Igni’s presence that called for volcanic eruptions, and that it is Igni’s presence that created wrath in mortal men. The 10ft abomination that is called a Deamon who carries a warhammer and punished sinful men by boiling them alive, that is Igni.
Igni was known for his hatred of the Celestials who banished him back from the Mortal Plane into the Oblivion. Where Igni stays, sealed away from his wrathful, destructive forces on the mortal plane. For this Igni vowed to get his vengeance on a Celestial being and break free from his Celestial bonds.
It is this heritage that flows in Valeo. Which is probably why personally he is so fiery and difficult to deal with at times. It is Igni’s heritage that gives his Brood either ashen pale skin [uncommon], reddish clay skin, or a yellow orange skin. Those who are the children of Igni often have rust colored eyes, golden, or often they are completely blacken. It also means his children have a high tolerance to heat and fire in general.
Normal fire pulls away from Valeo, he could stick his hand through a campfire, or on candlelight and like a magnet with two negative forces being put together they repel instead. The fire pulls or wraps around him and doesn’t even harm him. With elemental magical fire, Valeo takes half damage and is not as easily burned by fire that some others might. Valeo wouldn’t be able to walk in a volcano or a smoldering inferno, but he has some defenses against the heat. What Valeo doesn’t have is defenses against is the cold. Due to his hotter temperature, he has trouble staying warm in sub zero temperatures.
However, all Deamon children often share similar traits, vestigial or not. Usually horns, wings, tails, cloven feet, claws, etc. Every Half Deamon child is different and they may have one or two of these features, but they often share these commonalities.
Valeo had horns, if you pull back his bangs you will two see black, worned down spots, where his horns use to be. They have been cut, cauterized as to not grow back. Leaving black, boney spots on his forehead where his horns use to be. Valeo tends to hide these spots with long bangs. He has claws and with that a natural swipe move with his claws. He also has sharp teeth, nothing like a Vampry, but enough to break skin and leave a bruise. Which gives him a natural bite attack as well. Has dark vision as well and can see up to 60ft in night.
Some of Valeo’s personality traits are not by choice, but by nature. Common instincts for a Half Deamon child and are often traits of their father. Dominant traits are not chosen by their fathers. It is like a tiger cub knowing how to hunt at birth, but a parent still teaching them to perfect it. The dominant traits passed on by his father are wrath, a fiery tempting spirit [portrayed in his free spirited nature that doesn’t obey rules], and the will to survive.
Red. Red hair. Tufts, no a mane of red hair. It blew in the wind, flickering across his face like dancing flames. He stared at you with ferocity, even if he were not angry with you, the look of annoyance on his face was enough to know you were not welcomed in entering his personal space. His eyes were bright, golden yellow only made more stark in comparison to the fact his eyes were blackened, with rusty reds. His gaze, no his scowl at you were like having a staring contest with a volcano.
Neither of you blink, well you eventually blink, but his eyes remain fixated on you with hyperfocus. He may have looked like a teenage boy, but there was a path of destruction in his eyes that seemed more like a feral beast than that of a loving, innocent child. His eyes burned through the back of your head, curiously studying you with an ocular observation that you trapped in his gaze. As sweat rolled down your forehead, he continued to study you. It was like he knew your every thought before you could say anything or that was what he was trying to figure out.
There was a pressure about him. A force. A strong force, that would not bend. He would not be made to do anything you said and the truth was you wanted to leave. Something about him made you trapped in a place, and you could easily have taken this boy down, you were sure of it when he stood at 5’5”, 165cms, and probably weighed on the extremely light side, consider how his robes hung loosely on his body. You couldn’t guess, but he seemed easy to take down physically. Yet, you felt weighed down by his presence, his stare alone. How were you afraid of such a small, fragile looking child?
His robes were black, though fading, almost gray, with patches woven into the sleeves. A pair of breeches were ballooned, gathered at the shins, underneath black riding boots, also worn down to the heel, with fur lined trimming. A sooty colored brown capellette hung on his shoulders, with tattered, worn fingerless gloves, gray, with blacken parts from being burned perhaps. Most notable were his stark features, nonhuman features. Despite his human silhouette, his skin was a light, ashen gray, hints of white the way you may see peach in someone’s skin.Bruising under his eye, gave him an unusual age to his otherwise youthful appearance. He was human, but not. He just scoffs and lifts up his hood attached to his capelette.
“Not worth my time,” he says turning his back. Yet everything about earlier exchange remained in your head, like he was still gazing at you or really through you.
His voice was smoldering, husky and smoky, with a boyish charm. It was young, not too deep, full of youthful cockiness.
Personality Strength
“Do not think you can pull a fast one on me. I am not easy to lie to. And I am not a simple child. I know more than you think. So be careful with what you say”
Intelligent and cunning Valeo is not some child to underestimate. While his appearance would give off the impression of some weak boy. His gaze and his sharp tongue would not. While he may not have read books and been educated in the schools, what he lacks in proper education, he makes up for street smarts and his quick learning capabilities. Valeo is observant and very aware of his environment around him. He picks up on things and uses those things he has picked up against those he knows it will work on. He’s not easily gullible nor is he easy to trick. You can’t slick a slick and Valeo tends to know when someone is trying to lie to him.
Despite what it may seem Valeo has a strong sense of self. Some people might see him hiding his injured horns as some kind of insecurity, though Valeo makes up for it in pompous arrogance and high self esteem. So much so you could say that self esteem is a flaw in Valeo, we will get there in time. Valeo won’t and doesn’t accept others disrespect, though how he handles it could be considered over the top to others. Valeo doesn’t necessarily care.
A free spirit, who does want he wants and doesn’t obey the rules of others could also be considered a flaw in Valeo’s personality. Though it is this free living that inspires others to take risk. Valeo is bold, candid, and very clear in what he thinks of a person. While he may not be very emotional, and is more analytical, observant about the things around him Valeo may let others in at a comfortable distance. It will never be an emotional relationship. The lack of a nurturing figure in his life or a loving embrace leaves Valeo’s affectionate side very dull.
That doesn’t mean Valeo won’t show gratitude or be grateful. Even if it doesn’t read that way. He’ll always come off sharp tongued, mean spirited, and a bit of an asshole. Though somewhere that asshole probably has a heart of gold. Valeo is patience with others, despite what it seems. He has a long fuse, for someone who abominable blood gives him wrath as a natural trait. Usually when Valeo explodes in the way he does it is because he has given someone so much rope that it eventually all burns away and he can’t take their stupidity.
Valeo personality is a Do or Don’t kind of personality. In truth he’d probably never expose him going to get the Golden Set with the other kids because he wants to say Thank You to Gertrude, not out of love, but respect. Which Valeo has an abundance of for those who take action and don’t idly sit on their hands. His wrath and anger usually pushes Valeo to action, and he’ll take things in his own hands if he has to do just to get something done.
Loyal to those who earn it. Trusting to those he deems deserve the truth. These strengths are all layered under the disguise that most of his strengths could be painted nearly all off as flaws to others who do not understand his complicated nature.
Personality Flaws
“You don’t really think you can compare yourself to me. I won’t let you undermine me in such a way.”
Valeo is not the type of child who accepts consoling words from those who hear his story. In fact the truth of the matter might be he looking more for validation than he is looking for consoling words. This is what makes Valeo personality hard for others to understand. Not easy to bend and not easy to tell what to do, most give up on Valeo at this point due to his nature. They see a person who disregards others, who thinks highly of himself, and is selfish.
Without understanding that everything about Valeo is earning things. You earn the right to get close to him. You earn the truth from him. You earn your respect. Otherwise you’re a waste of time and not worth the effort. Life is about survival and those you let into your inner circle cannot be ones who betray you.
His true flaw is more likely the walls Valeo puts up. All the walls that make Valeo a maze to deal with. He’s self centered and cocky, but then he tells you a truth, or does something for you that would be considered kind though refuses to show any affection afterward. He’s violent and aggressive, but then he’ll give you a smile your way and tell you he is just joking.
Which is it Valeo? Harder to put up with his do what he wants attitude. He has no respect for laws. He has no respect to follow rules. Most of his life has been in the forest, where choices were his own choices and living in a city rules be damned. He has certainly gotten Gertrude and some of the orphans in trouble because he doesn’t follows rules.
And while most of his flaws seem like innocent folly. There are two types of anger Valeo can show. A “I’m annoyed with you” anger which is probably the side of his angry you want to be on. At least he can get over that. Or you can smooth things over by trying to get on his good side without further annoying him. And then there is Valeo’s wrath. Though hard to spike, he can be vengeance seeking and quite cruel, malicious to those who have pushed him too far.
This side is malicious and demonic. It is the side that has pushed Valeo to do terrible things in his past. None of which he feels ashamed for or regret. Rather pride. He’ll even boast about it without recognizing why others might find it wrong.
Valeo is also sharp tongued, and can be quite rude to others because of his candid bold personality. Sometimes he doesn’t care what he says to others. Other times he will beat himself up for allowing himself to say such a stupid thing. And for those who do not earn the truth from him. He is a sharp liar and manipulator. With little to no remorse for doing so. To survive is his will.
Neutral
Poetry, despite lacking education and probably the neatest handwriting, however, he likes to sit down and write his thoughts. They aren’t necessarily good pieces either;
Babbling brook
Honestly why are you called
A babbling brook
More like peeing brook
Because you make travelers
Feel the need to pee
Isn’t that how that works?
Honestly why are you called
A babbling brook
More like peeing brook
Because you make travelers
Feel the need to pee
Isn’t that how that works?
Coffee not because it taste any good, honestly it was his favorite part of Cosmo City was the coffee because it made him feel more adult. And there is nothing more important than looking more adult in front of the other orphans. Had to understand the difference between him and them.
People watching there is nothing more fun in the world than watching other people make a mistake. Watching other people a mistake is probably one of the greatest joys in the world. Because they tried so hard to cover them up, not self aware enough to realize when someone else has witnessed them making a slight.
Dislikes babies. First off they look weird, anyone who thinks a baby looks normal is just been tricked by their baby magic. Second off they drool. Seriously I have seen Alpine Lions cubs more sophisticated than how much actual mucus comes out of a human baby. Also they are loud.
Dislikes compliments. I seen enough people to know why they compliment each other. To feel less insecure about themselves. It is rare to see a genuine compliment, so just don’t compliment me. Show me gratitude with something. Don’t try to kiss my arse.
Skills:
Forest Navigation -
Growing up in the woods of Aeflstan has made Valeo adapt to their changing paths and corridors. He understands the nature of the forest is fickle and thus he understands the nature of how to travel through it without becoming dead, dinner or lost for all eternity till you die. His knowledge of the forest seems uncanny to the elves, but that’s merely because he’s passed through the forest with knowledge bestowed to him by the creatures of the forest.
Identifying Flora and Fauna -
What Valeo may lack from actual textbooks, he learned living in the forest. For the most part Valleo can tell you what you can eat, what you shouldn’t eat, and what you could try to eat. He can identify what a beast is and the nature they present.
Intimidation -
So some fuckhole won’t let you into the gate or someone is giving you a hard time. Don’t worry I know how to deal with these types. Despite being a teenager Valeo has the skill to intimidate others quite well. Probably something he picked up in the look of animals of the forest. Imitating the most fearsome. He also picked up words bandits say and rogues say to intimidate others. Coupled with his look of a beast he can surely make another person wee themselves a little.
Forest Friends -
Not every beast of the forest is tameable, but not every beast is ferocious. Being raised by the forest Valeo has few friends in the woods and has an uncanny knack of knowing what animals mean. He can “talk” to them or engage with them. As well as smooth over any mistakes the idiots create. Though not every situation can be fixed and even if he is friends with an Owl Bear doesn’t mean that if you done something to royally piss it off he’s not going to sit there talking to it in a soothing voice. He’s running and you better run too. His alliance with them is fickle as fickle as the nature of the forest.
Manipulation -
Valeo is a pretty good liar. Since he’s observant and aware of the world around him, he picks up on things others do not. He knows how to subtle pick up on how to make others bend to do what he wants them to do. Shit he’ll go as far as blackmailing someone important if he has in order to get his way. It is a good technique to have when you’re trying to survive the city.
Perceptive -
Valeo can read the air very well. Since he has a natural observant personality and he is smart, able to pick up on subtle things. He also notices when someone is trying to pull a fast one over him or someone trying to lie to him. I mean he’s not foolproof there is always someone out there smarter, faster or stronger than you or all three. He also quick to notice things around him. Snapping twigs, surprise attacks. He’s often the one who feels the mood before everyone else picks up on it.
Focal Crystal: A what? All I have is this piece of stone. Found it near a spell stone that was crumbling and thought it looked cool so I picked it up. I don’t need some fancy glitter rock to cast magic. Rest of the magical people are just showing off. I wonder if there is a competition on who has the shiniest focal crystal.
Special Equipment:
Pointy Compass
I don't know what it is really called. Some guy dropped it out of his bag into the mud, finder’s keepers. Seems it changes different colors depending on the direction someone goes, blue for north, green for west, yellow for south, orange for east, then a blend of those colors for northwest, southeast, etc. Also a really neat feature is if I think of where I’d like to go, I can put the pen part on a map and it draws the safest path to get there on said map.
Mimic Bag - Muris
So it isn’t cuddly and some of my stuff is dripping in saliva afterward. But it is great robber deterrent. And it has a great personality. Sometimes if you pet my bag just in the right way it starts to pur like a cat and it’s kind of great. It’s the companion that you’ll never tire of and it doesn’t annoy you. Unless it decides that it’s going to put your poetry in its actual stomach. You think it’s trying to tell me something.
Equipment:
Magnar [Mugn-ar]
Perks of being raised by a tiger mom is that one day the tiger cub you played with decides to follow you. The second perk of said tiger cub is that you can ride him and he doesn’t put up much fuss. Simon fixed the armor. Don’t ask me where it came from. Don’t ask me how I afforded it. It was a gift, okay, from a friend.
Ring of my Animal Friends
Don’t ask an old woman gave it to me for some reason. It’s not important.
Poetry
Haha. You actually thought this was a spellbook. No it is my poetry holder. All my poetry goes in this little binder.
Weapon: One handed axe - cause sometimes an asshole is brandishing a sword at you, or a knife, and you have to get in close.
Special Attack: Blessing of Falsehood - so it may not be an explosive spell or even one that is fiery and eternal doom for all. But it can be fairly useful in a lot of scenarios. While Valeo is a gifted liar, naturally, it is enhanced due to his Deamonic heritage. Igni being the Father of Falsehoods, grants Valeo the ability to make most people believe his lies. Exceptions being those with high willpower, those who are highly perceptive, and even then some might simply feel something isn’t entirely right, but can’t spot the lie.
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: My brain, don't need a dumb book to keep them in my head, read the stones.
School of Focus: Primordial Magic - before there were schools of focus, there was simply the magic that existed in the forest. It is the magic that makes the forest alive, the animals and creatures somehow connected to it’s life, and it is the secret behind the Spell Stones. Valeo had no teacher, he had the stones and met many creatures in the forest. Many whom magic was not bound and chain by a mere study of focus. The concept is alien and is what makes wizards in the city weak.
Sedation
The next action the target will take is slow down by a few seconds. A spell that might take a caster 5 seconds to cast, make take up to 15 seconds. A nice way to get in and take an advantage. And any physical action may take longer as well, unsheathing a sword may take up to 1 second, but with this spell it take upwards to 5 seconds. The spell is not permanent, it is temporary and is considered a counterspell. So the target must be making some kind of action before he can actually cast this spell on his target and he can only target one individual at time or really counter one individual at a time. It works one one action, one target, they must be making an action before he can cast the action and can miss the timing of countering their action.
Rupture
Causes whatever is targeted to break. That is non magical items like glass windows, even non enchanted weapons, non enchanted equipment to shatter or break by merely pointing at it. Any living creatures targeted by the spell will not be affected at the surface, instead this spell affects living creatures at different levels of defense. Ordinary people will have their bones give way without much resistance. Has to be a specifically targeted bone, it’s not all the bones. Spell affects what the user is pointing at specifically. Can’t target the same object or person after breaking something or the object in question.
{Demonic Inherited}
Inside Valeo is a storm of Abyssal energy, being half Deamon makes him close to his nature, or perhaps that is because he was never shackled down to a single school of focus. This Abyssal energy comes out as crackling, red lighting, surrounded by a pitch black flame that has no shape or silhouette beside look like a black shadow that flickers like flames. It crackles, it sizzles. While one who is touched by this energy feels heat like burning fire, it also eats away at their flesh like some super form of gangrene dealing necrotic burning damage. Valeo can use this energy in various forms, and it is the main use in combat or an effective killing blow.
This spell can be used in various ways;
- small baseball shaped fireballs that can be lobbed upwards to 30ft, the cinges the ground or its target, blackening the earth or eating away at their flesh.
- with swiping motions it can come as crescent shaped strikes, slicing it’s target with burning, and melting effects. Can be thrown upwards of 15ft. 
- he can channel the energy into a small focus, i.e. being his claws and can come up close and personal with a nasty scratch. Or he can channel the energy into his hands to hold onto his targets and give them a nice surprising grip.
Imitator
Valeo can target one individual at a time and mark them with a symbol. Unbeknownst to the target marked with this spell, when they cast their next spell Valeo can cast exactly the same spell they are casting as a clone version of the spell. This spell affects one person at a time, requires the original owner of the spell to cast a spell first, and dissipates after use. He cannot target the same target again for 60 seconds.
Misc Battle Info: Valeo is not your traditional caster, not only does he not have a spellbook, but he also gets up close and personal. His main use is in the utility of his abyssal energy, which means he is more free to move than most casters. Butterfly kicks, and acrobatic gymnastics, mixed with casting abyssal energy to wreak havoc on his foes. And if the fancy footwork doesn’t catch you off guard, he always has the brutality of his axe. In truth he moves freely like an animal, with a “combat training” he otherwise should not have be able to perform. Valeo's magic is more primal and more tied his mental and emotional being and state of mind. Spell strength is determined by emotion, connection, and the mental focus of an individual. Versus the tailor that a school of focus gives. It should be noted that Rupture is affected by various things as well. Large massive creatures may not feel near the same affect as an ordinary human being with low defenses. Rupture cannot break through enchanted armor or break natural magical defenses magical creatures have. Size can also affect the Rupture spell, a broken leg for a human, might just be a hairline fracture for a giant.
"A child never wanted, a child never loved. Passed on by the next and the next. Feared by many, scorned by everyone. The only acceptance was with the ones already scorned and not loved."
“She’s beautiful, but I heard her womb is cursed,” there they went whispering again, the woman would smile to her face, but they would talk behind her back. Everyone knew in Redfort it seemed like. Not only did it seem like everyone knew it also seemed that Sigfrid was tired of waiting. Grabbing her laundry, Ereda grabbed her laundry quickly trying to get away from the rumors that surrounded her. It hurt to lose another child. Was it her? Well everyone blamed her. Entering the cottage her and Sigfrid shared she hoped it would be a refuge to get away from the scrutiny.
Instead Sigfrid was sitting on a chair, that he himself had carved. He looks at her, he’s handsome to look at, lean features, and a square jaw. Except that as of late it felt like their love was dying. There were so in love a long time ago. Now it seemed like every child lost was some kind of spite against hers. His emerald colored irises just watched her, his brown hair the color of the mud, though that never bothered her.
“I cleaned some linens,” she announces, hoping he was in a good mood today.
“I can see that,” he says bitterly looking at her basket.
“How was field work?” she asked.
“Fine,” he replies.
“Are you mad at me?” she ask him.
He slams his hands down on the table and looks at her angrily. She takes a step back. Her heart racing. His rage boiling over. She had never felt more like a fool then losing her third child. What was wrong with her? Did she have a cursed womb? What had she done to the goddess of fertility to upset her?
“No I am fooking furious, you’ll never bear a child,” Sigfrid tells her, “Should have never chosen to marry you over your sister. She at least has kids.”
Her vision becoming a watery mess, as a tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t know how to mend his heart. She knew he was angry and lashing out, she knew he had to hear the rumors and gossip too.
“I’m sorry,” she says trying to fight the tears and the shaking of her body, “I’m sorry. I can….pray to the fertility goddess.”
“She probably has gotten fed up with you as well,” Sigfrid scoffs, “You and your sister look alike, that’s an option.”
She promised herself she would not grieve any longer, but she couldn’t fight the current of emotions. As she broke down into tears. Sigfrid watched her with a callous cold that was not usually like him. He got up and said nothing walking towards the door, she grabbed him by the sleeve of his tunic.
“Where are you going?” she asked him.
“For a walk and see if I want to deal with tradition or not,” he curls his lip when he says so. He’s disgusted by her. Repulsed by her. How does she fix it? How does she bring happiness back to his face? Is he going to take further shame and break their bond.
“Ple-ease...Sig,” she utters breathily.
He pushes her arm off of his. She swears she sees him fighting tears, but he has to be angry at somebody. It is her. She stares at the door for a long time. Will he come back? She wonders if he’ll come back. She lies on the floor curling up in fetal position. Her tears plopping gently onto the wood of the cottage home.
It goes from day to night when she wakes up. Is he home? Has he decided to stay? Every night and every day since they got married she would always run back to the cottage, as if they had fallen in love just yesterday and now there is this void. He’s drifting from her. Was it the lack of children or did he simply hate her?
“Sigfrid,” she calls out.
There is no answer. She waits.
“Sigfrid,” she stands up now. Please tell her heart he has come back. She could not have lost this third child to lose him as well. She wanders the house in the dark. It’s empty, like a ghost home. She can’t, she can’t lose him either. She runs towards her talisman. Getting on her hands and knees, she can’t produce tears anymore.
“Please, I am begging,” she weeps, “Please. I cannot lose him. What have I done? Have I not been charitable enough? Have I upset you somehow? Please. Please!” her voice is loud and cracking, “Please tell me. Please help me. I need him to come home. Someone hear my prayer.”
She sits in silence. Is she worth existing? Is she worth living if she cannot pass her life on? Is she worth loving if she can’t make them happy? There is a pain in her chest. There is a tightening feeling and the sense of nausea. She’s better off dead. Is she not? Suddenly the door swings open. A forceful, unnatural wind.
“Who--who is there?” she whimpers in a small voice that is not her. Her feeling of guilt being replaced immediately with fear.
A candle on the table begins to burn. She’s paralyzed in one spot.
“You asked for someone to hear your prayer,” a deep, bellowing voice echoed around her. Disembodied, she could not see anyone.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am the one who will perform a miracle,” the voice says.
“Are you a Celestial?” she ask.
“More or less,” the voice replies.
She feels a sense of relief. Where was this individual?
“May I see you?” she ask.
She only gets a brief vision of a handsome man standing before her. He was very Celestial looking with golden hair that reminded her of chainmail. His eyes were the purest color of glowing light. He was beautiful to grace her eyes upon him.
“Do you know why the Gods have cursed me?” she ask him.
“I don’t work for any God, thus I have no answer to the question,” he tells her, and brushes her hair back, “But feel your pain. I have no children of my own. How will my legacy live on?”
He understood her pain. Is that why he came to her in person? She felt afraid, but at the same time comforted by his presence. She let her guard down.
“Can you help me?” she ask.
“Yes,”
Instead Sigfrid was sitting on a chair, that he himself had carved. He looks at her, he’s handsome to look at, lean features, and a square jaw. Except that as of late it felt like their love was dying. There were so in love a long time ago. Now it seemed like every child lost was some kind of spite against hers. His emerald colored irises just watched her, his brown hair the color of the mud, though that never bothered her.
“I cleaned some linens,” she announces, hoping he was in a good mood today.
“I can see that,” he says bitterly looking at her basket.
“How was field work?” she asked.
“Fine,” he replies.
“Are you mad at me?” she ask him.
He slams his hands down on the table and looks at her angrily. She takes a step back. Her heart racing. His rage boiling over. She had never felt more like a fool then losing her third child. What was wrong with her? Did she have a cursed womb? What had she done to the goddess of fertility to upset her?
“No I am fooking furious, you’ll never bear a child,” Sigfrid tells her, “Should have never chosen to marry you over your sister. She at least has kids.”
Her vision becoming a watery mess, as a tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t know how to mend his heart. She knew he was angry and lashing out, she knew he had to hear the rumors and gossip too.
“I’m sorry,” she says trying to fight the tears and the shaking of her body, “I’m sorry. I can….pray to the fertility goddess.”
“She probably has gotten fed up with you as well,” Sigfrid scoffs, “You and your sister look alike, that’s an option.”
She promised herself she would not grieve any longer, but she couldn’t fight the current of emotions. As she broke down into tears. Sigfrid watched her with a callous cold that was not usually like him. He got up and said nothing walking towards the door, she grabbed him by the sleeve of his tunic.
“Where are you going?” she asked him.
“For a walk and see if I want to deal with tradition or not,” he curls his lip when he says so. He’s disgusted by her. Repulsed by her. How does she fix it? How does she bring happiness back to his face? Is he going to take further shame and break their bond.
“Ple-ease...Sig,” she utters breathily.
He pushes her arm off of his. She swears she sees him fighting tears, but he has to be angry at somebody. It is her. She stares at the door for a long time. Will he come back? She wonders if he’ll come back. She lies on the floor curling up in fetal position. Her tears plopping gently onto the wood of the cottage home.
It goes from day to night when she wakes up. Is he home? Has he decided to stay? Every night and every day since they got married she would always run back to the cottage, as if they had fallen in love just yesterday and now there is this void. He’s drifting from her. Was it the lack of children or did he simply hate her?
“Sigfrid,” she calls out.
There is no answer. She waits.
“Sigfrid,” she stands up now. Please tell her heart he has come back. She could not have lost this third child to lose him as well. She wanders the house in the dark. It’s empty, like a ghost home. She can’t, she can’t lose him either. She runs towards her talisman. Getting on her hands and knees, she can’t produce tears anymore.
“Please, I am begging,” she weeps, “Please. I cannot lose him. What have I done? Have I not been charitable enough? Have I upset you somehow? Please. Please!” her voice is loud and cracking, “Please tell me. Please help me. I need him to come home. Someone hear my prayer.”
She sits in silence. Is she worth existing? Is she worth living if she cannot pass her life on? Is she worth loving if she can’t make them happy? There is a pain in her chest. There is a tightening feeling and the sense of nausea. She’s better off dead. Is she not? Suddenly the door swings open. A forceful, unnatural wind.
“Who--who is there?” she whimpers in a small voice that is not her. Her feeling of guilt being replaced immediately with fear.
A candle on the table begins to burn. She’s paralyzed in one spot.
“You asked for someone to hear your prayer,” a deep, bellowing voice echoed around her. Disembodied, she could not see anyone.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am the one who will perform a miracle,” the voice says.
“Are you a Celestial?” she ask.
“More or less,” the voice replies.
She feels a sense of relief. Where was this individual?
“May I see you?” she ask.
She only gets a brief vision of a handsome man standing before her. He was very Celestial looking with golden hair that reminded her of chainmail. His eyes were the purest color of glowing light. He was beautiful to grace her eyes upon him.
“Do you know why the Gods have cursed me?” she ask him.
“I don’t work for any God, thus I have no answer to the question,” he tells her, and brushes her hair back, “But feel your pain. I have no children of my own. How will my legacy live on?”
He understood her pain. Is that why he came to her in person? She felt afraid, but at the same time comforted by his presence. She let her guard down.
“Can you help me?” she ask.
“Yes,”
That evening was behind her these days, she seemed to have forgotten it with all the preparations. Ingrid her midwife watched her as she grimaced from another contraction. Perhaps it was nerves, but she was slowly growing worried and nervous. A part of her said something wasn’t right, though another of her felt blessed. Why was she so scared of her own miracle? That’s what the whole village called it a miracle.
“Did you ever tell your husband?” Ingrid asked her.
“About the angel, yes,” she replies, she thinks Ingrid is trying to take her mind off the pain.
“Was he,” Ingrid blushed, “Sexy?”
Why would she ask her that? Except that she felt a little childish swelling in her heart. She slightly giggled.
“Insanely,” she told her.
“Your baby is going to be half angel,” Ingrid tells her.
She wondered if he have golden hair that shimmered in the way his did. She wondered what kind of features a Celestial baby might have. That’s right Ingrid is right this isn’t the time to worry. Soon she would be blessed with a miracle child. Then she would no longer be the woman of this village with some fertility curse.
“Sigfrid will be so jealous,” she says wincing a little.
“He’s going to have wings, and start making the charities affluent,” Ingrid giggle, “What is it like carry an angel’s child?”
“Tiring, but I never been pregnant, don’t know if nine months of exhaustion is normal,” she tells the older woman.
“It is tiring,” Ingrid tells her.
Well she knew that. In the technical sense. He was almost here. In this world. She would meet face to face with him. Her life would change from misfortune to miracles. Now she was weeping from joy, not sadness. She couldn’t wait for Sigfrid to hold onto their baby with pride and see him smile.
She woke up to a blood curdling scream. Ingrid! She was exhausted. Soaking in her own sweat. That seemed to take hours. Staring at the setting sun Sigfrid should be home soon.
“Ingrid!” she calls out tiredly.
“Wh-what have you done Ereda?” Ingrid ask her. She sounds scared. She tries to lift herself up. Her body is sore and she’s so tired. Ingrid is holding her son in a blanket, she’s trembling, she’s averting her gaze. What’s wrong with him? Ereda begins to feel a sinking panicking.
“What is it?” Ereda ask.
“See for yourself, I can’t be with you,” Ingrid says leaving the baby swaddled in blankets next to her and quickly running out of the home. What could she be so afraid? Sigfrid should be home soon. No. What’s wrong. No. Is it a stillborn? Is he deformed? Disabled? She grabs the baby and gasp in her own shock. Ashen skin and blacken eyes staring at her. They were gold and red, and black like the pictures of Deamons. He had small horns beginning to grow. He was warm to the touch, much warmer than any normal baby. And tufts of red hair were beginning to grow from a gray scalp. She couldn’t. If Sigfrid saw him.
Tiredly Ereda picked herself up and the baby. She had to kill him and flee Redfort. It was the only way to save Sigfrid from ridicule. It was the only way to save her from humiliation, utter humiliation. She was so exhausted, but she had to rid the world of this abomination. An abomination her own womb fashioned. A miracle. No it truly was a curse. She tried to run out of the cottage. More like a light jog. She hadn’t the energy to run, and yet she did.
Sigfrid was coming back from the fields, she could see him talking to other men and women who worked him. She made sure he did not see her. She carried on. Running towards the woods. Towards the woods. Holding the baby at a distant. The abomination that it was she ran into the forest. There was a different atmosphere here. She was scared. She must smell of food. She tripped over a root, cutting open the top of her foot.
The abomination began to cry. How does she kill him?
Lying him down in a bed of leaves. He began to look at her with teary eyes. She looked around, grabbing a rock she could smash him. He was so tiny, it should be easy, simple in fact. But she was no killer. That sounded barbaric. Even if he were some infernal baby she couldn’t stone him. Maybe she could drown him. There was a brook close by. She hesitated picking him up. He’s just a baby. One night in the cold, without food likely kill him as easily as any of these barbaric methods. She gets up from the bed of leaves and brushes them off of her.
She was in too much shock to cry right now. How had this happened to her? Why her? Why was she so unfortunate? She looked at him one more time. He stared back. They were like strangers without a bond right now. She turned her back, she had to do what she had to do right?
“Did you ever tell your husband?” Ingrid asked her.
“About the angel, yes,” she replies, she thinks Ingrid is trying to take her mind off the pain.
“Was he,” Ingrid blushed, “Sexy?”
Why would she ask her that? Except that she felt a little childish swelling in her heart. She slightly giggled.
“Insanely,” she told her.
“Your baby is going to be half angel,” Ingrid tells her.
She wondered if he have golden hair that shimmered in the way his did. She wondered what kind of features a Celestial baby might have. That’s right Ingrid is right this isn’t the time to worry. Soon she would be blessed with a miracle child. Then she would no longer be the woman of this village with some fertility curse.
“Sigfrid will be so jealous,” she says wincing a little.
“He’s going to have wings, and start making the charities affluent,” Ingrid giggle, “What is it like carry an angel’s child?”
“Tiring, but I never been pregnant, don’t know if nine months of exhaustion is normal,” she tells the older woman.
“It is tiring,” Ingrid tells her.
Well she knew that. In the technical sense. He was almost here. In this world. She would meet face to face with him. Her life would change from misfortune to miracles. Now she was weeping from joy, not sadness. She couldn’t wait for Sigfrid to hold onto their baby with pride and see him smile.
**
She woke up to a blood curdling scream. Ingrid! She was exhausted. Soaking in her own sweat. That seemed to take hours. Staring at the setting sun Sigfrid should be home soon.
“Ingrid!” she calls out tiredly.
“Wh-what have you done Ereda?” Ingrid ask her. She sounds scared. She tries to lift herself up. Her body is sore and she’s so tired. Ingrid is holding her son in a blanket, she’s trembling, she’s averting her gaze. What’s wrong with him? Ereda begins to feel a sinking panicking.
“What is it?” Ereda ask.
“See for yourself, I can’t be with you,” Ingrid says leaving the baby swaddled in blankets next to her and quickly running out of the home. What could she be so afraid? Sigfrid should be home soon. No. What’s wrong. No. Is it a stillborn? Is he deformed? Disabled? She grabs the baby and gasp in her own shock. Ashen skin and blacken eyes staring at her. They were gold and red, and black like the pictures of Deamons. He had small horns beginning to grow. He was warm to the touch, much warmer than any normal baby. And tufts of red hair were beginning to grow from a gray scalp. She couldn’t. If Sigfrid saw him.
Tiredly Ereda picked herself up and the baby. She had to kill him and flee Redfort. It was the only way to save Sigfrid from ridicule. It was the only way to save her from humiliation, utter humiliation. She was so exhausted, but she had to rid the world of this abomination. An abomination her own womb fashioned. A miracle. No it truly was a curse. She tried to run out of the cottage. More like a light jog. She hadn’t the energy to run, and yet she did.
Sigfrid was coming back from the fields, she could see him talking to other men and women who worked him. She made sure he did not see her. She carried on. Running towards the woods. Towards the woods. Holding the baby at a distant. The abomination that it was she ran into the forest. There was a different atmosphere here. She was scared. She must smell of food. She tripped over a root, cutting open the top of her foot.
The abomination began to cry. How does she kill him?
Lying him down in a bed of leaves. He began to look at her with teary eyes. She looked around, grabbing a rock she could smash him. He was so tiny, it should be easy, simple in fact. But she was no killer. That sounded barbaric. Even if he were some infernal baby she couldn’t stone him. Maybe she could drown him. There was a brook close by. She hesitated picking him up. He’s just a baby. One night in the cold, without food likely kill him as easily as any of these barbaric methods. She gets up from the bed of leaves and brushes them off of her.
She was in too much shock to cry right now. How had this happened to her? Why her? Why was she so unfortunate? She looked at him one more time. He stared back. They were like strangers without a bond right now. She turned her back, she had to do what she had to do right?
Abyssal eyes stared at the canopy above. The woman’s voice that he had heard in embryonic fluid has not been heard for quite some time. He tries to move to his side. An animal runs across the tree branch to another tree branch. The very first lullaby sung to him is the sound of the birds, the cracking of twigs. And another voice. A voice that sings to him. It is the first song he has heard, is it instinct, or the voice of nature herself. Hush little baby. It says. Hush little one. Hush little babe. Survive this. And continue to live. You must live. But the baby wasn’t apt to listening to a voice from nowhere. He closed his eyes. To rest for an eternity in Oblivion.
Seven years a miracle was bestowed to Metrodora and her cubs. She was strolling along the forest floor when her and her cubs came across a strange sight indeed. A dying and cold baby. Normally Metrodora would have let the baby die. Yet, something compelled her that day to take the baby in. He drank her milk and learned her skills. Leaving her care, but sticking close to his brother Magnar. Who saw him nothing, but another tiger.
“I never seen a boy with a tiger before,” a voice says from the brush. He has heard man’s voice before. But he has no man’s voice. Magnar begins to growl and so does he. He stands on all fours and imitates Magnar.
“Nor have I seen a boy behave like a cat, get off that log that won’t intimidate anyone,” she barks. An old woman comes out from the brush. Magnar stays on guard.
He had heard man’s voice before that did not mean he understood it. What he understood was an old woman hitting them both with a wooden spoon. What stopped Magnar from ripping out her throat? Magnar seemed to understand who she is. His tail curled in, he seemed afraid of her. Though Valeo was not so sure he was afraid of her.
“You obviously have no manners,” she tells him. For an old woman she was quite strong. She picked him up from the collar of a shirt he had found in the mud when man left it at their campsite. She begins to drag him off, Magnar following close by.
Brother, who is she.
A scary woman.
I am not scared.
You should be.
He didn’t like the being dragged off part. He could feel the earth between the tips of his claws, digging into the soil as he tried to anchor or slow down the old woman. She was old, but strong. How? He did not understand. Magnar watched close, yet slunk off in the forest. Yeah go away then, huh. Won’t help him slay this old lady. How tough could she be? He struggled to take his shirt off. She looked back when he slipped out.
“Did Metrodora not teach you better,” she says, “I am going to have a talk with her.”
Metrodora? His mother tiger? It is the only word he understood because it is the word he felt when he would put his claws through her fur. He cocks his head to the side.
“Now you are listening,” she continues.
It all sounds all scrambled when she talks.
“Rrr,” Valeo growls at her.
She doesn’t care much grabbing for his wrist and continues to drag him off that way. Either he used his legs now or fall to the ground and be dragged that way. Who was she? How did she know Mother Tiger? Her grip hurt. It was very strong. There they finally came to a small, swampy looking cottage in the middle of the forest. With a walkway used to divert visitors from walking in the mud.
Entering the cottage, herbs hung from every part of the ceiling, it smelled earthy, and minty. There was something cooking in a cauldron. Empty flask and bottles sat on a shelf, and some of them glew with magical liquids. The woman let go of his wrist and walked off to a little lever. Where she began to pump out some clear looking water. Taking a small piece of cloth she walked over to him again and handed him the cloth.
He stared at it for a while, before she finally grabbed his ankle, which startled him and made him fall on his rear. Ow. The hardwood floor surely broke something in his bum. She put the cold towel to his feet and began to scrub them. Turning the cloth black.
“I do not like visitors tracking mud, shoes or not,” she tells him. When finished she throws in the cloth in a basket.
What was this place?
“You look confused doubt you would understand if I told you the story now,” she tells him, “I am Orphelia a druid of these woods. I know the animals, I speak to them in a similar fashion than you do. And I eat little boys and girls who get lost in the forest.”
She takes a eating utensil towards his face. He does not know why she is shoving an eating utensil at him, till she forces it in his hands. She laughs. He does not know why she is laughing. Taking out two wooden bowls with a crack, she begins to put something from the cauldron into the bowls and drops them on the table. Food then? He had only ever hunted and ate what Magnar ate. He gets up from the floor. Bum is still sore.
Sitting on a wobbly chair he watches her and puts the utensil in the food. The food runs away and is always slipping off the utensil. Few minutes being fed up with the utensil being ineffective, he goes and dives in using his hands. She looks at him with disapproval, but does not scold him.
A year of trouble, is what Orphelia calls him. He throws some mint into one of her alchemical potions. She gets visitors who ask her for miracle brews. Orphelia is standing over the boiling cauldron. He watches her. He’s not like Magnar, nor is he like her. His skin is ashen, like undead. Stand him next to a zombie and the resemblance would be uncanny. Actually he did that and got smacked by Orphelia’s spoon. Except he had horns too, they were getting thicker and slowly beginning to curl. Only thing he had in common with Magnar were claws, except they weren’t retractable no matter how much he tried, and his teeth. Except they were not as sharp.
“I did it,” he tells her. He understands better what she says. His words are still simple sometimes.
“So you did,” Orphelia tells him, “This recipe aids the ill to get better. It does not cure diseases. Many people come in here thinking I can fix anything.”
“You said I am not a tiger,” he tells her, “And I am not a one of you.”
He gives her a very funny look. Even to this day he did not know who she was. Or what she was. A witch, a druid. Yet, her spoon was enchanted somehow to make the feral and untamed at peace or at least less likely to fight her. And she was strong enough to lift him with one arm.
“Both very true statements, my species is only female and you’re not,” she tells him, “But Metrodora was only a supplemental mother.”
“Then, how do I figure what I am?” he ask her.
“Visit the Lady in the Lake, she lives in waters crystal clear, she will reveal what you want to know,” Orphelia tells him.
Lady in the Lake, crystal clear waters? She is already grabbing a patched knapsack and putting bread, dried meats, nuts, and dried fruit into the bag. She grabs a waterskin and begins to fill it with water. She looks at her shelf, at the glowing liquids. She grabs a yellow green one and pours it into a smaller vial.
“This is for venom,” she tells him putting it in the bag.
She grabs a blue one you could have mistaken for actual water, however, it was a little thicker, shimmered with very small fragments of silver. She also begins to put it in a smaller vial.
“This is fairy ointment, it is meant for your wounds or burns, spread it on do not drink it,” she tells him.
She grabs a ladle of the brew they currently were cooking now. A deep violet shade, with a blue glittering hue to it.
“This is for diseases, if you are to get sick, add this to tea,” she said and she grabs a few leaves, she begins to break them down into a mortar and pestle, she then places it in a small cloth bag, “This is the tea.”
“Got it,” he tells her.
“And one more thing trouble,” Orphelia tells him
He looks to her. She hands him a carved wooden ring. Someone has carved faces of the forest. There is a rabbit, a deer, a mouse, pig, and a bird. He looks to her.
“This is a ring of your animal friends, you have a rare and natural talent, this is your guide to use when you need help from the forest,” Orphelia tells him.
“Why can you not just tell?” he asked her.
Not that he was reluctant to leave. He always felt more comfortable in the forest, but he knew she knew a lot. Orphelia looks at him.
“Because if I tell you then you will never find your purpose,” she tells him, “You cannot become complacent here. This is not your home. And I am not your reason.”
He nods. He understood.
“When do I go?” he ask her and she hands him his bag. Now, then. She had always been more like a teacher or a mentor. A guide. Though the only reason he spoke now was because of her knowledge and wisdom.She taught him of the animals and the plant life when they gathered them for her brews. He looks at her.
“Good luck,” Orphelia tells him.
“Thank you for your guidance,” he bows and walks out the door.
Magnar is lounging on a rock. He whistles to get his attention. Magnar’s ears twitch and he picks up his head. He can already smell the food, he recognizes the bag as well. He cocks his head to the side.
Where we going?
To find a Lady in the Lake.
Why are we going there?
Orphelia says I need a purpose and a reason
Could lying on a rock be a purpose and a reason?
No.
Come on let’s lie on a rock for a little while.
It will be dark if we just lounge on a rock.
We both can see in the dark.
True. Not the point though.
Magnar stretches and yawns, Fine. I am up.
They left Orphelia’s cottage two weeks ago. Magnar’s fur was soft, some would probably find the texture coarse, except he found comfort in the feeling. Both of them pick up their heads. A strange sound in the forest. Both of them stayed still, listening. Man’s laughter. There were people close by. He slinked off of Magnar’s back. Crouching on all fours, he slinked to the left into some bushes, and Magnar slinked off to the left. They watched from the cover of the brush.
A group of men, about five of them, were sitting around a campfire. They were eating bread, some kind of porridge. One man was playing a tune on an instrument. Their bags looked too fancy to be bandits. Merchants, he could see their wagon, horses were grazing on exposed grass. One man was tall, had a bushy beard that needed to be trim, and tufts of curly, wiry black hair. He wore a leather jerkin, over a line shirt. A fancy sword sat at his hip. Must have been there guard.
Well there were going to provide them no harm. They should be on their way to the Crystal Clear Waters. He began to slowly, cautiously, crawl out of the brush. As well as Magnar. He was certain he had not made much noise, but he heard one of the men, “What is wrong Arlow?”
“Something is watching us,” Arlow replied.
Arlow begins to walk towards the brush, he’s a tall man, a big man, like a giant of a man. Bummer. Arlow, the man with the big bushy beard is looking at him. His eyes widen looking at him. He stands up looking at Arlow and growling slightly.
“Rrrr,” Valeo tries to intimidate him.
“What is going on Arlow?” asked one of the men, he’s portly, and slight chubbier than the other men. He walks over to Arlow to notice him.
The man screams. Time to go. He whistles as he begins to run, turning his back on the men. Magnar runs out of the brush as well, which really startles the man, Magnar runs after him. Once he has heeled to his side he manages to slip onto his back. They wouldn’t be able to keep up with them, even on horses.
It is clear now. He softly pats Magnar’s head.
“I wonder how that man sensed us,” he says to Magnar.
Normally men don’t. He sighs. Well that was fun. No need to worry though. They were not going to do much they were scared out of their wits. The pace they took slowed and they began to walk calmly down the path. Up ahead was the sound of a battle. Magnar and him approached quietly. Rabbit warriors? Two colored rabbits a white one and a black one swords clashing. A brown one was already dead on the forest floor, its blood spilled out onto the leaves. Rabbits. He looks at his ring. A rabbit can help him!
“Why are you fighting?!” he ask loudly.
Both of the rabbits are startled by his question. The black one stares at him. Beady red eyes. Chainmail. A decorated sword. The white one looks annoyed, black beady eyes. He just smiles. The black one runs off.
“Hey,” the white rabbit says. She looks at him.
“Why did you interrupt?” she ask him.
“Because I was not going to get in a battle that I know nothing about,” he tells her.
“Should have just let me finish it then,” she tells him.
“Well I need to find a Lady in the Lake,” he replies, “and I did not want to wait for you to finish.”
“So you too then,” she says.
“Me too what?” he ask her.
“Looking for the Lady in the Lake, I am as well,” she says, “I am Princess Rosa of the Rabbit Kingdom. Or I was. Until the Black Rabbits killed my father and took my throne. I am going to the Lady of the Lake to obtain a sword that will slay their King.”
“You tell every stranger that?” he asked her.
“Hey! You said you needed to find her and needed my help, so I need yours,” she says, “Do you have a name?”
“No,” he replies.
“Guess I am addressing you as Boy,” Rosa tells him.
“Orphelia called me Trouble, Mother Tiger called me Cub,” he tells her, “Boy works.”
“You are a very weird,” Rosa replies.
He shrugs.
Magnar looks at Rosa. He looks at Magnar.
“He’ll let you on since you are not too heavy,” he tells her.
“Glad you don’t make ladies walk on their own,” Rosa hops on over and sits on Magnar’s back. She looks at him and he looks back at her.
He looks back to the forest. Magnar begins to walk down the forest path.
“Do you know where the Lady in the Lake is?” he ask her.
“I sure do,” Rosa begins to make crinkling noises and she takes out a map, she has drawn a path toward the the crystal waters. She circles where they just were, “Shouldn’t be too far, another week.” She tells him.
The lake glittered with a blue light, that seemed ethereal. They had been sitting at the bank’s edge for a few days now, making a camp near it. Yet, no Lady in the Lake showed. Rosa made another vegetable stew for them to eat. Magnar of course would not touch it, yet he had gotten use to the taste of dandelion stew.
“Is something supposed to be happening?” he ask Rosa.
“I am not sure,” Rosa tells him, “What if the tales are untrue? What if she does not exist?”
“That is not true,” he tells her quickly. He sounds assured, not worried, or concerned, nor upset. She looks at him.
“I admire the confidence,”
“Still not sure what we are suppose to exactly do,” he frowns and skips a rock across the surface, “Is there something that triggers her?”
“Praying?” Rosa suggest.
“We tried that,” he replies.
Magnar yawns, you both are being very loud.
“Hey Lady wake up!” he shouts across the lake.
Nothing. Magnar freezes his ears pick up and rotate. No he can hear it to. Horse’s steps. Rosa is now looking around. In the distance there is fire. People are coming. He quickly grabs Rosa and puts out the fire. Magnar gets up and begins to growl. His fur standing up. Hiding in the bushes, he watches as Magnar guards the camp. Men. Men are coming. With wagons. He notices one of them, the man wit the bushy beard.
“This is it,” Arlow says, “The Clear Lake.”
“What’s that up ahead?” asked another man.
Arlow steps forward and throws his torch, illuminating Magnar. He smiles. He recognizes him then?
“Just that tiger from about a week ago,” Arlow says, “Is that boy with you then kitty?”
“They do not seem friendly, maybe we should run,” Rosa suggest.
“Then you will not get that weapon,” he says.
He steps out of the bush. Arlow looks at him.
“Ah, so you are there, hiding in the bushes again,” Arlow tells him.
“Did you follow us?” he ask him.
“Follow a kid, no, we just happen to be looking for the Lady too,” Arlow tells him.
“So, then we have the same goal?” he ask, “We could work together. Because I cannot get the lady to wake up.”
Arlow begins to laugh. Why is he laughing at him?
“Work together, with a kid, a feral deamon,” Arlow smirks, “Why would I work with a child?”
Deamon. It is the first time he heard that word. That is not entirely true. One time a long long time ago, so long ago he cannot even remember if it happened that word was used.
“Deamon-
“-I will fill you in,” Arlow cuts him off unsheathing his sword, “we might not even need the lady of the lake, you would make us a pretty good fortune too. Ain’t that right boys.”
Now the men following behind him were unsheathing their weapons. The large man ran off to hide behind the wagons.
Arlow charges in. Magnar steps in front and grabs his leg, biting down hard on it. The leg bends, and twist like a tree branch. While Arlow and Magnar are busy two men are trying to pinch him and Rosa in. Rosa takes out her blade and blocks an attack with her sword. The other man charges in. He quickly steps aside from the man. The man loses his balance, which he takes as an advantage to trip him. The man falls flat on his face and he quickly pounces on top of the man. The man stares at him, his eyes are wide and he looks afraid. His horns and his ashen skin are reflected in this man’s brown eyes. He just smiles.
“P...lea….ease mercy. Deamon…..pl...ease I beg for your mer….mercy I was doin….doing what I was told,” the man sputters.
“Oh yeah, well I am doing what I was told then,” he tells the man and raises his hand, he feels the heat from his hands. An energy comes forward. It crackles.
He soothingly strokes the man’s cheek in a comforting manner Orphelia had done before, except as he did so, the man’s skin began to sizzle and crackled. The man began to scream out in pain. His flesh is beginning to blacken like burn wounds, though it is slowly beginning to boil, bubble and crack. As muscle is beginning expose. It too is beginning to boil and blacken, being eaten away that the energy was beginning to merely boil a hole through the man’s right cheek.
Getting off the man he pushes back his mane of long red hair and looks at the group of men who just witnessed the scene. He smiles at them.
“Who else wants some?” he ask.
Some of them drop their weapons and begin to run off. Arlow is still struggling with Magnar, he is getting exhausted. Rosa is still clashing blades with the other man, though both of them had stopped. Rosa seemed in shock and horror.
“You….evil…” the man sputters at him, he ignores Rosa and goes after him with his blade. Why did he not just run off like the other guy?
He moves out of the way. The man wasn’t even fighting with true spirit. Just grief. His footwork was all sloppy.
“Do not kill him!” Rosa calls out.
Except that he had sent a swiping motion of his energy at the man. It crackled and began to eat away at the skin, boiling, the smell of burnt skin, as the man two halves, his lower and upper body split into half. Entrails spilled out onto the grass, blood soaked into the mud. Each end had singing, blacken skinned were the invisible blade struck.
There is a quiet that settles. No one says anything. The men have vanished. The ones who valued their life. Arlow has given to his exhaustion, Magnar is chewing on his remains. Rosa is staring between him and Magnar.
“What are you? I thought you were a strange boy,” Rosa told him, “But this was not….the way to do it.”
He shrugs.
“That is why I came here,” he tells her, “To know what I am.”
“A monster,” Rosa tells him.
“What did you want me to do? Let them stab us?” he ask her.
“No, but,” Rosa turns away tears in her eyes.
She had too soft of a heart. It was survive or don’t.
“Do not be someone who goes against their word, you are the one who came here for a magical weapon to kill some King who killed your father,” he tells her, “Or what were you going to do, slightly maim him?”
“I would not have done it like this,” she tells him.
“Okay I do not know how you nicely murder someone, but good luck on that,” he tells her.
He looks to Magnar.
This human not very tasty.
Then stop eating him.
Magnar spits Arlow out. He looks at Rosa.
No. We are not taking her.
Magnar looks at the lake and his tail swishes.
I got my answer.
The concept of years never really applied to Valeo. He knew when his hair was getting longer or his horns were growing firmer. Age and years were more a foreign concept to a boy with wild red hair, that shined in the sun like flames, and cascaded down to his tailbone. A pointed tip and the way it flowed like a mane rather than hair. His feet were calloused so were his hands and they picked up things that his ethereal eyes spotted as interesting to him. Out of a man's backpack he found a pointed compass, it changed colors depending on where he was going. He did not feel like giving it back. Magnar walked at his side, as he always did. Older than him, but that did not change the relationship. Sometimes men came into the woods to hunt Magnar, sometimes they came to hunt him. Sometimes they hunted them both. The forest changed, and the paths were not always the same. But that was the fun of crossing it, was that one day the corridor might be this way and another day it would be different.
Magnar ears twitched. They were in the clearer part of the forest, to see what men might have dropped along the path. Somebody is burning something. Campfire and burning smell entirely different from each other. Magnar grumbled, but he placed a hand in front of Magnar and walked through the less dense brush entering a clearing.
Someone set up a pit and is burning a large pile of leaves. He looks around, to see two men bundling leaves together. One was a young man, more or less his age, wearing a tunic with pantyhose. His father wearing riding pants, with riding boots, and a tunic. They pause looking at him. He looks back.
“We mean no harm,” the man speaks like an idiot, or maybe he assumes he is an idiot.
“Why are you burning leaves?” he ask.
“So that way our village will not burn,” the man replies.
So they were just idiots.
“The forest burns at the ground, by removing the leaves the trees burn and your village burns,” he told them.
The man looks like he has made a stunning realization.
“Is that so? Is that the tree people knowledge?” the man ask him.
He is no tree person. He scowls and crosses his arms across his chest.
“I guess, just seemed like common knowledge,” he replies.
“How old are you?” the man ask.
He shrugs.
“I don’t know, I don’t bother myself with frivolous knowledge,”
“Guess time is different for different folk like you, mind if you tell our Lord that, about the leaves, bestow him with your common knowledge, is what you call it,”
Does this man not know who he is? It might be an opportunity to learn about where men come from and how they live.
“I mean I love bestowing common knowledge to Lords who should know not to remove leaves from the forest, but apparently do not,” he replies.
“What’s all that mean?” the man ask him.
“More common knowledge stuff,” he replies.
“You have a name?” the man ask.
Right he’d need a man name to fit in with the man city. Leaver? Brook? That seems like a common enough man name. If common man calls themselves Brook then.
“Vale,” he replies.
“That’s an odd name, why you named after a valley?” the man asked.
“Valeo,” he tweaked.
“That’s even odder,” man tells him, but has him follow him.
It took some time traveling through a forest that has been removed of leaves. These people really wanted to go out like a candle. He might have come from the forest, but he new certain things about fire. Watching people fail with fire utterly. Even better the village is made of wood. These people really wanted to go out dying aflame.
“This here is our village,” the man says, “We were really worried about the forest burning our homes. So a lot of the folks volunteered to clear up the forest.”
“Oh yeah, what could go horribly wrong building a wooden structure, around a forest with nothing to burn, but the trees and the village itself,” Valeo tells the man.
The man laughs. He has no idea what he’s talking about. The man points to a raised part of earth. Ah so at least the lord would have a way to flee before the fire completely engulfed his keep.
“Lord lives up, there come on,” the man tells him, “Names Edvard, Valeo. Who name you, your mom?”
“I named myself,” Valeo replied.
“Oh that’s gotta be nifty, my mom named me Edvard, but I always thought that I looked like a Henry, what you think?” Edvard ask him.
“I think you look like an idiot,” Valeo retorts.
“Idiot an odd name, but I like you, even if we just met, going to call myself Henry from now on, get the whole village to do so as well,” Edvard continues, “Oi Junior.”
“Yes pa,” the young man finally speaks, so his name is Edvard too.
“Going to call myself Henry from now on,”
Why is he even bothering talking to their Lord? It isn’t like he owes these people anything. If they want to go out in embers why shouldn’t he let them? Valeo still climbs up the hill with Edvard/Henry the keep is guarded by two men standing at the thick wooden doors.
“This fellow tree person would like to bestow the lord with his common tree knowledge,” Edvard announces. Judging by the body language of the guards, rigid and stiff they recognized what he is, near immediately.
“Edvard that’s not a tree person,” one of the guards said.
“Got the horns and the funny lookin’ skin,” Edvard says.
“No ears like leaves, and his horns are not antlers. Deamon, what do you want?” the second guard asked him.
“To be parted from this moron’s presence,” Valeo replies.
“Ey now that ain’t nice Valeo,” Edvard tells him.
Neither is further listening to you. He’s not even certain why he is involved in this circumstance. Mainly out of curiosity, but this city would not stand long. It is nice to know the town idiot brought him to a less than impressive mud and wood city. They would die, it is a fact of life in the woods. How many times e had seen small startups like this.
“Sorry idiot,” Valeo replies.
“Ah no problem I will take idiot anyday,” Edvard says with a smile, “Why didn’t you tell me you were a deamon?”
Both guards are snickering at this point.
“What’s so funny?” Edvard asked.
“Oh nothing,” the guards replied.
“Most the time people get it the first try,” Valeo tells Edvard.
“Get what?” Edvard asked.
“Deamon,” Valeo replies.
“You look nothing like a deamon, they usually bigger, and more destructive, that’s what mother taught me,” Edvard replies.
The Guards knew what is going on, it’s why they were laughing.
“I don’t want to actually see your Lord, have fun burning,” Valeo tells them waving his hand.
Later that Evening;
Valeo, huh? What a lame sounding name, but he guessed he’d take it to avoid an identity crisis like Edvard/Henry back at that village. Staring into the campfire, Magnar was enjoying his dinner of femur, while he had prepared a quick stew in a little pot. Both him and Magnar froze when they heard a twig snap. He would have put out the fire, but food. So he stood up, ready to defend himself or Magnar from attack. A middle age man came from around a tree, dirty brown hair, a leather jerkin, riding boots, a sword around his hip, quivers holding arrows, and a bow strapped to his back. A square jawline and a chiseled manly look. He smiles.
“Saw the fire, smelled the stew,” he said, “Mind if a tired hunter sits down.”
“I do,” Valeo replies, and he’s already sitting.
“How old are you kid?” he ask curiously picking up the iron lid of his cooking pot, stirring the stew.
“Don’t know,” he replies.
“Dangerous times to be out here alone, my name is Bernard, and yours?” he ask.
“It is Valeo,” he replies with a hand on his hip.
“Valeo, huh, odd name,” Bernard says, “But hey I am not one to judge. Except that you’re a Deamon, how is that going for you?”
“Fine thank you very much,” he makes objecting noises as Bernard puts his gross mouth to his stirring spoon to taste the stew.
“Taste good. Hot from the stove. But good. Do you mind?” Bernard takes it off the fire.
“I do mind, that is my food,” Valeo replies.
Bernard shrugs.
“Thanks for helping out an old man,” Bernard says.
Valeo scowls. Magnar looks at Valeo.
Should I kill him?
Can’t kill people for being a nuisance.
Bernard begins to use the spoon to slowly slurp up stew as to not burn himself. Valeo crosses his arms and continues to glare at Bernard. Who is chewing a piece of meat when he finally looks up at him.
“Something upsetting you?” Bernard asked, “Sit down, relax.”
“That’s my food, and this is my camp,” Valeo huffs.
“Oh?” Bernard looks around surprised, “I thought you set all of this up for me. Made me dinner, a place to stay.”
Valeo steps forward, he looks at Magnar, okay we can kill him. Bernard raises his hands up and makes an objecting noises him.
“Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t make a move,” Bernard tells him, “See you are currently surrounded by five other men in the trees.”
He can see in the dark he doesn’t see anyone. Mans trying to pull the wool over his eyes.
“If you do not believe me,” Bernard lowers his hand, an arrow comes soaring from the trees and strikes Magnar in the shoulder. Who roars in pain. Valeo looks at Magnar, “So you see.” Bernard continues, “You’re going to lay out your bed for me and I am going to eat this stew. Without your objection. Go tend to your house cat.”
Valeo moves quickly to tend to Magnar. He visits Orphelia from time to time to acquire healing material, so he quickly grabs Muris. Tickling him, so he will relax and open up his mouth. Sticking his hand down Muris’ storage pipe, you do not want to go into the feeding pipe, he grabs out the fairy ointment.
“Hey that looks nice too, I want you dump out the contents of your bag too, what’s yours is mine, isn’t it?” Bernard says.
“Muris will not like be dumped onto the floor,” Valeo tells him, taking the arrow out of Magnar’s fur. The arrow did not go into deep. It is just a surface wound with how thick Magnar’s skin is. They should leave after slapping fairy ointment on the wound. Valeo looks at Magnar who seems to understand. It meant leaving his whole camp. He could not see the supposed people in the trees. Yet an arrow came from behind them.
“No, no you’re not going anywhere,” Bernard told him as he tried to walk off, “You will sleep right here with me. We’re like friends now.”
Next Morning
“Yeah the kid is sleeping right there,” Bernard’s voice could be heard. He was not sleeping. He had not slept all night. He kept awake and told Magnar to sleep. Things had bothered him about last night, the arrow had a string tied to it. This man had setup a trap. The string was invisible to see at night, but during the day it glint at the end of the arrow. Valeo slowly opened his eyes to see who Bernard is speaking to. Some men in fancy armor. It glitters, they almost look like. Half Celestials. Shite. This is bad. Half Celestials. A Deamon Hunter. How did he find him? Now isn’t the time to panic. Survive. He must survive. That is what the old song told him.
“Magnar,” he whispers into the tigers ear, “We have to go.”
Bernard is exchanging coin with them as Magnar is beginning to slowly wake up. As he is about to give them a slip, shining, glittering armor blurs his vision. A sword made of glittering light is being pointed at him.
“Not so fast,” the man tells him.
Magnar growls, showing off his canines. Valeo glares at the man intensely.
“Do you know who we are?” the man in glittering armor ask.
“Yeah someone who stands out way too much in a fight,” Valeo tells him.
The man cracks his neck.
“I wanted to avoid killing a child today,” the man says, “But we seek revolution. This land must be purged of your kind.”
Shite. Here went nothing. He pointed at the man’s sword as it was raised above his head. Think of shattering. Think of the symbols on the stone. The man’s sword ruptured into fine shiny particles of silver. Woah his sword wasn’t even anything special. He had been certain it had been enchanted. Time to go, getting on Magnar’s back Magnar at full speed tackled through the man and kept running.
When he believed they had fully given them the slip, Valeo is looking down a path that in the distance leads to a city with a stone wall. A sign in the road reads in carved lettering Redfort city. Magnar growls at the city and Valeo would have abstained from the city as well. Though Bernard found him, looked for him. Why? Who were those strange men in glittering armor? There was a large saw mill that sat the river's edge, the wind picked up, and a piece of paper flew into his face. Valeo scowled at it, and read what it said.
“Look-ing,” Valeo rolled his hands on the word, “For. Woo-d. Cut-ters.” Looking for wood cutters. Here? Valeo looked at Magnar, Magnar looked at him.
“You’re not going to like this,” he tells Magnar.
Magnar looks at the city. Valeo can almost read fear.
You can’t.
Those weird men are still around.
What are you planning?
“Just for a little while, hiding where they would not think I would be hiding, I already got a gig, woodcutter,” Valeo replies with a smile showing off the paper Magnar cannot read.
Magnar looks at him.
What about me?
“Lie low, we will meet in the cover the night,” Valeo replies.
Magnar gives him a reluctant look, but gives him the slip. Walking off into the brush. Hopefully this plan would work. All right time to talk to the head lumber mill. If need be he had a lot of tricks up his sleeve so to speak. Walking through the clearing and towards the lumber mill, he had never been in a village long with other men before. He did not look like them and so far all of them wanted to hunt him for some reason. Still he strolled up to the lumber mill, there a cottage a bit of a distance way could be seen. Must be where the man who runs the operation lived. There was already a sand brown haired young man, holding the paper in his hands knocking on the door. He turned around to look at him.
“Never seen you before,” he says to him. Actually he looks repulsed by him. Despite them being in the same age group.
“Glad your eyes work because I have never seen you before,” Valeo retorts, “Shocking.”
“Never seen you around and you’re a smartarse,” the kid tells him.
“You have astute observational skills,” Valeo slow claps.
“You looking to make me mad,” the kid sneers.
“Seemed like you were already mad, I think in this case you’re looking for an excuse to be mad,” Valeo quips.
“What is going on here?” asked the deep, bellowing voice of a very tall, ginger haired man. He’s tall, his hair is clean shaven and his beard is neatly groomed. His vest and linen pants say he’s dressed to work the mill. He’s older, middle aged. His eyes fall on him. Valeo knows that look.
“Nothing sir,” the young man’s tune changes quickly, “I was just hoping I could talk to you about that woodcutting job.”
“And you?” he ask him.
“Same,” Valeo replies.
“I know Hendrick, so who are you?” the man ask him.
“Valeo,” the more he says it the more it sticks, the more that annoys him, like he is being tethered to it.
“Valeo, you a half deamon then?” the man ask.
“You’re not really going to entertain him Sir Gregoff?” Hendrick ask.
Gregoff is studying him. He doesn’t make him nervous. An owlbear will give you the same curious look, deciding whether you’re one of it’s own or not. Man and other species were not really different in the way they assessed you. So Valeo just continued to stare Gregoff down. Everybody needed to know where they stood with each other. He understood it. It didn’t bother him in any sense.
“Yes, I am a Half Deamon,” he replies.
“I figured because you look too human to be anything that truly is spit out by the Oblivion,” Gregoff says, “So, why do you want this woodcutting job?”
“My family, left me,” he says, imitating the way a boy spoke once, overhearing the conversation and the nuisances in his voice. The natural breaks to make it real. Any real good liar knows not to make elaborate lies. Keep it simple, the more you add to the story the less believable it becomes. He imitated the breathiness and looked away like he did not want to say any more. Gregoff looked sympathetic. It worked? Wait! It worked.
“That must have been hard,” Gregoff says putting a hand on his shoulder. Even Hendrick is looking him over in a different light.
“I did not know,” Hendrick said.
“Are you okay?” Gregoff asked.
“I’m...just...scared…” Valeo tells him.
“How about we get you a meal and we talk about the job,” Gregoff says, “The people of Redfort won’t really understand. Especially now that those members of the Order of Purity have moved into town. But once they see you working and helping out, they will come around.”
He did not know this Order of Purity Gregoff talked about, but walked into his cottage anyway. As long as he had protection from Bernard. Magnar prints would lead them off somewhere else and probably lose scent of his tracks. Once that happened he could give this town the slip and move on as he always did. Gregoff began preparing bread and some cured meat.
“I know it isn’t exactly what you’d call a home cooked meal, but it will get something in your stomach,” Gregoff said.
“Thank you,” he knew manners counted in these moments. He had learned to subsist on food before, so eating everyday wasn’t important to him. The saltiness of the meat with the bread tasted good, man knew how to cure meat at least.
“The job isn’t hard,” Gregoff tells him, “I have three different crews. I have the woodcutters, they use the axes to cut down the logs for the town usage. Those who work in the lumber mill and those who cut down the trees. Your job would be to cut down logs for the town use. Have you ever used an axe before?”
How hard could that be?
“Yes, all the time,” Valeo tells him.
Gregoff nods.
“Lad knows his work, then if you are willing to work for the food and the board, you can stay here until I introduce you into the town, how does that sound?” Gregoff asked.
“Works for me,” Valeo replies.
“And if you need anyone to talk to,” Gregoff places a hand on his, “You can come to me.”
No one has ever touched him in that way before. It felt strange and foreign. Quite honestly Valeo did not like it, it felt too personal and uncomfortable. But he tried to play it off like the boy who lost his parents, woest me.
“Thank...you….you do not know what….that means to me” Valeo said looking down and pretending to hide tears.
“You have been here for three months,” Gregoff mentions one morning. Why did that matter, Valeo never kept track of these things.
“I probably should go,” Valeo replied.
Gregoff concerns.
“No, no that isn’t at all what I was going to say,” Gregoff tells him, “Octavius thrown out his back again and need someone to help him in his brewery.”
“Like a Crone brewery?” Valeo ask him curiously.
“No, like a tavern,” Gregoff scrunches up his face.
“You want me to help him then?” Valeo ask.
“I figured it is about time to introduce you to the town, everyone is getting use to your logs, despite not knowing how to use an axe,” he was going to bring that up again?
“Now I do,” Valeo tells him, “And I was going to know whether you had to teach me or not. So I knew. In a technical sense.”
Gregoff raises his brow. Yet playfully passes off his response. Gregoff hands him a bowl of spiced porridge.
“You up for the task?” Gregoff ask.
“I guess,” Valeo replies.
“That’s not exactly confidence your building me here,” Gregoff replied.
“What is more fun than giving drunk people a smelly drink that taste neither good nor smells good, I guess is I will help, I won’t enjoy any moment of it,” Valeo replies.
Gregoff just laughs. He sees him as a cute boy that came out of his shell. He wished Gregoff was scared off by him more. Instead he treated him like he were a small child. That anything and mostly everything he said was folly. He disliked that about Gregoff. The longer he stayed here the more he got annoyed with his habits. He was certain someone else was supposed to find them endearing and that’s what created bonds. It frustrated Valeo to no end and made him want to beat his head against a wall. They ate and said nothing for a little while. They washed up and Gregoff smiled at him.
“You know it has been good having you here Valeo,” Gregoff says, Valeo notices he is being genuine. Does he view himself, as? Oh gods. Please no. He doesn’t want him to get attached. How the heck is he going to leave this place if he gets attached? Like he’s some stray cat he’s let in.
“I like being here,” playing the part, it’s working too well now.
“Good, I am glad, I don’t want you to ever feel like you are not wanted,” Gregoff tells him. Now it’s just the generic crap. The only reason he’s been hidden in Gregoff’s cottage is because he knew everybody would have mixed reactions. Than there is this Order of Purity people he hasn’t met yet, but judging on Gregoff’s outlook on them they aren’t so keen on half deamons either. Do not give him that load of garbage, when he knows he has been, hunted, chased out, stared out, and most people have been scared of him because of the way he looks.
God he hates that sentimental nothing people spew. Walking out of the door, Valeo did not feel a sense of nervousness walking the path towards the town. He was use to stares, questions, the way people’s eyes dilated when they looked at him. The different way people showed fear then they gazed upon his physical being. That stuff did not really bother him. He looked funny compared to them, man reacted that way to anything that didn’t agree with their sensibility of normal. Why should that bother him? It was their flaw. Not his.
Passing the threshold of wall to town, Redfort city was a mixture of a town that hadn’t expected to survive the daunting trials of the forest. Some of the older buildings were made of a mixture of clay, thachtc roofing, and wood. While the newer buildings of the expanded city were made of stone and had roofs built at levels for irrigation when it rained. The town center had been moved from a small place, now used as a training area for squires, and half a pig pen, to a newer looking one with a water fountain and a woman with six wings, pouring water from her hands. She was beautiful, in an ethereal, and celestial way. Her water was sparkling, clear, glittering. So clear and glittering he assumed the water was not coming from a well.
Men in glittering silver armor patrolled the streets. And in the center of the town for all to see was a cathedral. With stained glass windows, that depicted six winged individuals performing miracles. Healing the sick. Aiding the injured. Helping guide the dead through death. There is collective gasp looking at him though Gregoff holds on tight to his shoulder. People were staring at him, whispering. Uttering phrases. He was guided to a tavern, in the back was a small brewery, and in the front was the area for entertaining guest.
An elven woman played the lute, as few of the town watched her, drinking their morning beer, and eating their morning breakfast before tending the fields. The elven woman in terms of everyone else around here, is very pretty, long woody brown hair, with strands of blond, tan skin, though lighter than the Moss Woods. She must have been a Deep Forest Elf. The voice of a celestial, said the flier. She apparently is to be in town for a week.
Maid girls watched her with a mix of envy and awe. Some too ugly to admire her music, were whispering things to put down her appearance. Gregoff guided him into the back. There a small kitchen prepared food with a single chef, and a couple of woman rolling out bread, cutting up vegetables. They must be preparing for tonight’s meal. In a smaller doorway the scent of yeast fermenting is pungent, strong, there are a few mini sylos. Bags of barley. Barrels where the ale sat till the fermentation process is complete.
A man with large glasses, large that they didn’t fit his pensive, bony face, with wispy brown or was it blonde hair, with slight hints of gray, sat in the corner writing something down on it seemed a log. Man was thinner than a twig, with a bony, pointy nose. His glasses seemed to manage to slip off from time to time, which he would just push back up.
“Octavius,” Gregoff calls out.
Octavius startles and drops his quill.
“You have to announce yourself Gregoff,” Octavius tells him.
“I just did,” Gregoff tells him picking up the quill. Their exchanged seemed friendly. They must be really good friends. The way they exchanged smiles towards each other, Gregoff practically laughing at Octavius. Gregoff guides Valeo in front of Octavius.
“Ah so this is him then,” Octavius says inspecting him, his glasses slowly sliding off as he did so, “You know anything about fermentation?”
“I use to brew potions with a Crone,” Valeo replies.
Octavius looks at him, well more like raises his head up to look down his glasses that have slid down to the tip of his hooked nose.
“Interesting,” Octavius whispers, he stands up and grabs a walking cane, “very interesting. Come walk with me.”
Gregoff smiles, “I will come get you when the sun turns to early evening. Do not go out in the city alone.”
Valeo stares at Octavius. This man has either lost his marbles a long time ago, or he is just this annoying. The man limped through the small room.
“Making beer is not all that different from, what did you say, ah yes potions,” Octavius said, “They are the same principle. You have your barley, and the fermentation blends all the flavors together. The boiling process cleans out any of the impurities. Surely you understand.”
“Yes, except one affects people negatively and another affects people in more various ways the user intended,” Valeo replies.
Octavius begins to laugh loudly.
“You are a funny one I can see why Gregoff likes you,” Octavius tells him.
“You are the second person not put off by me,” Valeo remarks.
“Am I? You mean Gregoff,” Octavius looks reminiscent, “Ah, I suppose. Before we got old we were quite adventurous.” Octavius smiles.
“What do I need to do to help?” Valeo asked.
“Well originally I was going to have you help me brew,” Octavius told him, “I can get one of the other lads to do that. You said you worked with a Crone. I have a plan to make the town a new ale. I’d go out, but can’t use much of a sword due to my injury. So, I’d like you to come back with ingredients you think would go good in ale.”
“I never had ale before, how am I supposed to know that,” Valeo replies.
Octavius ponders.
“Right you are,” Octavius tells him. He uses his hands to usher Valeo to follow him. He does so. Can he leave now? Maybe he can use this opportunity to leave. Octavius grabs a spoon and continues to have him follow him without a word. They walk back into the tavern. A tall man, with graying hair, a bit of a belly, is behind the bar counter, filling the tap. As he is doing so, Octavius runs a spoon under the tap. The man glares at Octavius, who gives the man a toothy grin, “Open and taste.”
Ew. Valeo does so. There is several looks from the servers and even the man behind the counter. It taste like nothing, but fizzy, water. It is so bland and yeasty.
“It is for experiment reasons,” Octavius tells the people watching, giving them a dismissive wave.
“It is gross,” Valeo coughs.
“Right you are,” Octavius tells him, “So. Figure out, how to make it taste better.”
“You are not seriously putting him on a mission, that he will certainly fail,” the bartender says.
“Dear brother, he brewed potions, that must account for something,” Octavius replies, “Besides I need someone to fix your ale recipe.”
The man grumbles and looks at him, “Desmond. You?”
“Valeo,” he replies.
Little while later;
Well that was easy enough. Octavius is under the impression he went out looking for ingredients to try. All he needed to do was grab Muris and call Magnar, to leave. That should be easy enough. Gregoff would be working the lumber mill and while he may not be shocked by his appearance, he isn’t as observant as he likes to think he is. Walking towards the threshold between the dirt path and Gregoff’s cottage, Valeo notices something. That dark brown leather armor, almost like the fur of a dark mare, standing at the lumber mill talking to Gregoff with a piece of paper. Bernard. Shit he stayed too long.
He needed to leave now. Hiding behind a tree he watched the exchange. Gregoff shook his head. He needed to get closer without alerting either of them. So he took a path behind trees to hide behind Gregoff’s cottage. There isn’t much cover from here to the river’s edge. He hid behind a log pile.
“No sorry,” Gregoff replies.
“And you are certain?” Bernard ask.
“Certain as I’d ever be Deamon Hunter,” Gregoff replies.
Valeo looks at the cottage window, he has enough cover from the logs. He slightly opens the window and slips into the cottage. Muris is sleeping under the bed. Gregoff still hasn’t figured out where the snoring is coming from. Valeo grabs him by his handle, Muris startles awake.
“Just me,” Valeo tells Muris, “We have to go.”
As much as Gregoff is nice, nice doesn’t mean much. It was time for him to find somewhere else. With the Order of Purity in town and Bernard searching town, obviously someone would rat him out. Grabbing some bread he points it to Muris.
“If I feed you, will you not eat my food for the road?” Valeo ask Muris.
Muris merely licks the top of it’s teeth. He’s going to guess that’s a yes and he hands Muris some bread. Okay. What to take. An axe that will be helpful. What else? The door to the cottage opens and Valeo slips under the bed where he had stored Muris. Gregoff walks in, heavy boots. He forgot to close the window, such a rookie mistake. Gregoff walks towards the window and looks out of it. Trying to cover the mouth of a mimic bag is a lot harder than you think when there is a lot of surface area.
Gregoff looks around. Leave. Leave. Leave. Gregoff walks off. He waits for a few minutes. Then slips out from the bed. Have to be quicker. The door opens again and Gregoff is staring at him. Shit sauce.
“Have to admit you are extremely cunning,” Gregoff tells him, smiling.
“Thank you for not telling Bernard where I am,” Valeo replies, “While I honor that, I have no commitments to you.”
“I already assumed that,” Gregoff tells him, “But what is your plan, to continue running.”
Valeo shrugs. It is most of his life.
“I want a full explanation Valeo, you’re not a bad kid nor an evil one, else the town and I would have been slaughtered long ago,” Gregoff tells him, “I want the truth.”
Valeo sighs. He guesses he owes Gregoff the truth after sticking up for him and letting him stay here.
“Fine,” Valeo says.
So he does. Explaining every event up to this point. About his life. Who he really is. What has experienced in life. Gregoff just watches him and says nothing the entire time. He listens with consideration. He’s never seen someone with that much genuineness in their expression.
“You could have told me all of this from the start,” Gregoff tells him brushing his hand across his arm. Whenever Gregoff does so it makes Valeo uncomfortable. He does not like when he touches him in that manner. Valeo pulls his arm away, Gregoff doesn’t look disappointed.
“I do not think everyone has the patience you have,” Valeo tells him, “So I didn’t say.”
“Well that is true,” Gregoff laughs, “But trust me. All you’re going to do is continue running your whole life if you do not find a support system that will protect you. Stay Valeo.”
Valeo stares at Gregoff.
“Truthfully and honestly, I do not think this town can protect me,” Valeo tells him.
“It has for the last three months, trust me,” Gregoff tells him.
“And to be honest I don’t trust you,” Valeo continues.
“That hurts,” Gregoff frowns, “Look I didn’t give you out. We don’t like the Deamon Hunters any more than you do.”
What should he do? It is obvious Gregoff wants him to stay due to some emotional bond. He didn’t have that bond with Gregoff. His pleading was merely annoyance. Grabbing Muris, he walked past Gregoff to leave this town. He rather run than stay in one place. As he walked out of the cottage, the wind began to pick up furiously. Valeo continued walking towards the forest, till another scrap of paper flew into his face. It was torn. Barely legible, it read; Best Ale in Town.
Valeo stares at the paper and looks around the trees.
“Really!” Valeo shouts at the trees, “How do you know, whoever you are that this is the best course of action!”
The wind picks up once again. Valeo grumbles.
“Why should I stay? I owe these people nothing!” for a long time there is no response, as he continues to walk towards the forest. The wind picks up furiously again. Valeo ignores it. As he walks into the bush, city behind, the corridor of the forest must have changed as he walks into a cemertery. Valeo frustratingly screams.
“Okay I get it,” Valeo shouts at no one. Walking out of the bush and storming back to Gregoff’s cottage. Who is just sitting, looking defeated. Valeo hands him the scrap of paper, “I guess I am helping your friend.”
“Two glorious years our town has been placed not by a Celestial, but someone with Abyssal blood,” Gregoff raises a glass, “He has given us wood for our hearths. An Ale that taste better, sorry Desmond. He has helped the woman clean their laundry. He has helped men and woman in the fields. This is a celebration for him.”
Sitting at the chipped wooden table of the tavern, a group of villagers have gathered around a cake one of the woman, Ingrid made. Holding glasses of the ale he had helped brew. He hadn’t considered that people would ever change their minds about him. Then Gregoff is having him blindfolded, walking down a forest path, into the tavern. Where a meal and celebration has been placed in his honor. He is not sure the words to describe this moment. Nor sure how he should feel about the whole scenario. He knew he had to leave soon. This was not a home. He did not feel at home here. He just tried to pretend and smiled at the people.
“Wow thank you everyone,” Valeo says, mimicking the giddiness people express when they are happy.
“Valeo, we would like to honor you a permanent place to stay in the village,” Desmond offers.
He could not stay. He should not stay. He was not man. And the Order of Purity certainly would not let them honor a Deamon. Not when six winged Celestial statues guarded and patrolled the town, like stone whisperers.
“Only if I get to build the house,” Valeo replies.
The village laughs. All of this feels wrong. Still the music begins to play and everyone begins to dance. They seem to be having a good time. All because of him? The concept made no sense to him. He just did what everyone else did. It is not special. It is not even worth praise. Managing to slip out of the tavern when no one was watching. It was time to leave. That was his current gut instinct. Heading down the alleyway, he was staying with Alma, daughter of Ingrid, and Ingrid’s husband Anders. Heading into their home, grab Muris, grab what he could, and leave. Magnar is prepared for all of this and so was he. He had been planning for a while.
Entering their simple stone home, he squinted there was silver armor sitting in chairs, sipping on drinks. Bernard standing in the corner of the room. Valeo looked at them. Fine. He’d fight them if he had to. Or should he flee? He was getting tired of them following him. Still, how did they know he’d come back here? No some of them had celestial magic. Forget the stuff. Leave. Running towards the door, a woman stood in front of the door. Ingrid her hair tied up in a loose bun, an apron with flour on it. Valeo looked at her.
“Do not look so confused,” Ingrid told him, “The moment you came to town. I knew there was something about you. Took me a while to put two and two together, but you’re that Deamon child Erada spawned. I had assumed, she killed herself after killing you, but it seems she had a soft heart. I do not know how you survived, nor do I care how you survived. I do know you are an abomination.”
He did not care about any of what she has said. He always assumed there was some kind of arsehole in the town.
“Well, hey at least you confessed that you’re the town arsehole. Wonder if anyone is going to look at you the same way, when they know you will stab them in the back,” Valeo tells her, feeling energy from his hand, “Difference is I am not going to let you stand in my way.” The knights are getting up from the chair.
Ingrid raises a brow.
“I am not worried, I have the protection of the Celestial,” Ingrid tells him.
Well glad, she could not worry when she is writhing in pain. Survive. Flee. He did not necessarily have to kill her. Just get her out of the way. Stepping forward, he grab the sleeve of her dress. Something isn’t right. His unoccupied hand, his left, burns as one of the Knights grabs his wrist. He’s starting to feel faint. The world is beginning to spin a little. As he begins to collapse from weakness. Was the whole entire town in on this? Payback. He will get payback.
Ingrid bends down and waves a little vial, “I will explain just before you take this nap. I am surprised it did not take ahold sooner. All well. The Order will deal with you.” she spits at him. The world begins to fade to black.
Sitting at the chipped wooden table of the tavern, a group of villagers have gathered around a cake one of the woman, Ingrid made. Holding glasses of the ale he had helped brew. He hadn’t considered that people would ever change their minds about him. Then Gregoff is having him blindfolded, walking down a forest path, into the tavern. Where a meal and celebration has been placed in his honor. He is not sure the words to describe this moment. Nor sure how he should feel about the whole scenario. He knew he had to leave soon. This was not a home. He did not feel at home here. He just tried to pretend and smiled at the people.
“Wow thank you everyone,” Valeo says, mimicking the giddiness people express when they are happy.
“Valeo, we would like to honor you a permanent place to stay in the village,” Desmond offers.
He could not stay. He should not stay. He was not man. And the Order of Purity certainly would not let them honor a Deamon. Not when six winged Celestial statues guarded and patrolled the town, like stone whisperers.
“Only if I get to build the house,” Valeo replies.
The village laughs. All of this feels wrong. Still the music begins to play and everyone begins to dance. They seem to be having a good time. All because of him? The concept made no sense to him. He just did what everyone else did. It is not special. It is not even worth praise. Managing to slip out of the tavern when no one was watching. It was time to leave. That was his current gut instinct. Heading down the alleyway, he was staying with Alma, daughter of Ingrid, and Ingrid’s husband Anders. Heading into their home, grab Muris, grab what he could, and leave. Magnar is prepared for all of this and so was he. He had been planning for a while.
Entering their simple stone home, he squinted there was silver armor sitting in chairs, sipping on drinks. Bernard standing in the corner of the room. Valeo looked at them. Fine. He’d fight them if he had to. Or should he flee? He was getting tired of them following him. Still, how did they know he’d come back here? No some of them had celestial magic. Forget the stuff. Leave. Running towards the door, a woman stood in front of the door. Ingrid her hair tied up in a loose bun, an apron with flour on it. Valeo looked at her.
“Do not look so confused,” Ingrid told him, “The moment you came to town. I knew there was something about you. Took me a while to put two and two together, but you’re that Deamon child Erada spawned. I had assumed, she killed herself after killing you, but it seems she had a soft heart. I do not know how you survived, nor do I care how you survived. I do know you are an abomination.”
He did not care about any of what she has said. He always assumed there was some kind of arsehole in the town.
“Well, hey at least you confessed that you’re the town arsehole. Wonder if anyone is going to look at you the same way, when they know you will stab them in the back,” Valeo tells her, feeling energy from his hand, “Difference is I am not going to let you stand in my way.” The knights are getting up from the chair.
Ingrid raises a brow.
“I am not worried, I have the protection of the Celestial,” Ingrid tells him.
Well glad, she could not worry when she is writhing in pain. Survive. Flee. He did not necessarily have to kill her. Just get her out of the way. Stepping forward, he grab the sleeve of her dress. Something isn’t right. His unoccupied hand, his left, burns as one of the Knights grabs his wrist. He’s starting to feel faint. The world is beginning to spin a little. As he begins to collapse from weakness. Was the whole entire town in on this? Payback. He will get payback.
Ingrid bends down and waves a little vial, “I will explain just before you take this nap. I am surprised it did not take ahold sooner. All well. The Order will deal with you.” she spits at him. The world begins to fade to black.
Trigger Warning - I did not hold back on this chapter. If torture is something you don't like to read then you have been warned
The chains burned his skin, clamped tightly on his wrist, the metal threatening to break his wrist. His shoulders were sore from being dangled by them. The chains were glittering, golding and had celestial energy throbbing through them. Despite seeing well in the dark, there was a faint blue light to everything and the bars of the dungeon were made of silver. He heard voices coming down, smooth stone, the stone his knees were bent on was cold. Very cold. It was cold down here in fact, he could see his breath. A man in dark, midnight robes, accompanied by another man in similar fashion looked through his cell like they were be entertained by some kind of beast.
“Curious isn’t it, this one threw us off for two year because it lived among people,” one of the man said.
Fighting against the chains he tried to lunge forward. Once he found a way. Once he found a way he would free himself and survive.
“Note it’s true nature is beast like,” the man continues.
“Better than someone running their mouth, kill me or don’t coward,” Valeo hisses.
The man looks at him with his squared headdress.
“Kill you, that will be in do time, first we must cleanse you,” the man says, “Evil is resurrected as evil if it dies impure. You will get your turn.”
The two men walk off. He’s left to silence at first, till it is interrupted, shattered by screams of agony. A few guards in glittering armor come down the steps, dragging a naked man the steps. As they pass his cell, the man is livid with bruises like that of dead meat. He is black and purple, despite the original color of his skin being red. His wings have been torn off and then burned at the ends. His nails have been ripped off, bleeding. Blood has left a trail. The man looks into the cell. He is crying. There is fear in his eyes.
Valeo watches. They call themselves the Order of Purity. The sight makes him angry. He will get them back for this. He fiddles with his chains. Just have to break free. He tries to channel his abyssal energy only to feel an electric shock down his arm. He growls, “Rrrr.”
One of the guards hearing the racket walks over to the cell.
“Those are chains of the celestial, not breaking out of those unless you pray for a miracle, oh wait you can’t,” the man throws back his head in a bright, silver helmet and laughs, “hahaha.” he turns to the other guard locking the cell door, “Did you hear me?”
“What?” the guard ask.
“I told him the only way he was going to break out of those chains, was if he prayed for a miracle,” the guard laughs again and now his partner joins in.
“A Deamon praying for a miracle,” both of them laugh in synchronicity with each other as they head back up the steps.
There is more silence. There is nothing down here. There is not a single noise. Beside the other half Deamons whimpering in pain. It stops for a while. Valeo wonders if he’s dead. Then there is nothing. He doesn’t not know how long it has been. Just quiet. Time passes. Though he’s not sure how much. He hears footsteps coming down the steps. Four guards. One man in a squared headdress, dark blue robes, his hands are held in a prayer, he is holding beads that are glowing with magic, he is chanting in a strange language. He stops, pauses and looks into his cell. He stares at him coldly.
“Shame, this is the boy,” the man says, he expects no one to answer, “Normally we do not deal in the death of children. Though this is a very rare occasion, we rarely find deamons so young. Better at hiding than others.”
He turns to the cell where the other Deamon had been placed.
“Pity, he did not survive the purification, well my child, it is your turn,” the priest tells him.
Valeo growls under his breath.
“Yes I heard you were feisty, we will have to fix that,” the priest waits for the guards to open the cell. They do so. They put a collar around his neck tightly. He can barely breathe with this on him. They unbound his wrist chains and hook a chain to the collar around his neck.
“You have two ways to do this, walk, at our side like a civil creature, or be dragged,” the priest tells him and commands the men to walk.
“Ci-vil...says a ...dog collar,” Valeo chokes out.
The Priest pays him no mind and they begin to walk up the steps. The stone floor is so very very cold. The whole building is illuminated by blue light. Bright, dark blue crystals are laid out like lights, giving this place its aura. No one looks at him. Everyone seems busy praying to Celestial angels crafted of marble, staring at judging them as they walked by. Send down a hallway, the door is opened to illuminate a bathhouse. The water is unusually clear. Very unusually clear. The energy off the water is very clear. Purified water.
“Ha…” Valeo coughs as he tries to speak, “It is nice of you….to...bathe me...before you torture me.”
“That tongue of yours will be silenced,” the priest tells him. As the four guards had been escorting him. One takes a dagger and begins to use to tear off his tunic and hose. When his clothes are off, it is extremely noticeable how frigid this place is. The guards throw him into the water. It shocks his system how cold it is. The water is freezing and it is already burning his skin. One of the Guard steps in as he tries to swim out. The guard grabs him by the forehead and forces him down into the water. Because of the collar he can barely breath as he dipped into the cold water. Water goes up his nose and he is instanously drowning and freezing.
“Pure Mother,” the priest voice says, as light from the crystal appears like moonlight on the water, “We bring you another impure sin of the world.”
The Guard pulls him up for air, except that isn’t quite the right word as he is gasping for air and choking before he submerged back into the water, without time to recover.
“Someone’s cursed thoughts brought this child here today,” the priest says. He’s so cold. He can’t stop his body from this trembling, shiver, there is water in his nose, his eyes burn so he has to close them every time he is brought back, up. The water burns his throat, it is scalding like heat, but so cold in his mouth. When it goes down it is like the feeling like he is going to vomit, “And while we have no sympathies for the Deamon. We have sympathies for a child brought into this world from someone unclean. We beg for your strength. To judge his character and guide us into the right light.”
There is chanting and the water rumbles. This time he is not allowed to come back up. The guard keeps him down as the water surrounds him. He can’t breath. He can’t breath. He’s going to drown. His arms flail in the air, the guard continues to force him down. His vision is going blurry. No. No. The first voice. The very voice he ever heard has a child comes back. It comforts him with the thoughts of survival. He mustn’t let them scare him. He must survive. He will kill them. He will kill them all. The water turns scarlet colored and he is finally brought back up. Two guards raise him up out of the water. Yet he is too weak to stand. He can’t breath. He is coughing. Choking. His body is trembling not doing the things he says. He is going to vomit. He does so on the white marble floor. It taste of iron. As crimson smears across the white flooring. He feels clammy, sick and weak.
“You see the color of the water, the Purest Mother does not see you worth salvation,” the Priest tells him.
“...so...so..some….ba...bath….it managed...to clear...up...my...my my sinus problems…” he spits some of his bloody spit at the Priest feet. And laughs. Despite the trembling.
The Priest says nothing as two guards pick him up and drag him down the hall he originally was brought down to. It is so hard to focus right now. His hair is dripping. He’s so cold and his heart is racing. There is infernal wrath bubbling inside of him, yet he cannot act out on his rage. Every fiber of his body demands the action of moving and fighting. Yet, the truth was his body was trembling and not part of his control right now. He can’t keep his eyes open, for a brief second he feels the world fading. Then she tells him. Survive. How? The time will come. When? You will know. Who are you? And then nothing. When he opens his eyes again it is in a room with a wooden table, stained from blood, there are chain cuffs for the ankles and feet. He is held down by the four guards, who strap him in and take the collar off. He can finally breathe. He wheezes. He coughs out more blood.
“Any request?” the priest ask him sitting in a chair.
His body is shaking and it is so hard to breathe right now he can’t respond. The priest smirks. Another man in black robes, they are stained in blood comes in. He has a singular tuft of gray hair in the center of his head. He’s very old his skin reminds him of wet leather.
“How would you like me to do it?” the man ask the priest.
“I am a generous man, despite the Purest Mother saying he is not worth redemption,” the Priest takes a second, “take his horns. Then do whatever else you would like. He has been living among humans for a while. If he survives. He can live with them again.”
“Very well, Father is being generous with you,” he tells him looking around for a saw, “This will be a long process. Your horns are fairly robust.”
“I’ll….” Valeo finds the words, “Kill you.”
He glares at the priest man. He will break free from this bindings and when he does. He will kill them all. The priest stares at him.
“Take his horns and I give permission for you to do whatever pleases you for the most pain,” the priest sneers.
Valeo continues to glare at the priest. The man has the guards take one end of a small saw and they fit it between the curve of his horns. They begin to go back and forth the way they might cutting a log. The sound is like cutting rope. Just back and forth. Crrrk. The serrated edge over the ridges of his black horns. Zrzrzrzr. The sound of the sawing. Crrrk. Again over the horns. Zrzrzrzr. The sound of sawing. Just think of rope. Just remember the men in Gregoff’s field cutting a tree. Valeo replaced the image of his horns with watching the way the men cut down the trees. He never really engaged with them, yet it was a better imagery than watching them go back and forth on his horn the way they were doing. He closed his eyes. Which perhaps to the priest, was some kind of resolution. Some kind of moment where he gave up.
He came back around to, “Those were thick.”
“At least they are off,” says a guard.
He opens his eyes to the man from before wiping sweat from his brow. Valeo makes sure they knew he hadn’t given up as he gives them a very dark glare. He had already vowed for payback. The man was taken aback.
“Were those not precious to you?” he ask him.
“Even if they were, you dying will make up for them,” Valeo harshly replies.
“How do you have so much spirit,” the man says, “Honestly, you still have a lot of fight in you. That is going to have to change. No one is purified if they keep up that kind of talk.”
Boiling. Something in Valeo was boiling. Pure rage. He was not afraid because the image that replaced the fear was anger. Watching everyone of them melt. To kill them all. To watch this hall of evil burn, was enough to make him carry on. The man walks off, only to come back with a hot, piping red hot metal bar.
“This is to insure growth back is minimal,” the man says, as a searing hot bar is placed where they have finely cut his horns down to his forehead. The bar melts the keratin and bone of his horns, he can feel the heat on his forehead and skin. Valeo spit in his face.
The man sighs.
“Grown men are not nearly as feisty as you,” the man tells him.
Once his horns were “fixed” to his liking, the harder part of skin where his horn had been are throbbing. The priest walks in. He looks at the man.
“Everything's in order, for a Deamon, he had minimal traits,” the man says.
The Priest looks at him. He seems unsatisfied. Valeo continues to glare at him. The Priest this time glares back.
“He is not purified, bring him to the waters,” the Priest says.
Day in and day out. The waters were frigid. He couldn’t breath. His stomach felt like a belly of knives. He was beginning to see double. He refused to give them what they wanted. As a whip lashed across his back for what felt like the hundredth time. Who knew how much something that looked like a simple rope could hurt so much. It was golden, braided together. He could feel blood running down his back. He could feel the wounds from yesterday beginning to rupture again. Valeo doubled back a little. He did not know how long he could endure of this any more.
“That should be enough for today,” the guard said.
Valeo laughed.
“Are you getting complacent? Maybe I am not purified enough,” Valeo tells him through his laughter.
The man strikes his back harder. The only thing that is keeping him going is their corpses in his dream. The priest burning in internal energy. It is the only thing keeping him going. This boiling rage. Payback. Payback. Payback. How had he continued to survive all this? Payback. Payback.
“The Priest orders us to clean him up in the waters,” another guard walks into the room. His shoulders are beginning to burn from being suspended in this position for so long. The guard with the whip grumbles.
“When will this be over,” the guard ask.
Is that sympathy he hears? He wants none of their pity. He feels his hand shaking with rage. Both the guards begin to walk in front of him. One of them grabs his key, the other has the collar. He has never tried it before. To use his energy with the collar on. He knew his arms when those cuffs were on would just get shocked. Just as the collar was about to be placed on his neck, he pointed at the man’s arm. Break. Break. Break. There was a snapping sound as his arm bent into a shape that seemed inhuman. The other guard was taken aback.
He took the opportunity to point to his leg. He wanted it to break. Break. Break. The man’s leg gave way as he fell onto his knees. He stood up. His back hurt. His shoulders were sore. He did not have a lot of energy. Grabbing the collar, ow that stung. He hated this thing and latched it onto the man’s neck with the broken arm. He began to gasp for air.
“Good boy,” he says patting the man on the head. Ow. Honestly everything hurts. Yet he doesn’t necessarily care right now. He walks up to the man who has whipped him. His eyes were glinting now, “Now you bastard let me show you what torture is.”
“HE-” Valeo places his hand on the man’s mouth.
“There will be none of that, do not let the kid show you up on how take pain,” Valeo sneers.
His hand is beginning to heat up. Payback. Kill them. Kill them. The mans mouth begins boil, skin is beginning to form bubbles to the surface that rupture into blisters of blood, till they blacken, beginning to eat away at his flesh. Burning like it were on fire, the burns spreading the way fire spreads onto paper, then slowly turning black. Big blisters, that would go from clear, clear, till they ruptured, and popped into burst of blood.
He let go of the man’s face. All that was left, was blacken, crumbling skin, and his teeth formed in a screaming position that Valeo had muffled. The other man gasping for air watched, his eyes wide in shock. He tries to scramble off the floor to run. After all that is broken is his arm. He can barely breathe with that collar on his neck. He’s screaming, yet is muffled through gasping breaths.
“Hahaha,” Valeo looks at him, “Is this what you fear of me? I did nothing to you! I wanted nothing to do with you! Or your Order! You brought this upon yourself. You fear the monster inside of me. Well then I will give you what you should fear.”
All that anger. All that rage was cascading and clash together. Tides of flames in his body clashing together like the sea would hit the rocky crags. Like churning magma, it boiled at the surface all at once. His horns taken. His back aching. His shoulders sore. He did not care how he exhausted he really was. What was filling him through and through was rage. That was the only thing keeping him alive.
“I...am..” the man coughs as he tries to breathe, “s...orry…”
“Ohhhh you are sorry,” Valeo looks at him, “If you we were sorry…..you would have left me alone! How ...do I get out of here. HOW!?”
“The….sew...sewers...down below the cells,” the man says, “You...will need the keys. Please….have...mercy. Show me mercy.”
Mercy! Mercy! In and out. Drowning. Body cold. Exhausted. Angry. The man looks at him tears in his eyes. Valeo never cried. Not once. No matter what happened to him. He held it in. Held it in. Held it in. He couldn’t hold it in any more.
He growled, “RRRRRRRRRR!” He walks up to the man and grabs his face as well.
“P...lea….se I to….ld….ld….AAAAAA” the man’s face begin to churn, boil, and blister. Blacken, it smelled of scinged flesh. His tears evaporated as Valeo held onto his face. He swore he’d kill them all. Right now though he had to survived.
Grabbing the man’s keys Valeo took them and walked out of the room. Now he had to escape. To survive. To survive. He would get them back for all this. His shoulders burned. It was hard to walk his legs felt like jello. He had to grab onto the wall to keep his balance. He had watched the layout of this building. He knew there was a circle that connected all the rooms together. If he went the opposite direction the Priest and his guards would be coming he wouldn’t be found out. Just survive. Get out of here. He found the stairs down to the cells. He ran down them.
Sewers. Sewers. He saw the manhole cover. Did he have the strength to lift that right now? He clasped his hands around the rim. Lifting it up. Or struggling to do so. Over and over again. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. He managed to get it up. He jumped down and ran down the sewers. He didn’t care what was down here. He didn’t care that it smelled. He just ran, splashing dirty water around as he did. Barefoot and naked he just ran down the long corridor. Keep going. Keep going. He ran. Ran. Splash. Splash. Drip. Drip. Keep going. Keep going. He slammed into iron bars. There is a gate. It is a gate. He takes out the keyring.
Open. Open. He tries a key. It doesn’t work. It nearly slips his grasp. He grabs another key. Come on. Come on. Open. Open. He grabs onto the bars and shakes them.
“Raaaawwwr! Open! You piece of shit!” Valeo screams at the bar.
He finally hears the click. He runs out. Down another long black corridor. Till he sees light. Either this is death or he has made it. His feet plunged into ice cold water. He’s staring at the trees. He’s at the edge of the river. The lumber mill is to his left. He puts his burning hands into the cool water letting it run past his hot hands. He angrily shoves the water away. Dammit. He runs through the river picking up water whenever he does so.
It be foolish to think Gregoff kept his stuff. He runs up the bank. He is naked. Cold. His legs begin to shake. He feels so sick. He falls to his knees bending over to throw up nothing onto the grass. He pushes himself up by sheer will. He grabs an axe sitting next to the logs. He doesn’t care. He’ll kill Gregoff if he gets in his way. Opening the cabinet door. Does he still have Muris? He first checks under the bed. Then he turns around, on a shelf Muris is snoring, sound asleep.
The door creaks. Valeo is prepared for whomever walks in. He raises the axe. Ow. His shoulders. Gregoff walks in. His expression is a mixture of surprise and shock.
“Valeo!” he sounds relieved.
“Don’t get near me!” he shouts at Gregoff, “I will kill you!”
“Valeo, I had nothing to do with what Ingrid did,” Gregoff tells him. He sounds genuine. He holds onto his axe.
“I DON’T WANT YOU NEAR ME!” he shouts at Gregoff.
“Valeo, you are naked and very angry, but I would never do that to you,” Gregoff tells him.
Valeo steps forward. What is this feeling? Exhaustion. He succumbs to his exhaustion. How pathetic you will wake up in a cell, again.
Valeo’s dreams are of the forest that always embraced him and welcomed him home. That strange lullaby that made his heart beat. To survive. To live. Who was she that spoke to him. Was it the forest? She never gave the answer. Was she a god? She never said. He had to continue. He had to continue. When he opened his eyes, he smelled food. Gregoff was cooking. He had closed the door and had placed Valeo on the bed in some sheets.
Valeo looks around.
“You were very exhausted kiddo,” Gregoff tells him, “You have not eaten in a while, I can tell. How you have managed to survive. Beyond me. You have great strength in that soul. I bandaged you up. Getting you some clothes to take when you leave town. But before you do we’re getting food in that stomach of yours. Do you understand?”
Why? He had been gone and the Order of Purity thought he was impure.
“Why do you care?” Valeo asked him.
Gregoff looks at him with a sad expression. Slowly ladling food into a bowl.
“Valeo, even if you did not feel it for the two years you have been here, I am very proud of you, you,” he paused, “Made me feel like a father. I cared for you like a father. I love you like a father. To see you hurt like this. Pains me.”
He’s being serious right now. Why does Valeo feel angry at that answer? Gregoff hands him the bowl of food.
“I hate you!” Valeo shouts.
“That is fine,” Gregoff tells him, “That won’t stop me from loving you. You may hate me, but I will always love you.”
Valeo does not understand. Orphelia never said these things. Mertrodora loved him, but he had to leave. This was not his home. He didn’t understand. Why does he care so much? He was using him in the beginning before he was forced to tell the truth.
“You’ve always been on the run Valeo, even from feeling,” Gregoff tells him, “You have been at a distance with me since you came here. Are you scared to be accepted?”
Valeo looks at Gregoff. He cannot pretend to know who he is. He was grateful they accepted him. He was grateful that they let him stay in their home. It’s not that part that makes him angry.
“I accept your acceptance, I was grateful for that, but that’s all it was gratefulness,” Valeo tells him, “I am not your son. I am not your child. That’s the part I don’t accept. I don’t want to be loved like that. I wanted to be understood.”
Gregoff nods and looks sad.
“I had hoped, I could have went with you, to keep you safe,” Gregoff tells him, putting his hands through his hair. He looks sad and touches the tough part of his skin, only a partial of the horns are there, as amputated nubs. Gregoff is weeping. Why is he crying for his sake?
“I have to do it myself. My respect comes in the form that I don’t want to see you dead,” Valeo pauses playing with the stew in his bowl, “I will visit you again someday. If that is any consolation. I am sorry I cannot love you like that.”
“Where will you go?” Gregoff ask him.
“Someone has not told me yet,” Valeo tells him spooning food into his mouth, no longer able to keep his hunger at bay.
“Well I hope they take care of you and understand you in the way you want to be understood,” Gregoff tells him and kisses his forehead.
It took them awhile to travel from the alpines. Though Valeo never count of these things. He simply sat on Magnar’s back. Their reunion, what, a few weeks ago was a good time. Magnar was scared and he was glad to ease his insecurities. Now he stood at the barrier of Cosmo City, with two pompous looking guards in raincoats “guarding” the gates.
“Can one of you give me the location of Gertrude?” Valeo asked, “Unless you actually are the fashion police.” Valeo laughs at his own musing to himself, as his clothes were a little tattered from travel. Both the guards looked at him.
“She lives up the hill,” they told him.
No sense of humor. He did not know why the invisible person had sent him to Gertrude. A clip of a newspaper of Gertrude’s youngest child went missing. Valeo just new the clues and signs. He would follow them. His wounds were still recovering, but it felt a lot better than before. His skin tingled crossing the barrier. Ow. Ow. Ow. That stung.
This place thinks highly of itself. Pastel colored buildings. All in this quirky style, that said I have money and think I am important because I live on a mountain. At least he didn’t rupture into ash going through that barrier. So that is a good sign.
Everyone is staring at him. Must have been the tiger. No he knew why they were staring at him. He just pretended that it was Magnar.
“Jeez, why do you have to be such a big tiger?” Valeo nudges the tiger’s shoulder.
Magnar says nothing. Valeo hails a lady down.
“Yes,” she says nervously.
“Yeah it seems like I am looking at four large hills, what is the hill Gertrude lives up?” Valeo asked her.
The woman points silently. He nods and heads in that direction. The scenery soon changes from lots of ugly colored buildings, to green. More green and more green. As he passes someone’s garden of flowers swaying in the wind. To finally meet eyes with a large brown manor. He sees another kid in the distance, though they vanish in the inside of the manor. Do not tell him he is going to be with other kids. Annoying. Valeo heads up the pathway towards the large door. He knocks on it with the knocker.
He looks at his claws. This is taking long. He knocks on the door again.
Maybell scurries up to the door and struggles to push it open. Once she finally manages it, she stares with wide eyes at the boy on the doorstep. "Hi hello what do you need?"
Valeo raises a brow. He has met talking animals before. Oh. That's great. He looks at his ring of animal friends. So that's what this meant, "Looking for an old lady named Gertrude."
"Okay!" she chirps, "I'll go get her!" The door slams shut and her voice faintly carries through, "Gertrude! There's someone at the door who wants to see you!" A few moments later, Maybell comes back, trying very hard to muscle the door back open again. "Come in!"
Valeo continues watching her.
"You know perhaps you shouldn't be the one on door duties," Valeo walks in and whistles, this place is fancy as fuck, "Did not know orphanages had such big budgets these days. If I had known I would have come much sooner knowing we would be eating like fucking royalty. Am I right? You seem like a smart possum to know to take advantage of an opportunity when you see one. Ever decided to pawn shit?"
"Well, I was the closest, so..." she trails off as she leads him into the parlor, "Pawn? Uh, I haven't really thought about that. I don't really need to anyway."
"What does do, she pay you for not having family?" Valeo ask.
"What? No way! It's just nice to have somewhere to stay. And I have a family, buster! I just... have to find them."
Valeo raises his hands in the air, an act of truce.
"Sorry did not mean to ruin your delusional fantasy"
Maybell snorts dismissively as she crosses the threshold into the parlor where Gertrude is sitting. "Here she is! I've gotta get back to my book." In a heartbeat, she scampers away.
Getrude sips on some tea and looks at him. Jeez she is old. Lying to her would probably be easy, but he’s tired from travel and he is hungry. The quicker they can get through this exchange, the quicker he can be living it good for a while. At least till the Order forgets all about him and the two dead paladins that is.
“I heard you were looking for me, what is your name?” Gertrude ask him. Oh god she’s that kind of old lady. Sweetness that makes your brain melt.
“Valeo,” he replies.
“And, why do you need to speak with me?” she ask.
“I’m an orphan, and need help,” Valeo replies straightforwardly.
“Well nobody has been so straightforward about it before,” Gertrude replies.
“Yeah I am not like those sad Orphans running to you and holding onto your knees crying, it gets exhausting having to cry a lot and feel sorry for myself,” Valeo responds.
Gertrude raises a brow.
“And, how do I know you have not run from home?” Gertrude ask him.
“That’s the beauty of this exchange, you’re supposed to be the nice old lady who helps me and you will never know if I ran away or not,” Valeo tells her, “Then one day if I am feeling like having a pity party. I’ll just reveal the truth to you then.”
“Perhaps in time your jaded view will change,” Gertrude replies.
The hell is that supposed to mean. Jaded view.
“You going to help or not,” Valeo retorts.
“I will set you up a room and you can help the others prepare dinner,” Gertrude says.
“I will sleep outside, but thanks for the room and board,” Valeo tells her dismissively. Did not know he have to go through an entire interrogation just to get here. Still, how long does it take to make an angry religious sect not angry at you any more?
Theme Song:
knifeman gender: cryptid
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Age: 11
Species: Opossum
Opossums are a fairly common species, but they aren’t often seen, as they are nomadic and largely nocturnal (with excellent night vision, naturally). Families of opossums travel between towns, foraging for food along the way, the mother carrying her kids (called joeys) on her back once they get too big to ride in her pouch. It’s not uncommon to see older joeys holding each other’s tails in a line to stay together. Speaking of, opossums’ tails are prehensile and strong enough to be used as a fifth limb useful for climbing trees and carrying things.
Opossums are often stereotyped as cowards, as they prefer to keep to themselves and stay out of trouble. This isn’t helped by their tendency to pass out, or “play dead,” when overly threatened. It’s not intentional, though; it’s an involuntary reflex. While they aren’t particularly strong in offense or defense, they’re built to survive. They have a very strong immune system protecting them from most diseases and poisons, and can eat almost anything, including carrion and bones if necessary.
Description: Maybell looks pretty typical for an opossum, except for her rather small size, even compared to others of her kind. She stands roughly two feet tall, and most of her body mass is made up of fluffy fur. She wears an orange bandana around her neck.
Strengths: Maybell’s best feature is her intelligence. She reads just about every book she can find and thus stores an encyclopedia of fun facts and trivia tidbits in her head. She can figure out riddles and puzzles with ease, and does so quite often (just, you know, for fun). In addition, Maybell has plenty of energy and determination that she pours into whatever she does. If you give her a puzzle interesting enough, she won’t let anything distract her until it’s been solved.
Flaws: While Maybell is book-smart, she doesn’t have a whole lot of sense. She’s not great at navigating social situations, and she has a terrible habit of ignoring signs of danger and running headlong into trouble she has no way of getting herself out of. Her determination isn’t always a good thing either; she often gets tunnel vision and ignores even her own needs in favor of figuring out some puzzle.
Neutral: Maybell loves mysteries. Secrets, codes, conspiracies, if it’s hidden in some way, she’s going to find it. She also has an affinity for… things, for lack of a better term. She collects little trinkets such as shiny rocks, cool bugs, and discarded buttons. Whatever strikes her fancy, really.
Skills:
Sleight of Hand
She has very light hands, good for filching and pickpocketing.
Hiding
She can fit into small spaces and camouflage herself in wooded areas.
Cryptography
She can recognize and decode most known ciphers given enough time and effort.
Focal Crystal: Maybell’s Focal Crystal is pale pink, roughly three inches long, and pointed at the top. When in use, its edges glow bright white. She keeps it in her pouch along with the rest of her equipment.
Special Equipment:
Reihenschieber
Anything written by this pen turns into illegible symbols before the ink dries. Only those marked by the Aryabhata spell can read it.
Obtentus
While Maybell wears this necklace, she will take on the appearance of an average fox until either she takes it off, or an hour passes. Afterwards, the necklace won’t work again until the next day.
Equipment:
A foldable journal where Maybell writes down various codes, ciphers, and keys (all written with Reihenschieber and illegible to anyone else).
A leather pouch full of little trinkets and pretty rocks.
A set of lockpicks.
An inkwell.
Her mother’s bandana.
Weapon: She carries a small knife in a leather sheath. It’s not anything special, but it works for self-defense and practical use.
Special Attack: Playing dead is an opossum’s last line of defense in dire situations. As a reflex, they fall unconscious and release a pheromone that fools predators into thinking they’re dead. Her tendency to play dead causes Maybell a whole lot of embarrassment, but it’s a useful defense mechanism.
Magic Lv: 5
Spellbook: Maybell’s spellbook is a leatherbound book with etched patterns and copper pieces attached to the cover.
School of Focus: Trickery - In her magic, Maybell focuses on illusion, thievery, and encoding (and decoding) messages. Messing with people, hiding stuff, etc. Basically a magic Rogue.
Spells:
Aryabhata (Lesser): Anyone marked by this spell can read text written with Reihenschieber.
Heresco (Lesser): This spell allows Maybell to walk on walls and ceilings for up to five minutes.
Murmur (Lesser): This spell lets Maybell send a short whispered message audible only to its target.
Perplicatus (Medium): For five minutes, the target of this spell becomes confused and disoriented.
Misc Battle Info: Maybell isn’t the type to rush into battle. She’s not great at fighting, so she doesn’t do it often, but she will if there’s no other choice.
“A thimble’s worth of milky moon
Can touch hearts larger than a thimble”
Can touch hearts larger than a thimble”
Once upon a time, there was a family of possums; a mother, a father, and nine joeys. Their lives were an adventure; they would travel from town to town scavenging for food and doing odd jobs for whoever needed help. The youngest joey, Maybell, was precocious and curious; she loved exploring and discovering new things. She had a habit of running off and getting herself lost whenever she saw something interesting.
"And all day long we talked about mercy
Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty"
Lead me to water, Lord, I sure am thirsty"
Maybell had heard stories of wild monsters that lived in the forests between towns, but she had never experienced them herself, having spent her first few years in civilization. When the time came to leave, Maybell had no idea how dangerous the forests could be.
“And Danger! Danger! Drawing near them was a white coat
And Danger! Danger! drawing near them was a broad boat”
And Danger! Danger! drawing near them was a broad boat”
A few days into their journey, they stopped to rest, and Maybell wandered away from her family to explore. She noticed something unusual. It looked like some kind of plant she had never seen before, moving in a strange way that couldn’t have been caused by the wind. Curiously, Maybell approached it. Before she could get much closer, she heard her siblings calling for her.
“Maybell! Where are you? We’re going to have dinner!”
“Over here! Check out this thing I found!”
Before she could say anything else, Maybell heard a growling noise and the “plant” stood up on clawed feet and lunged at her. She could hear her siblings coming towards her and calling her name. She tried to go towards them, but got disoriented and ended up in a river.
“Why’ve you gone away?
Seven suns, seven suns away”
Seven suns, seven suns away”
Maybell woke up drenched on the riverbed in the middle of the night, all alone. She didn’t find her family’s campsite until the early morning, but it was destroyed and abandoned. All that was left was her mother’s bandana. She figured they must have run away from the monster. Maybell picked up the bandana and what little supplies were left at the campsite and set off to find her family.
(She would tell you that she left immediately, but she actually spent almost an entire day crying first)
Her natural survival abilities helped her live on her own until she reached Cosmos City. By the time she got there, she was dirty, tired, and hungry and was torn between continuing on and just giving up.
One morning, she woke up in her makeshift bed on the side of a road and was approached by a kindly old woman offering her a place to stay.
This is where our story begins…
“Hundred raging waters snare the lonely sigh
Hold your breath and clasp at Cassiopeia”
Hold your breath and clasp at Cassiopeia”
Theme Songs:
Bridges and Balloons by Joanna Newsom
Sadie by Joanna Newsom
Sprout and the Bean by Joanna Newsom
Cosmia by Joanna Newsom
Cassiopeia by Joanna Newsom
Bridges and Balloons by Joanna Newsom
Sadie by Joanna Newsom
Sprout and the Bean by Joanna Newsom
Cosmia by Joanna Newsom
Cassiopeia by Joanna Newsom
3 Guests
viewing this page
© 2007-2024