op2024
Suicharte
Jumbus
Fallenreaper
pantothenic
Lildear18
BlackRoseSiren
Carlyle
Ti
SillyI know I shouldn't be making any more characters, but...
Every so often, one of 'those people' makes it into Ersand'Enise. Perhaps it's by mistake, sheer dumb luck, the will of the Gods, or some personal favour owed. While Svitlana Rudenko probably qualifies as one of 'those people', she would insist that none of the above factors had very much to do with her recent entrance into the City of the Bells as a biro. She is an absurd figure: a peasant girl whose family struck it rich, Beverly Hillbillies style, when they found a rich trivalium vein on their property. She is fast-talking, gregarious, opportunistic, frank in the way of the uncultured, and full of oft-dubious homespun wisdom and superstition. Beneath it all, however, is a keen social intelligence and cunning, an unscrupulousness balanced by a deep sense of loyalty and a fundamental decency, and - most importantly - a tireless work ethic forged on a remote farmstead in Menskuva. Svitlana often waffles between funny and cringe-inducing, endearing and annoying, boorish and insightful, but she is never - and I mean never - lazy. The girl is a determinator.
That's not to say that she won't ask for help. She'll take whatever is given to her, but she won't sit on an achievement. For someone who started right near the very bottom of society, each success is merely a stepping stone to a greater one. This isn't some sort of grand destiny. Fortune exists. Some things are fated, but her successes and failures are the fruits of her labour and what she has made of the gifts and challenges bestowed upon her by the gods. If she isn't the type to preach on about religion, she keeps the Veterite faith and attends church regularly, though her manner of belief would be considered grossly casual and uncouth by many above her station. While Svitlana pretends not to care about what they think, for better or worse, and holds a strong inner sense of self, she isn't deaf to whispers or immune to the occasional insecurity.
A great bouncing ball of tangled ginger hair, a perpetual sunburn, and a gap-toothed grin that always seems to promise mischief and adventure, propelled through life by a pair of great big arms and shoulders that never seem to run out of steam (until they suddenly do): that's Svitlana Rudenko. There's a wheelchair, too: a beat-up reliable old thing that she eagerly tosses herself into each morning and out of each evening. She could have a newer one if she liked, but Svitlana keeps certain habits to the point of superstition.
At the age of seventeen, this young Menskuvite's appearance reflects the duality of her life experiences. Her hands are hard and calloused from work in the fields and the constant need to push her wheels. Yet, while she isn't quite what one would call 'buxom' yet, her recent access to fine foods has not only filled her once-rumbling belly, but softened it noticeably. Her hair is well taken care of these days, but it remains incorrigible under a brush, and the habit of wearing a large hat to keep the sun off of her back has stuck with her even long after her last time picking turnips. The impressively muscular arms, shoulders, and back that speak to her relentless energy and strength are the starkest of contrasts with legs that gave up on her during childhood. Bony, useless, and atrophied, she wraps them in a skirt or a dress and forgets about them.
There is beauty there too, however. She has big hazel eyes that seem to possess a natural twinkle, a wide smile that rings authentic without effort, and a chest that her grandmother has described as 'blessed by Ipté.' As a young girl, Svitlana always wanted a nice dress but never had one, and it would've been ruined, anyhow, by endless fieldwork. As a young woman, she has found that pretty dresses are a pain. She still loves the idea of them, but they are for special occasions, where she will doll up to the nth degree and then toss them in the closet. Wearing lighter colours is a sign to Svitlana and her peers that she has made something of herself and no longer needs to worry about dirtying her clothes. Unless she is dressing up, in which case they are yet another accessory to play around with, she rarely bothers with shoes. What's she going to do, walk in them? However, the pendant given her by her great grandmother is the one piece that she will wear with any outfit. Hanging from a simple leather cord, it goes everywhere with her. Prababusya is not around anymore. She gave Svitlana the pendant after the worst day of the girl's life and never lived to see what she could become. Nobody but the two of them know what it contains, but it is sacred to the young Menskuvan.
Svitlana is... a peasant. Well, more correctly, she was. She grew up in Menskuva speaking... Menskuvan and, when her family struck it rich, even became somewhat literate. She is conversationally fluent in spoken and imperfectly literate in written Vossoriyan due to proximity and attending St. Yuri's. In preparation for attending Ersand'Enise, she has been learning Avincian as best she can. It's... passable... when she speaks.
Magnetic: 0 | Arcane: 3 | Binding: 5 | Chemical: 5 | Kinetic: 4 | Atomic: 0 | Blood: 0 | Temporal: 0 | Dark: 0 | Command: 0 | Primordial: 0
In her family of twelve, only Svitlana and her younger brother Yevhen were blessed by Vol-Shune. By the time that she had turned thirteen, her capacity stood at 4.52: useful for everyday life, where she had become accustomed to applying her Gift to the family's crops to help them grow, but not enough to join an academy. That was until her parents found a way to procure some aberrations. A 'growth spurt' was arranged and her intake managed carefully, and she went to St. Yuri's in neighbouring Vossoriya, where she built upon her basic knowledge to become a skilled healer, illusionist, and phytomancer.
Born on Ardanes the seventh, ASZ54, Svitlana Rudenko was the fourth child of twelve and second daughter of free peasant farmers in a small nameless village near the town of Lyubev, western Menskuva. They were, in nearly all respects, an utterly unremarkable family; there were perhaps another couple hundred thousand nearly the exact same in profile.
Svitlana doesn't believe in fate or fortune. Things simply... happen because people or nature or the Gods make them happen. Then, the way that people react to those causes consequences. She is, perhaps, not so detached and scientific about it, but this is the gist. She was born with the Gift because it ran in her family. She broke her back because she had been playing dangerously and stretched it too far. The trivalium that had always been on that land came into her family's possession because Alina, who liked digging, had made a choice to dig in that spot because there were pretty purple flowers nearby. That land had become theirs because Svitlana had used her Gift to help that year's harvest while others' had failed and they'd been able to buy it. Father had always wanted more land, since he had plenty of willing hands to work it and more food was always a good thing. Svitlana had learned how to use the magic that had saved their crop because she had been idle and with prababusya after breaking her back and she had needed something to do. It was all the result of people's actions. The Gods gave them free will.
Svitlana is not the type to preach, but she believes in her ability to do just about anything that she sets her mind to. She doesn't know for certain what kind of outcome she'll earn or where the journey will end, but she's resolved to make the absolute most of it and lose nothing to idleness or a lack of will. If she fails at anything, she either accepts it or finds a different solution. Life is an upward journey, and the challenge is rewarding. Will she become Queen of Menskuva? Will she ever be an arch-zeno? Likely not, and she isn't sentimental enough to dream of either except in passing or worry deeply about her legacy or mark on history. She simply chooses goals as they appear attainable before her, and works towards them with the same effort that she formerly put into field labour and regaining her life after breaking her back. Other than that, she wants what any young woman of her day and age might want: wealth, security, romance, and a loving family - in short, happiness. Svitlana does not expressly seek out adventure, but will not shy away from it either. If a job needs doing and she thinks that she might have a way to do it, she will. Unacknowledged, lies something inside of her that relishes a challenge and will pursue it a bit more than is strictly healthy. Maybe she has something to prove - a disabled foreign girl from a far-flung peasant family - but one only rarely gets the sense that there's a chip on her shoulder.
Svitlana tends to travel lightly, relying on her Gift, her allies, and a lifetime of hands-on experience to see her through most situations. She packs pointedly for where she is going and what she is doing instead of trying to cover every base. Beyond that, she brings bloodletting tools, for the sake of her medical practice and to make use of her porous mana type, small collapsible mana kites to extend her range with, and a mini toolkit for her wheelchair. Somehow, all of these items fit in the backpack that hangs off the back of it, and she jokes that it is actually a VOID backpack. Whether or not this is more than mere jest is open for debate. She also, variously, can be found with at least some of the following on her person at all times:
Not on her person but always under Svitlana's ownership can be found a great many seeds, cutting boards, beakers, bowls, and cooking tools, as well as a spare wheelchair, plenty of dresses, a few pairs of shoes, many fine hats, and a collection of useful books, including the blacksmith's materials guide that she received for her ninth birthday. She still keeps a small chunk of trivalium from her family's original property, her great-grandmother's last letter to her, and the 'plank' that she used to get around as a child.
S V I T L A N A R U D E N K O
"Why would I need Reshta? I have my own two hands to make my fortune with."
17 | Female | Menskuvan | Common | 7.12
P E R S O N A L I T Y ____ ___ __ _
❖ [Uncultured]
❖ [Gregarious]
❖ [Enthusiastic]
❖ [Frank]
❖ [Opportunistic]
❖ [Gregarious]
❖ [Enthusiastic]
❖ [Frank]
❖ [Opportunistic]
Every so often, one of 'those people' makes it into Ersand'Enise. Perhaps it's by mistake, sheer dumb luck, the will of the Gods, or some personal favour owed. While Svitlana Rudenko probably qualifies as one of 'those people', she would insist that none of the above factors had very much to do with her recent entrance into the City of the Bells as a biro. She is an absurd figure: a peasant girl whose family struck it rich, Beverly Hillbillies style, when they found a rich trivalium vein on their property. She is fast-talking, gregarious, opportunistic, frank in the way of the uncultured, and full of oft-dubious homespun wisdom and superstition. Beneath it all, however, is a keen social intelligence and cunning, an unscrupulousness balanced by a deep sense of loyalty and a fundamental decency, and - most importantly - a tireless work ethic forged on a remote farmstead in Menskuva. Svitlana often waffles between funny and cringe-inducing, endearing and annoying, boorish and insightful, but she is never - and I mean never - lazy. The girl is a determinator.
That's not to say that she won't ask for help. She'll take whatever is given to her, but she won't sit on an achievement. For someone who started right near the very bottom of society, each success is merely a stepping stone to a greater one. This isn't some sort of grand destiny. Fortune exists. Some things are fated, but her successes and failures are the fruits of her labour and what she has made of the gifts and challenges bestowed upon her by the gods. If she isn't the type to preach on about religion, she keeps the Veterite faith and attends church regularly, though her manner of belief would be considered grossly casual and uncouth by many above her station. While Svitlana pretends not to care about what they think, for better or worse, and holds a strong inner sense of self, she isn't deaf to whispers or immune to the occasional insecurity.
C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E ____ ___ __ _
A great bouncing ball of tangled ginger hair, a perpetual sunburn, and a gap-toothed grin that always seems to promise mischief and adventure, propelled through life by a pair of great big arms and shoulders that never seem to run out of steam (until they suddenly do): that's Svitlana Rudenko. There's a wheelchair, too: a beat-up reliable old thing that she eagerly tosses herself into each morning and out of each evening. She could have a newer one if she liked, but Svitlana keeps certain habits to the point of superstition.
At the age of seventeen, this young Menskuvite's appearance reflects the duality of her life experiences. Her hands are hard and calloused from work in the fields and the constant need to push her wheels. Yet, while she isn't quite what one would call 'buxom' yet, her recent access to fine foods has not only filled her once-rumbling belly, but softened it noticeably. Her hair is well taken care of these days, but it remains incorrigible under a brush, and the habit of wearing a large hat to keep the sun off of her back has stuck with her even long after her last time picking turnips. The impressively muscular arms, shoulders, and back that speak to her relentless energy and strength are the starkest of contrasts with legs that gave up on her during childhood. Bony, useless, and atrophied, she wraps them in a skirt or a dress and forgets about them.
There is beauty there too, however. She has big hazel eyes that seem to possess a natural twinkle, a wide smile that rings authentic without effort, and a chest that her grandmother has described as 'blessed by Ipté.' As a young girl, Svitlana always wanted a nice dress but never had one, and it would've been ruined, anyhow, by endless fieldwork. As a young woman, she has found that pretty dresses are a pain. She still loves the idea of them, but they are for special occasions, where she will doll up to the nth degree and then toss them in the closet. Wearing lighter colours is a sign to Svitlana and her peers that she has made something of herself and no longer needs to worry about dirtying her clothes. Unless she is dressing up, in which case they are yet another accessory to play around with, she rarely bothers with shoes. What's she going to do, walk in them? However, the pendant given her by her great grandmother is the one piece that she will wear with any outfit. Hanging from a simple leather cord, it goes everywhere with her. Prababusya is not around anymore. She gave Svitlana the pendant after the worst day of the girl's life and never lived to see what she could become. Nobody but the two of them know what it contains, but it is sacred to the young Menskuvan.
L A N G U A G E S ____ ___ __ _
❖ [Menskuvan] (native tongue)
❖ [Vossoriyan] (semi-fluent)
❖ [Avincian] (semi-fluent)
❖ [Vossoriyan] (semi-fluent)
❖ [Avincian] (semi-fluent)
Svitlana is... a peasant. Well, more correctly, she was. She grew up in Menskuva speaking... Menskuvan and, when her family struck it rich, even became somewhat literate. She is conversationally fluent in spoken and imperfectly literate in written Vossoriyan due to proximity and attending St. Yuri's. In preparation for attending Ersand'Enise, she has been learning Avincian as best she can. It's... passable... when she speaks.
T H E G I F T ____ ___ __ _
Magnetic: 0 | Arcane: 3 | Binding: 5 | Chemical: 5 | Kinetic: 4 | Atomic: 0 | Blood: 0 | Temporal: 0 | Dark: 0 | Command: 0 | Primordial: 0
RAS Capacity: 7.12
Mana Type(s): Porous, Energizer
Mana Type(s): Porous, Energizer
In her family of twelve, only Svitlana and her younger brother Yevhen were blessed by Vol-Shune. By the time that she had turned thirteen, her capacity stood at 4.52: useful for everyday life, where she had become accustomed to applying her Gift to the family's crops to help them grow, but not enough to join an academy. That was until her parents found a way to procure some aberrations. A 'growth spurt' was arranged and her intake managed carefully, and she went to St. Yuri's in neighbouring Vossoriya, where she built upon her basic knowledge to become a skilled healer, illusionist, and phytomancer.
B A C K G R O U N D ____ ___ __ _
Born on Ardanes the seventh, ASZ54, Svitlana Rudenko was the fourth child of twelve and second daughter of free peasant farmers in a small nameless village near the town of Lyubev, western Menskuva. They were, in nearly all respects, an utterly unremarkable family; there were perhaps another couple hundred thousand nearly the exact same in profile.
She grew up on a wide open plain, with a river dividing her family's small property from the one beside it, and the great snowcapped peaks of the Kuska Mountains rising in the distance. An energetic and talkative girl from the moment she could walk and form words, Svitlana was an eager and ready helper around the farm. She spent much of her time following her two older brothers - Taras and Yakiv - and older sister - Cheslava - around and learning the time-honed skills that any Menskuvan peasant would need to know from them and her mother, Solomia. A whole gaggle of younger siblings followed, and she often found herself informally in charge of them. On feast days and the last weekend of every month, she would help her parents and older siblings load up the family wagon and she would pile in with a great big grin for the trip to Lyubev.
It was there that she caught her early glimpses of the broader world: the great skeleton of a long-dead dragon stood in the square, supposedly slain by Stov-Eshiran himself in the beginning times, so that people might settle this region. The great spire of Lyubev Cathedral wowed her as a girl. She used to stand as close beneath it as she could, and look up, trying not to fall backwards. She played with her market day friends around the well, hiding in all sorts of places only a child would find. Most amazing, perhaps, were the stout solid hegelans who would travel into town with their great beards and shining metalwork. They were people who were not human and she wondered how that could be. Svitlana would always bring them an extra apple during the days of Rezain and they would never refuse, even letting her tug their beards, a couple of times (even the women had them!). The girl witnessed magic - real magic - from a traveling performer and the son of Hospodar Pavlo - for the first time, and tasted a tomato when it was given to her family as part of a trade. They sliced it into ten equal portions and each enjoyed a bite.
Yet, there were things in the town that were not so good, as well. She enjoyed eating in the open air market, where tables would be set out, but there were nobles there who ate in fine clothes, with cloths on theirs. They called her clothes rags and she was instructed to bow her head and refer to them respectfully. In church, they had their own special area, where they held their noses high and got to do things before everyone else. She did not see why they were any better. She both hated them and wanted to be one of them. At the opposite end of society, however, were the beggars. They were wretched things: blind or crazy or crippled, and dependent upon the goodwill of others, but they were never mean to her, and some would do little tricks with the bread or coin she gave them or talk with her. Showing these kindness, she was told, would earn her the regard of Dami-Nik and an easier time getting into heaven. So it was that she always saved up for a coin or a piece of a loaf to give a couple of them. Lame Lyuba, who could not walk, would ask only for help with things she could not do herself, and Svitlana was always happy to give it, since those things were quite easy for her.
And so would end a trip into town: arriving as the sun set back on their small farmstead, sometimes already asleep in the wagon. She would always rouse herself to help carry things in, for it was hard work that had freed them from serfdom in her great-grandfather's time, and hard work that might see them prosper still further. Then, the girl would tumble into bed with her sisters, always racing them for the best spot, and sleep would find her until the sun rose the next morning. She would enjoy a quick breakfast, with an egg from the hens on Taldays and an eye to keep yayechna vidʹma (the egg witch) away, and she would head out to the fields. It was a simple life, but it was a good one.
That was until shortly after she turned nine years old, when everything changed.
It was there that she caught her early glimpses of the broader world: the great skeleton of a long-dead dragon stood in the square, supposedly slain by Stov-Eshiran himself in the beginning times, so that people might settle this region. The great spire of Lyubev Cathedral wowed her as a girl. She used to stand as close beneath it as she could, and look up, trying not to fall backwards. She played with her market day friends around the well, hiding in all sorts of places only a child would find. Most amazing, perhaps, were the stout solid hegelans who would travel into town with their great beards and shining metalwork. They were people who were not human and she wondered how that could be. Svitlana would always bring them an extra apple during the days of Rezain and they would never refuse, even letting her tug their beards, a couple of times (even the women had them!). The girl witnessed magic - real magic - from a traveling performer and the son of Hospodar Pavlo - for the first time, and tasted a tomato when it was given to her family as part of a trade. They sliced it into ten equal portions and each enjoyed a bite.
Yet, there were things in the town that were not so good, as well. She enjoyed eating in the open air market, where tables would be set out, but there were nobles there who ate in fine clothes, with cloths on theirs. They called her clothes rags and she was instructed to bow her head and refer to them respectfully. In church, they had their own special area, where they held their noses high and got to do things before everyone else. She did not see why they were any better. She both hated them and wanted to be one of them. At the opposite end of society, however, were the beggars. They were wretched things: blind or crazy or crippled, and dependent upon the goodwill of others, but they were never mean to her, and some would do little tricks with the bread or coin she gave them or talk with her. Showing these kindness, she was told, would earn her the regard of Dami-Nik and an easier time getting into heaven. So it was that she always saved up for a coin or a piece of a loaf to give a couple of them. Lame Lyuba, who could not walk, would ask only for help with things she could not do herself, and Svitlana was always happy to give it, since those things were quite easy for her.
And so would end a trip into town: arriving as the sun set back on their small farmstead, sometimes already asleep in the wagon. She would always rouse herself to help carry things in, for it was hard work that had freed them from serfdom in her great-grandfather's time, and hard work that might see them prosper still further. Then, the girl would tumble into bed with her sisters, always racing them for the best spot, and sleep would find her until the sun rose the next morning. She would enjoy a quick breakfast, with an egg from the hens on Taldays and an eye to keep yayechna vidʹma (the egg witch) away, and she would head out to the fields. It was a simple life, but it was a good one.
That was until shortly after she turned nine years old, when everything changed.
Svitlana's great-grandmother, Zenoviya, was eighty years of age at the time, and she was the last among them who had lived to adulthood under the thumb of a lord, though Pavlo's family was not so bad. What had made her unique - aside from her husband's personal bravery in saving his lord from raiders - was that she had a bit of the Gift. It was little more than the ability to make her steps easier or lift heavier items than she should've been able to, or light a fire, and it paled in comparison to the big magics of the nobles. Still, its possibilities filled Svitlana's young mind each night. Still, it was hoped by each successive generation of Rudenkos (named for the red hair that was common in their family) that some child or other might possess the Gift in earnest, or at least as much as prababusya did. That child was Svitlana.
She was no prodigy - far from it - but the sheer energy that had always powered her to a degree that stood out from her siblings finally manifested itself one quiet Somni morning shortly after her ninth birthday, as the family house had grown excessively cold and her father - Kostyantyn - was trying to start a fire. Svitlana, not feeling particularly cold at all (for she was inadvertently drawing plenty of heat to herself), crouched beside him and began mimicking his attempts to spark a flame. Though her efforts should have been completely fruitless, she succeeded, and the fire grew quickly. Three days later, when her family went to market, she gained a brief audience with the Bishop, where he confirmed what they had all eagerly suspected: she had some of the Gift!
It was a joyous month. She tried to use her magic wherever and whenever she could, lifting great big boxes that strained her arms and back, leaping much further than her springy little legs would normally have allowed, and sparking fires on command (and sometimes not on command). Her parents would not have the money to send her St. Yuri's, even though they were reasonably prosperous, and she wasn't enough of a magician anyhow to warrant it but, already, there was talk of marrying her to Lukyan, the blacksmith's son in town, who would one day inherit his father's business. She sat shyly with him in the small room where his father kept his tools while their respective parents talked, dressed in her nicest dress and warned not to ruin it. In the end, he'd grinned at her and, once that dam had broken, they had played endless hours of tag, hide-and-go-seek, and climbed on just about everything they could find.
Whatever came of those negotiations, Svitlana would not know, for Somni grew cold and bitter and she went out one morning, taking great big footsteps through the deep, freshly-fallen snow. These were the last footsteps she would ever take. She, Cheslava, Yakiv, and Borys were playing in a fort they had made when she dived from a large snowball with the intent to backflip onto her feet. She overbalanced and felt a sudden sharp pain in her back that drew a startled yelp. She lay there, trying not to cry as her brothers teased her about being a suck and her sister exhorted her to get up or the boys would win. It hurt, though: a lot, and there was this weird tingling, like when her foot had fallen asleep, only it was around her waist. Svitlana had always been tough, though. Cheslava held out a hand to help her up as Yakiv peered in with an equal mix of annoyance and curious concern, and she reached up to grab it and rise.
Nothing happened.
Cheslava pulled and it was agony! With a strangled cry, Svitlana fell back. She lay there in the snow, tears streaming down her face and pulse pounding behind her ears. She tried to push herself up on her hands but she nearly blacked out from the pain. Her siblings had stopped playing and were clustered around her, worried and unsure of what to do. Cheslava and Yakiv tried to get a shoulder under each of her arms and help her up, and that was when she realized that there was nothing there. Well, there was - she still had legs, but she couldn't move them, or even feel them. Thankfully, she was spared any opportunity to consider the implications, as the pain did overwhelm her this time, and she knew only sleep.
She was no prodigy - far from it - but the sheer energy that had always powered her to a degree that stood out from her siblings finally manifested itself one quiet Somni morning shortly after her ninth birthday, as the family house had grown excessively cold and her father - Kostyantyn - was trying to start a fire. Svitlana, not feeling particularly cold at all (for she was inadvertently drawing plenty of heat to herself), crouched beside him and began mimicking his attempts to spark a flame. Though her efforts should have been completely fruitless, she succeeded, and the fire grew quickly. Three days later, when her family went to market, she gained a brief audience with the Bishop, where he confirmed what they had all eagerly suspected: she had some of the Gift!
It was a joyous month. She tried to use her magic wherever and whenever she could, lifting great big boxes that strained her arms and back, leaping much further than her springy little legs would normally have allowed, and sparking fires on command (and sometimes not on command). Her parents would not have the money to send her St. Yuri's, even though they were reasonably prosperous, and she wasn't enough of a magician anyhow to warrant it but, already, there was talk of marrying her to Lukyan, the blacksmith's son in town, who would one day inherit his father's business. She sat shyly with him in the small room where his father kept his tools while their respective parents talked, dressed in her nicest dress and warned not to ruin it. In the end, he'd grinned at her and, once that dam had broken, they had played endless hours of tag, hide-and-go-seek, and climbed on just about everything they could find.
Whatever came of those negotiations, Svitlana would not know, for Somni grew cold and bitter and she went out one morning, taking great big footsteps through the deep, freshly-fallen snow. These were the last footsteps she would ever take. She, Cheslava, Yakiv, and Borys were playing in a fort they had made when she dived from a large snowball with the intent to backflip onto her feet. She overbalanced and felt a sudden sharp pain in her back that drew a startled yelp. She lay there, trying not to cry as her brothers teased her about being a suck and her sister exhorted her to get up or the boys would win. It hurt, though: a lot, and there was this weird tingling, like when her foot had fallen asleep, only it was around her waist. Svitlana had always been tough, though. Cheslava held out a hand to help her up as Yakiv peered in with an equal mix of annoyance and curious concern, and she reached up to grab it and rise.
Nothing happened.
Cheslava pulled and it was agony! With a strangled cry, Svitlana fell back. She lay there in the snow, tears streaming down her face and pulse pounding behind her ears. She tried to push herself up on her hands but she nearly blacked out from the pain. Her siblings had stopped playing and were clustered around her, worried and unsure of what to do. Cheslava and Yakiv tried to get a shoulder under each of her arms and help her up, and that was when she realized that there was nothing there. Well, there was - she still had legs, but she couldn't move them, or even feel them. Thankfully, she was spared any opportunity to consider the implications, as the pain did overwhelm her this time, and she knew only sleep.
In her dreams, Svitlana ran and played but, when she woke up, the girl's reality had changed profoundly from what it had been when the snows had first fallen. She had been playing two miles from home - further than she should've been. Her siblings had carried her as far as they could through the deep snow, and then they had dragged her. Finally, as they drew close and the sun had dipped below the horizon, father had come and found them and rushed his precocious nine-year-old inside.
The old women of the village pored over the young girl, prodding here, bloodletting there, administering the remedies they knew and building a brace. Mostly, however, they prayed, which was the first thing that Svitlana remembered upon waking up. At first, it was hoped that she might recover once her back was set. Uncle Vitali, who was a carpenter, made her a special bed to heal in and placed her by the window. If she could not go out and play and people treated her as if she was made of fine porcelain and might break at any moment, she counseled herself that the cold months of Hundri were fine ones to miss so that she might be recovered on time for the Stresian plant. Father moved her bed into the big room and she made sure to spark a fire for the family every morning. Nobody did much of anything at that time of year, but they gathered around the hearth and talked and laughed and played cards.
If Svitlana was bored and frustrated by having to stay in one place and let people do things for her, this redoubled as the Stresian plant began. Yet, she was not morose. People came in and out of the room all the time and she practiced her magic and moved things with it. They would speak with her for a bit and squeeze her shoulder and tell her that she would have the brace off any day now and would have to work extra hard to make up for lost time. When the apothecary from town asked her to turn over this way or sit up straight or move her legs, she learned how to do the first two and convinced herself that she was doing the third by wriggling her hips. When he poked her in the foot with a little sharp thing, she let out a yelp and they looked each other in the eyes.
Yet, it only continued: everyone bustling about and working and Svitlana on her own in a stupid bed, ordered not to move while her back healed. As the seeds and dirt were piled in the front room, father was forced to move her, temporarily, to the storage room and, though she understood why, the girl did not like it. At least, sometimes, Alina or Andriy would come and talk and play beside her bed, or little Yevhen would be placed there to crawl about. Yakiv and Cheslava did not come around often, however, for they had to work hard in the fields and she could not join them. Mother, who had been heavily pregnant, gave birth to baby Myroslava, and grandmother was needed for the planting as well. So, it fell to prababusya, who was eighty years old, to lift her great-granddaughter from her bed a few times a day and take her to the privy and help her change her clothes. Only the two of them saw how the girl wet herself no differently than Myroslava. Only the two of them knew that, sometimes, when prababusya was too sore or weak to lift her, Svitlana sat up on her own and dragged herself, sitting, across the floor where she needed to go. Not in front of mama, papa, or her siblings, though. Never in front of them.
Once a week, when the weather was nice, she was moved outside, and people would smile and ask her how she was doing and reassure her that she would be back on her feet soon. Why, she was skipping all the work of the plant, the little rascal! They would stay and talk for a bit, but never long enough and, when she asked if there was some simple work that she might do with her hands, Svitlana was told, always, that she must rest and recover and not strain herself, and that she must pray. Then, they would walk away where she could not follow and go back to their work and speak in low sad voices that she could sometimes hear a little bit of. It was going to be a bad year for the crops, she was told, a bad year indeed.
If it was, Svitlana could not say. The leaves grew thick and green on the trees and her brothers and sisters went out on those long excursions to the river and the forest whenever they were not needed to tend the fields. On the last weekend of every month, they went into Lyubev and - she counted - it had been five months (half a year) since she had come along. At first, mother had stayed back with her and little Myroslava, who was too young to travel, but when the baby was old enough, it was only her and her great-grandmother. The rest of them kept on living, but she remained frozen, watching and talking, while others occasionally helped her to do the things she could not do herself. She thought of Lame Lyuba and how easy it had been to be on the other side and she cried. Every day, however, Svitlana talked with prababusya, who taught her all that she knew in magic and who secretly let her out of bed and allowed her to help with the chores she could do. Quickly, she learned how to use magic to make them faster and easier, so that there was not very much she could not handle that she hadn't before. Through trial and error, she learned to control her body so that she could go to the privy when she wanted. Yet, sometimes, she was alone. The old woman would disappear for a couple of hours, and the girl always worried - for she was largely by herself and could not walk, and because prababusya was so very old and her health might decline at any moment. Every night, to this effect, Svitlana prayed that she might just heal, as she had ever since that day in Somni, but the apothecary had stopped coming and the adults had shaken their heads and flashed her smiles that had lost all power of reassurance. Now she prayed a bit less fervently for herself than she had before, and a good deal more for prababusya, that she might remain strong in those hours she was away, and for many years to come.
The old women of the village pored over the young girl, prodding here, bloodletting there, administering the remedies they knew and building a brace. Mostly, however, they prayed, which was the first thing that Svitlana remembered upon waking up. At first, it was hoped that she might recover once her back was set. Uncle Vitali, who was a carpenter, made her a special bed to heal in and placed her by the window. If she could not go out and play and people treated her as if she was made of fine porcelain and might break at any moment, she counseled herself that the cold months of Hundri were fine ones to miss so that she might be recovered on time for the Stresian plant. Father moved her bed into the big room and she made sure to spark a fire for the family every morning. Nobody did much of anything at that time of year, but they gathered around the hearth and talked and laughed and played cards.
If Svitlana was bored and frustrated by having to stay in one place and let people do things for her, this redoubled as the Stresian plant began. Yet, she was not morose. People came in and out of the room all the time and she practiced her magic and moved things with it. They would speak with her for a bit and squeeze her shoulder and tell her that she would have the brace off any day now and would have to work extra hard to make up for lost time. When the apothecary from town asked her to turn over this way or sit up straight or move her legs, she learned how to do the first two and convinced herself that she was doing the third by wriggling her hips. When he poked her in the foot with a little sharp thing, she let out a yelp and they looked each other in the eyes.
Yet, it only continued: everyone bustling about and working and Svitlana on her own in a stupid bed, ordered not to move while her back healed. As the seeds and dirt were piled in the front room, father was forced to move her, temporarily, to the storage room and, though she understood why, the girl did not like it. At least, sometimes, Alina or Andriy would come and talk and play beside her bed, or little Yevhen would be placed there to crawl about. Yakiv and Cheslava did not come around often, however, for they had to work hard in the fields and she could not join them. Mother, who had been heavily pregnant, gave birth to baby Myroslava, and grandmother was needed for the planting as well. So, it fell to prababusya, who was eighty years old, to lift her great-granddaughter from her bed a few times a day and take her to the privy and help her change her clothes. Only the two of them saw how the girl wet herself no differently than Myroslava. Only the two of them knew that, sometimes, when prababusya was too sore or weak to lift her, Svitlana sat up on her own and dragged herself, sitting, across the floor where she needed to go. Not in front of mama, papa, or her siblings, though. Never in front of them.
Once a week, when the weather was nice, she was moved outside, and people would smile and ask her how she was doing and reassure her that she would be back on her feet soon. Why, she was skipping all the work of the plant, the little rascal! They would stay and talk for a bit, but never long enough and, when she asked if there was some simple work that she might do with her hands, Svitlana was told, always, that she must rest and recover and not strain herself, and that she must pray. Then, they would walk away where she could not follow and go back to their work and speak in low sad voices that she could sometimes hear a little bit of. It was going to be a bad year for the crops, she was told, a bad year indeed.
If it was, Svitlana could not say. The leaves grew thick and green on the trees and her brothers and sisters went out on those long excursions to the river and the forest whenever they were not needed to tend the fields. On the last weekend of every month, they went into Lyubev and - she counted - it had been five months (half a year) since she had come along. At first, mother had stayed back with her and little Myroslava, who was too young to travel, but when the baby was old enough, it was only her and her great-grandmother. The rest of them kept on living, but she remained frozen, watching and talking, while others occasionally helped her to do the things she could not do herself. She thought of Lame Lyuba and how easy it had been to be on the other side and she cried. Every day, however, Svitlana talked with prababusya, who taught her all that she knew in magic and who secretly let her out of bed and allowed her to help with the chores she could do. Quickly, she learned how to use magic to make them faster and easier, so that there was not very much she could not handle that she hadn't before. Through trial and error, she learned to control her body so that she could go to the privy when she wanted. Yet, sometimes, she was alone. The old woman would disappear for a couple of hours, and the girl always worried - for she was largely by herself and could not walk, and because prababusya was so very old and her health might decline at any moment. Every night, to this effect, Svitlana prayed that she might just heal, as she had ever since that day in Somni, but the apothecary had stopped coming and the adults had shaken their heads and flashed her smiles that had lost all power of reassurance. Now she prayed a bit less fervently for herself than she had before, and a good deal more for prababusya, that she might remain strong in those hours she was away, and for many years to come.
It was on Asanyy the thirty-second that Cheslava awoke to a crackling hearth with a pot set to boil, mother to a cleaned kitchen and chopped vegetables, and father to three large sacks of flour loaded onto the wagon for the trip to Lyubev in two days. At first, each of them was confused, waking and asking the others who had done the work. Eventually, they thought to open the door to the storage room that had become Svitlana's to ask if she had seen anything.
Prababusya had, in fact, been working on a project during those mysterious hours each day. It was a simple thing: a long plank with leather straps for Svitlana to secure her legs to, some upholstered padding for her to sit on, and the slightest lip of a footrest and one for a backrest. It had smooth skids on the bottom so that she might pull herself along with less effort, a quartet of handles to make carrying her a bit easier when needed, and a pair of simple axles running across the skids so that small wheels might be attached for her to move around with more easily indoors. With it had come a simple locket, and none but Svitlana and old Zenoviya knew what it contained.
The girl was outside, in the closest part of the turnip field, pulling weeds. She had, with the help of her magic, pulled as much as she ever had before. Her brace was off and the sun was on her shoulders and she looked up and brushed some hair from her eyes. Perhaps they should've noticed the darkness of her skin already had they not been too busy for her. Perhaps they would've seen how strong her arms had gotten. Either way, after some discussion and a stalwart insistence that she would go to town with them in the wagon this month, things simply returned to normal, or... a new normal.
The warm months wore on and, as everyone had joked awkwardly with her before, Svitlana worked extra hard to make up for lost time and, perhaps, to allay some of those uncomfortable glances that she regularly received. Should not the invalid daughter be sent into town to live where the nuns might care for her? Shouldn't they at least not force her to work in the fields with her frail body? She would go mad in either case and, so, she worked as she always had. Each day, she would be carried by father or Taras and set somewhere to work for the next couple of hours before being moved but, gradually, as her arms grew stronger and those around her more comfortable with the idea, when she received a tough pair of gloves to protect her hands, they simply let her slowly make her way wherever she needed to go within the property. Occasionally, she would get stuck and spend the next half hour trying to hide her shame before being rescued, but this happened less and less as time wore on. The warm months stretched long and off went Yakiv and Borys and Cheslava, Alina joining them sometimes now, on their adventures down by the river or the forest. Yakiv and Taras had started trapping, and Cheslava and Alina picked berries. Svitlana, with too much energy and not enough to do, set her attention to a pair of new tasks: to learn her letters and to find something that would allow her to move more easily than the board.
Father had not been lying, however, when he said that the harvest would be a tough one. Svitlana found most of her attention drawn its way, and the family suffered endless anxious hours tending to the fragile plants. The menana that she had received from the monks in Lyubev and the book on blacksmithing she'd gotten last year from Lukyan sat unread as she focused on the problem, but Svitlana's Gift was decisive. She spent countless long days out there, coaxing water from far away into their soil and finding the minerals in the ground that the turnips needed and craved. After some instruction from prababusya, she managed to create a smell that a marauding swarm of locusts did not like and father pushed her frantically around the farm on a small wagon as she spread it. If it was still not their best harvest, all in all, the Rudenko family had enough to eat while others were skipping meals or borrowing from bankers.
So came her tenth birthday, and so it went. In one year, she had gained the Gift, ended up a cripple, and recovered herself as best she might. Leaves fell and so did temperatures and Mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and the three oldest daughters: Cheslava, Svitlana, and Alina, sat by the hearth sewing clothes and stockings and shoes. She made herself a thick pair of gloves, with leather grips on the outside so that she could make fists and push herself along. Soon enough, snow replaced the leaves and, when it was firm and smooth, it proved a godsend. Strapped to her plank, how freely and easily Svitlana could slide! She had not moved with anything approaching speed or ease under her own power since that day last Somni and, though it was still a far cry, it was... something, at least. Yakiv fashioned a rope to pull her with when she got tired and she essentially had a sled. A year after she had lost her legs, she sat there in the snow, in the same place, a hint of frostbite on her cheeks and a smile on her face as she ducked behind a fort and made snowballs to throw at her siblings.
Prababusya had, in fact, been working on a project during those mysterious hours each day. It was a simple thing: a long plank with leather straps for Svitlana to secure her legs to, some upholstered padding for her to sit on, and the slightest lip of a footrest and one for a backrest. It had smooth skids on the bottom so that she might pull herself along with less effort, a quartet of handles to make carrying her a bit easier when needed, and a pair of simple axles running across the skids so that small wheels might be attached for her to move around with more easily indoors. With it had come a simple locket, and none but Svitlana and old Zenoviya knew what it contained.
The girl was outside, in the closest part of the turnip field, pulling weeds. She had, with the help of her magic, pulled as much as she ever had before. Her brace was off and the sun was on her shoulders and she looked up and brushed some hair from her eyes. Perhaps they should've noticed the darkness of her skin already had they not been too busy for her. Perhaps they would've seen how strong her arms had gotten. Either way, after some discussion and a stalwart insistence that she would go to town with them in the wagon this month, things simply returned to normal, or... a new normal.
The warm months wore on and, as everyone had joked awkwardly with her before, Svitlana worked extra hard to make up for lost time and, perhaps, to allay some of those uncomfortable glances that she regularly received. Should not the invalid daughter be sent into town to live where the nuns might care for her? Shouldn't they at least not force her to work in the fields with her frail body? She would go mad in either case and, so, she worked as she always had. Each day, she would be carried by father or Taras and set somewhere to work for the next couple of hours before being moved but, gradually, as her arms grew stronger and those around her more comfortable with the idea, when she received a tough pair of gloves to protect her hands, they simply let her slowly make her way wherever she needed to go within the property. Occasionally, she would get stuck and spend the next half hour trying to hide her shame before being rescued, but this happened less and less as time wore on. The warm months stretched long and off went Yakiv and Borys and Cheslava, Alina joining them sometimes now, on their adventures down by the river or the forest. Yakiv and Taras had started trapping, and Cheslava and Alina picked berries. Svitlana, with too much energy and not enough to do, set her attention to a pair of new tasks: to learn her letters and to find something that would allow her to move more easily than the board.
Father had not been lying, however, when he said that the harvest would be a tough one. Svitlana found most of her attention drawn its way, and the family suffered endless anxious hours tending to the fragile plants. The menana that she had received from the monks in Lyubev and the book on blacksmithing she'd gotten last year from Lukyan sat unread as she focused on the problem, but Svitlana's Gift was decisive. She spent countless long days out there, coaxing water from far away into their soil and finding the minerals in the ground that the turnips needed and craved. After some instruction from prababusya, she managed to create a smell that a marauding swarm of locusts did not like and father pushed her frantically around the farm on a small wagon as she spread it. If it was still not their best harvest, all in all, the Rudenko family had enough to eat while others were skipping meals or borrowing from bankers.
So came her tenth birthday, and so it went. In one year, she had gained the Gift, ended up a cripple, and recovered herself as best she might. Leaves fell and so did temperatures and Mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and the three oldest daughters: Cheslava, Svitlana, and Alina, sat by the hearth sewing clothes and stockings and shoes. She made herself a thick pair of gloves, with leather grips on the outside so that she could make fists and push herself along. Soon enough, snow replaced the leaves and, when it was firm and smooth, it proved a godsend. Strapped to her plank, how freely and easily Svitlana could slide! She had not moved with anything approaching speed or ease under her own power since that day last Somni and, though it was still a far cry, it was... something, at least. Yakiv fashioned a rope to pull her with when she got tired and she essentially had a sled. A year after she had lost her legs, she sat there in the snow, in the same place, a hint of frostbite on her cheeks and a smile on her face as she ducked behind a fort and made snowballs to throw at her siblings.
It was a year and a half later on one of these excursions - though not one where she was present, for she rarely went during Stresia on account of the mud making it hard to move without being carried - when Alina found something. She had been peering over the blacksmithing book with Svitlana earlier, the older girl lamenting that there had been no further meetings with Lukyan, and so she recognized the particular lustre of a particular metal from its illustrations as she was digging. It was a deep hole and father was annoyed, for it was on the new land they had purchased from a failing neighbour the year before and the girl was pocking it. Cheslava, Yakiv, Borys, and Svitlana were roped in to see the discovery that the girl insisted on showing them, however, and the book was brought along, carried reverently by Borys, for whom it was a great and arcane thing mostly beyond his comprehension.
There was, indeed, something shiny down there and, over the next few days, Alina and the two boys - plus Cheslava when she wasn't looking after little Miroslava and mischievous Yevhen, and Svitlana, when the ground was hard or they had the energy to carry her - excavated an ever-expanding gash in the corner of their property. Once they could be sure that they had found a vein, they compared the simple drawings and, one by one, Svitlana sounded out the more difficult words. Gone were her days playing by the well in Lyubev. She now spent five hours of each visit learning her letters with the nuns, since her Gift made her useful and her lameness made her tenuous. She tried her best to make sense of the book by candlelight in the evenings, Borys or Alina often leaning over her shoulder.
After three days of intense study, and Taras being cajoled into chipping off a sample with father's pickaxe, she and Alina proudly presented their conclusions to father, mother, and prababusya. It was a vein of extremely rare and valuable trivalium. Svitlana made a well-reasoned case, full of evidence, and showed off Taras' sample.
The next few weeks were a scramble. Svtilana still shudders to think of sheer exhaustion. It taxed even her seemingly boundless reservoirs of energy to their limit. Various family members must've gone into town a half-dozen times, where Father consulted with people who were duly sorted into three groups by the family each weekend around the dinner table: trustworthy, self-interested, and rotten. Svitlana could not help but run into Lukyan a handful of times, who had given her the book nearly three years ago and disappeared from her life since, but he showed no interest in the girl he had chased and climbed and played with before. Instead, she spent plenty of time with the nuns, who she heard were keen to have her join their order.
Father negotiated with people but, in the meantime, much as she appreciated them, Svitlana did not want to be a nun. While there, often left on a bench with a book and a slate to practice her writing, she wondered at the casual way that those with noble blood among them used magic. Sometimes, as an incentive and so that she might care for herself, they taught her their magics of Binding. To be able to heal wounds and close flesh with the Gift was something almost beyond comprehension. It was the purview of the Gods! Eagerly, she asked the nuns if she might heal her legs somehow, Lukyan's awkwardness as much as the myriad of other reasons occupying her mind. The holy women shook their heads regretfully, however, explaining that Svitlana's Gift and knowledge were not enough for such a major complex injury and that it would only have been possible soon after the accident had happened. That night, she cried again, but she went to sleep with a clenched fist and an idea in her mind.
It was three days after that when Mother and Father brought her to a well-appointed room in Lyubev where they placed her on a soft chair at a large table. Three important men dressed in fine clothes came in and they spoke with father about how much money he would get for selling his land and the rights to the trivalium under it. The crops had just been planted, and Svitlana thought it wasteful to sell the land before they were ready, but the amounts of money, she realized, were fantastic! They passed out a long document and father put it in front of her and asked her to read every word carefully and out loud. The girl's palms went slick with sweat and she breathed unsteadily, but she read it all, pausing on the strange words or phrases. Then, her father made his mark beside the nobles' fancy swirling signatures, mother made her mark, and Svitlana wrote her name with simple but neat penmanship. That same evening, Lukyan came back around, but father and mother sorted him into the 'self-interested' category, and said that she should think of other boys instead.
It would be four more months before the land changed hands and a new fence was built. In the meantime, Svitlana cared for the crops with her usual dedication, especially as mother was heavily pregnant and soon to give birth. Rezain came with fancy new clothes, a new sister named Maryna, and a special purchase given to her on her birthday. She had been lent books from Hospodar Pavlo's private library, and learned all about different mana types from them. She had learned of the tethered, whose magic was great and powerful but made them lame, and the 'wheeled-chairs' that many used to get around. This, then, was what father went into town on his fine new wagon with their two new horses to bring back. This was what Svitlana eagerly unstrapped her legs - skinny useless things they'd become - from her board for. It felt weird and floaty to sit there and there was a moment where she did not like it, but then she pushed herself forward and moved, like on her sled on the slipperiest of show-covered places, only... she could stop and turn quickly, and look people in the eyes at sitting height! A world of possibilities that had been closed off to her for the past two and a half years reopened in her mind's eye and at least the tears that came were happy ones. She spent that night racing her siblings down the packed dirt track outside their home. It didn't matter that she only beat Yevhen and Myroslava.
There was, indeed, something shiny down there and, over the next few days, Alina and the two boys - plus Cheslava when she wasn't looking after little Miroslava and mischievous Yevhen, and Svitlana, when the ground was hard or they had the energy to carry her - excavated an ever-expanding gash in the corner of their property. Once they could be sure that they had found a vein, they compared the simple drawings and, one by one, Svitlana sounded out the more difficult words. Gone were her days playing by the well in Lyubev. She now spent five hours of each visit learning her letters with the nuns, since her Gift made her useful and her lameness made her tenuous. She tried her best to make sense of the book by candlelight in the evenings, Borys or Alina often leaning over her shoulder.
After three days of intense study, and Taras being cajoled into chipping off a sample with father's pickaxe, she and Alina proudly presented their conclusions to father, mother, and prababusya. It was a vein of extremely rare and valuable trivalium. Svitlana made a well-reasoned case, full of evidence, and showed off Taras' sample.
The next few weeks were a scramble. Svtilana still shudders to think of sheer exhaustion. It taxed even her seemingly boundless reservoirs of energy to their limit. Various family members must've gone into town a half-dozen times, where Father consulted with people who were duly sorted into three groups by the family each weekend around the dinner table: trustworthy, self-interested, and rotten. Svitlana could not help but run into Lukyan a handful of times, who had given her the book nearly three years ago and disappeared from her life since, but he showed no interest in the girl he had chased and climbed and played with before. Instead, she spent plenty of time with the nuns, who she heard were keen to have her join their order.
Father negotiated with people but, in the meantime, much as she appreciated them, Svitlana did not want to be a nun. While there, often left on a bench with a book and a slate to practice her writing, she wondered at the casual way that those with noble blood among them used magic. Sometimes, as an incentive and so that she might care for herself, they taught her their magics of Binding. To be able to heal wounds and close flesh with the Gift was something almost beyond comprehension. It was the purview of the Gods! Eagerly, she asked the nuns if she might heal her legs somehow, Lukyan's awkwardness as much as the myriad of other reasons occupying her mind. The holy women shook their heads regretfully, however, explaining that Svitlana's Gift and knowledge were not enough for such a major complex injury and that it would only have been possible soon after the accident had happened. That night, she cried again, but she went to sleep with a clenched fist and an idea in her mind.
It was three days after that when Mother and Father brought her to a well-appointed room in Lyubev where they placed her on a soft chair at a large table. Three important men dressed in fine clothes came in and they spoke with father about how much money he would get for selling his land and the rights to the trivalium under it. The crops had just been planted, and Svitlana thought it wasteful to sell the land before they were ready, but the amounts of money, she realized, were fantastic! They passed out a long document and father put it in front of her and asked her to read every word carefully and out loud. The girl's palms went slick with sweat and she breathed unsteadily, but she read it all, pausing on the strange words or phrases. Then, her father made his mark beside the nobles' fancy swirling signatures, mother made her mark, and Svitlana wrote her name with simple but neat penmanship. That same evening, Lukyan came back around, but father and mother sorted him into the 'self-interested' category, and said that she should think of other boys instead.
It would be four more months before the land changed hands and a new fence was built. In the meantime, Svitlana cared for the crops with her usual dedication, especially as mother was heavily pregnant and soon to give birth. Rezain came with fancy new clothes, a new sister named Maryna, and a special purchase given to her on her birthday. She had been lent books from Hospodar Pavlo's private library, and learned all about different mana types from them. She had learned of the tethered, whose magic was great and powerful but made them lame, and the 'wheeled-chairs' that many used to get around. This, then, was what father went into town on his fine new wagon with their two new horses to bring back. This was what Svitlana eagerly unstrapped her legs - skinny useless things they'd become - from her board for. It felt weird and floaty to sit there and there was a moment where she did not like it, but then she pushed herself forward and moved, like on her sled on the slipperiest of show-covered places, only... she could stop and turn quickly, and look people in the eyes at sitting height! A world of possibilities that had been closed off to her for the past two and a half years reopened in her mind's eye and at least the tears that came were happy ones. She spent that night racing her siblings down the packed dirt track outside their home. It didn't matter that she only beat Yevhen and Myroslava.
Svitlana was now twelve years of age and it was important to begin considering a future marriage or career. If her ability to use the Gift had altered her prospects drastically, and her sudden lameness even more so, the wealth that her family had come into positively revolutionized both. The mine on the Rudenko family's former land proved to be a mind-bogglingly rich one, and they managed to purchase not only a fine house in town, but also a new plot so that Taras, who was due to marry the miller's daughter, might have his own land. All of the Rudenko children - and even mother - were soon being tutored in their letters, but Svitlana's case was unique.
She would likely not marry, on account of her lameness, she was reasonably well-read already, and - most importantly - she had the Gift! Her mother set her eyes towards St. Yuri's but, as much as Svitlana had begun to grow (her first blood had come a few months prior and she now had something of a woman's shape), it was not enough. When she was measured by the nuns of St. Zoya, her capacity on the Rahman-Albanda scale (another new term for the former farm girl) came in at 4.92, more than a half-point shy of the prestigious magic school's minimum requirement and, if she could read, she could not do so like the noble children.
No matter. For his daughter's thirteenth birthday, Father ordered a new wheeled-chair for her designed by those same hegelans who she'd brought apples to as a child. Their wares, which had always seemed out of reach, were imbued with further manas and, seated in her new chair, Svitlana now stood (or sat) at a mighty 5.44. She was still a tiny bit short. Surely, she might grow a bit more, but the school was exacting and the examiner was due to come in a month. Pavlo's son, Artem, was to attend, and she would be the second from Lyubev and first outside of the nobility to make it in.
If she could not grow fast enough naturally, she went to work on Taras' farm. There, she enhanced her muscles with what she now knew to be kinetic magic, lifting heavy sacks and transporting water and getting stuck in the mud enough times that her brother eventually so lost his patience with having to come and rescue her that he forbade her to go further than two hundred yards from him while working. While her upper body grew even more impressive from the effort and she lost the softness that had been building in her midsection, it wasn't enough.
So, the family took a risk. A golden future lay ahead if she could just get into that academy. They contacted a man named Zhadan who supposedly worked for the masked ones and he, in turn, contacted a Kozaky named Oksana who also worked for them. She was able to procure a thing forbidden by Svitlana's books, but she had read up well and knew that aberrations were not dangerous if consumed in small amounts over an extended period. She found her deliverance waiting beneath an oak tree near the family's old farm, where picks and shovels scraped and hammered in the distance. She took it and it filled her with power and energy and how she wanted more! Cheslava grabbed her by the hand as if she were a greedy child and pulled her away. Svitlana's capacity was now 5.88. She took a wagon train and left for St' Yuri's. Books, clothes, both of her wheelchairs, mementos from home, and the plank that prababusya had made her four years ago were loaded into the back. The old woman rode with her as far as Kharlaiv, both of them seeing the great city with its towering cathedrals, grand plazas, and bustling harbour for the first time. There, they parted, for the last time.
Zenoviya Rudenko passed away three weeks after her return from the journey, in her sleep. She had been, lately, sick with a cough and a fever. While little Vitali, who was all of two years old, could not share her name, the youngest of the Rudenko children, a girl born two weeks after her passing, was named in honour of her. For Svitlana, this death was a blow that shook her greatly. The days before she could return home for a brief summer break were excruciating in their wait. When she did, she cried once more, but also found that she did not have much time for it. The penmanship was terrible and the letter was short but, with Alina's help, Zenoviya had written her beloved great-granddaughter a short final message. Of course, there was the baby who shared her name, and rambunctious Yevhen was showing signs that he, too, might have the Gift.
Still, Svitlana was not strong enough, she confided in her family. She had been among the weakest students at her school and, though some of her failures had come from her anxiety and depression at her beloved prababusya's passing, she knew that she needed more power. It was the way of things and it was yet another decision that she would make and live with the consequences of, for better or worse. So, her family found a solution, as they always had. She took a second aberration under the tree and trembled with delight, Cheslava taking time off from her wedding preparations to peer over her sister's shoulder with a concerned face.
Svitlana was now 6.39 on the scale. She was there for the wedding and a few easy weeks in a familiar place with familiar people, and then she was back at St. Yuri's, working on her Vossoriyan and her Avincian and thinking, the more that she read and learned, that she would very much like to see Ersand'Enise someday. Her grades improved, but there was only so far that she could go, though instructors had pinpointed why it was that she seemed to have an odd, patchy drawing and casting range: the same thing that had allowed her to move more easily in some areas than others, or had let her pull weeds in the same places she'd previously been from distances she should not have been able to. She had a truly rare mana type - not tethered, as near everyone assumed, but porous! It was little understood and perhaps not valued as it should've been and, yet... it got her thinking.
The next year, as Svitlana came back from a decadent Caldores celebrated with Hospodar Pavlo and his family, she found herself at Ersand'Enise for the annual Trials of Thaumaturgy with four other mid-ranking students from St. Yuri's. While her team did not fare well, the city itself was like nothing she had ever seen: a place where everything happened, where the world's great heroes and villains and eminent authorities congregated. How small her village and Lyubev, and even Kharlaiv and St. Yuri's seemed!
She wanted it. Svitlana had applied for Ersand'Enise two years previous, simply because she had applied for all magic schools, though she'd known she had no real hope of getting in. Back then, she'd had no listed mana type. Back then, she'd been just above a five on the RAS. Her chest swelled with possibility and ambition. She began studying Avincian in earnest and, when it was not enough, using her mana type to cheat on exams. She ordered up a third aberration that got her to 6.65 and, after a wait just long enough, a fourth that boosted her to - well, almost seven. With her wheelchair and a new hat that she'd gotten, she had broken through the ceiling. However, a school of such renown was looking for classically useful mana types and, thanks to a dozen or more cases of people assuming that she was a tethered, Svitlana was intimately acquainted with the type's abilities. She began studying the two tethered at her school, figuring out how to use her porous abilities to mimic them. She had Alina commission a set of mana kites for her, which she picked up during the warm months. Finally, after some digging, she found an Arch-Zeno who had few scruples and sent a little extra... funding his way. Her family had money to burn, these days, and none of them knew much of what to do with it except to spend on all manner of luxuries. She was more purposeful.
She was accepted. So it is that Svitlana Rudenko, peasant, paraplegic, and porous, or perhaps lady, scholar, and tethered, makes her way to the greatest magic academy in the world. What further adventures she will have there remains to be seen!
She would likely not marry, on account of her lameness, she was reasonably well-read already, and - most importantly - she had the Gift! Her mother set her eyes towards St. Yuri's but, as much as Svitlana had begun to grow (her first blood had come a few months prior and she now had something of a woman's shape), it was not enough. When she was measured by the nuns of St. Zoya, her capacity on the Rahman-Albanda scale (another new term for the former farm girl) came in at 4.92, more than a half-point shy of the prestigious magic school's minimum requirement and, if she could read, she could not do so like the noble children.
No matter. For his daughter's thirteenth birthday, Father ordered a new wheeled-chair for her designed by those same hegelans who she'd brought apples to as a child. Their wares, which had always seemed out of reach, were imbued with further manas and, seated in her new chair, Svitlana now stood (or sat) at a mighty 5.44. She was still a tiny bit short. Surely, she might grow a bit more, but the school was exacting and the examiner was due to come in a month. Pavlo's son, Artem, was to attend, and she would be the second from Lyubev and first outside of the nobility to make it in.
If she could not grow fast enough naturally, she went to work on Taras' farm. There, she enhanced her muscles with what she now knew to be kinetic magic, lifting heavy sacks and transporting water and getting stuck in the mud enough times that her brother eventually so lost his patience with having to come and rescue her that he forbade her to go further than two hundred yards from him while working. While her upper body grew even more impressive from the effort and she lost the softness that had been building in her midsection, it wasn't enough.
So, the family took a risk. A golden future lay ahead if she could just get into that academy. They contacted a man named Zhadan who supposedly worked for the masked ones and he, in turn, contacted a Kozaky named Oksana who also worked for them. She was able to procure a thing forbidden by Svitlana's books, but she had read up well and knew that aberrations were not dangerous if consumed in small amounts over an extended period. She found her deliverance waiting beneath an oak tree near the family's old farm, where picks and shovels scraped and hammered in the distance. She took it and it filled her with power and energy and how she wanted more! Cheslava grabbed her by the hand as if she were a greedy child and pulled her away. Svitlana's capacity was now 5.88. She took a wagon train and left for St' Yuri's. Books, clothes, both of her wheelchairs, mementos from home, and the plank that prababusya had made her four years ago were loaded into the back. The old woman rode with her as far as Kharlaiv, both of them seeing the great city with its towering cathedrals, grand plazas, and bustling harbour for the first time. There, they parted, for the last time.
Zenoviya Rudenko passed away three weeks after her return from the journey, in her sleep. She had been, lately, sick with a cough and a fever. While little Vitali, who was all of two years old, could not share her name, the youngest of the Rudenko children, a girl born two weeks after her passing, was named in honour of her. For Svitlana, this death was a blow that shook her greatly. The days before she could return home for a brief summer break were excruciating in their wait. When she did, she cried once more, but also found that she did not have much time for it. The penmanship was terrible and the letter was short but, with Alina's help, Zenoviya had written her beloved great-granddaughter a short final message. Of course, there was the baby who shared her name, and rambunctious Yevhen was showing signs that he, too, might have the Gift.
Still, Svitlana was not strong enough, she confided in her family. She had been among the weakest students at her school and, though some of her failures had come from her anxiety and depression at her beloved prababusya's passing, she knew that she needed more power. It was the way of things and it was yet another decision that she would make and live with the consequences of, for better or worse. So, her family found a solution, as they always had. She took a second aberration under the tree and trembled with delight, Cheslava taking time off from her wedding preparations to peer over her sister's shoulder with a concerned face.
Svitlana was now 6.39 on the scale. She was there for the wedding and a few easy weeks in a familiar place with familiar people, and then she was back at St. Yuri's, working on her Vossoriyan and her Avincian and thinking, the more that she read and learned, that she would very much like to see Ersand'Enise someday. Her grades improved, but there was only so far that she could go, though instructors had pinpointed why it was that she seemed to have an odd, patchy drawing and casting range: the same thing that had allowed her to move more easily in some areas than others, or had let her pull weeds in the same places she'd previously been from distances she should not have been able to. She had a truly rare mana type - not tethered, as near everyone assumed, but porous! It was little understood and perhaps not valued as it should've been and, yet... it got her thinking.
The next year, as Svitlana came back from a decadent Caldores celebrated with Hospodar Pavlo and his family, she found herself at Ersand'Enise for the annual Trials of Thaumaturgy with four other mid-ranking students from St. Yuri's. While her team did not fare well, the city itself was like nothing she had ever seen: a place where everything happened, where the world's great heroes and villains and eminent authorities congregated. How small her village and Lyubev, and even Kharlaiv and St. Yuri's seemed!
She wanted it. Svitlana had applied for Ersand'Enise two years previous, simply because she had applied for all magic schools, though she'd known she had no real hope of getting in. Back then, she'd had no listed mana type. Back then, she'd been just above a five on the RAS. Her chest swelled with possibility and ambition. She began studying Avincian in earnest and, when it was not enough, using her mana type to cheat on exams. She ordered up a third aberration that got her to 6.65 and, after a wait just long enough, a fourth that boosted her to - well, almost seven. With her wheelchair and a new hat that she'd gotten, she had broken through the ceiling. However, a school of such renown was looking for classically useful mana types and, thanks to a dozen or more cases of people assuming that she was a tethered, Svitlana was intimately acquainted with the type's abilities. She began studying the two tethered at her school, figuring out how to use her porous abilities to mimic them. She had Alina commission a set of mana kites for her, which she picked up during the warm months. Finally, after some digging, she found an Arch-Zeno who had few scruples and sent a little extra... funding his way. Her family had money to burn, these days, and none of them knew much of what to do with it except to spend on all manner of luxuries. She was more purposeful.
She was accepted. So it is that Svitlana Rudenko, peasant, paraplegic, and porous, or perhaps lady, scholar, and tethered, makes her way to the greatest magic academy in the world. What further adventures she will have there remains to be seen!
Father: Kostyantyn
Mother: Solomiya
Siblings: Taras (21), Cheslava (19), Yakiv (18), Svitlana (17), Borys (15), Alina (14), Andriy (12), Yevhen (10), Myroslava (8), Maryna (6), Vitali (5), Zenoviya (3).
Grandfathers: Illya, Maksym
Grandmothers: Tetyana, Svitlana
Uncles: Vitali, Volodomyr, Matviy
Aunts: Yanina, Oleksandra, Kseniya
Great-grandmother: Zenoviya
Mother: Solomiya
Siblings: Taras (21), Cheslava (19), Yakiv (18), Svitlana (17), Borys (15), Alina (14), Andriy (12), Yevhen (10), Myroslava (8), Maryna (6), Vitali (5), Zenoviya (3).
Grandfathers: Illya, Maksym
Grandmothers: Tetyana, Svitlana
Uncles: Vitali, Volodomyr, Matviy
Aunts: Yanina, Oleksandra, Kseniya
Great-grandmother: Zenoviya
M O T I V A T I O N ____ ___ __ _
Svitlana doesn't believe in fate or fortune. Things simply... happen because people or nature or the Gods make them happen. Then, the way that people react to those causes consequences. She is, perhaps, not so detached and scientific about it, but this is the gist. She was born with the Gift because it ran in her family. She broke her back because she had been playing dangerously and stretched it too far. The trivalium that had always been on that land came into her family's possession because Alina, who liked digging, had made a choice to dig in that spot because there were pretty purple flowers nearby. That land had become theirs because Svitlana had used her Gift to help that year's harvest while others' had failed and they'd been able to buy it. Father had always wanted more land, since he had plenty of willing hands to work it and more food was always a good thing. Svitlana had learned how to use the magic that had saved their crop because she had been idle and with prababusya after breaking her back and she had needed something to do. It was all the result of people's actions. The Gods gave them free will.
Svitlana is not the type to preach, but she believes in her ability to do just about anything that she sets her mind to. She doesn't know for certain what kind of outcome she'll earn or where the journey will end, but she's resolved to make the absolute most of it and lose nothing to idleness or a lack of will. If she fails at anything, she either accepts it or finds a different solution. Life is an upward journey, and the challenge is rewarding. Will she become Queen of Menskuva? Will she ever be an arch-zeno? Likely not, and she isn't sentimental enough to dream of either except in passing or worry deeply about her legacy or mark on history. She simply chooses goals as they appear attainable before her, and works towards them with the same effort that she formerly put into field labour and regaining her life after breaking her back. Other than that, she wants what any young woman of her day and age might want: wealth, security, romance, and a loving family - in short, happiness. Svitlana does not expressly seek out adventure, but will not shy away from it either. If a job needs doing and she thinks that she might have a way to do it, she will. Unacknowledged, lies something inside of her that relishes a challenge and will pursue it a bit more than is strictly healthy. Maybe she has something to prove - a disabled foreign girl from a far-flung peasant family - but one only rarely gets the sense that there's a chip on her shoulder.
I N V E N T O R Y ____ ___ __ _
Svitlana tends to travel lightly, relying on her Gift, her allies, and a lifetime of hands-on experience to see her through most situations. She packs pointedly for where she is going and what she is doing instead of trying to cover every base. Beyond that, she brings bloodletting tools, for the sake of her medical practice and to make use of her porous mana type, small collapsible mana kites to extend her range with, and a mini toolkit for her wheelchair. Somehow, all of these items fit in the backpack that hangs off the back of it, and she jokes that it is actually a VOID backpack. Whether or not this is more than mere jest is open for debate. She also, variously, can be found with at least some of the following on her person at all times:
❖ A tough pair of leather gloves with enhanced grip;
❖ Packets of fast-growing seeds;
❖ At least a few tomato seeds;
❖ A special pair of gloves and a bin that allows her to pick up and carry small aberrations;
❖ A wheelchair of advanced hegelan/sirrahi design;
❖ Hyperdense energy pills ostensibly to fertilize seeds;
❖ A wide-brimmed sun hat;
❖ A series of glass lenses that seem to focus and reflect light;
❖ An old tarnished silver locket of simple manufacture on a leather cord.
❖ Packets of fast-growing seeds;
❖ At least a few tomato seeds;
❖ A special pair of gloves and a bin that allows her to pick up and carry small aberrations;
❖ A wheelchair of advanced hegelan/sirrahi design;
❖ Hyperdense energy pills ostensibly to fertilize seeds;
❖ A wide-brimmed sun hat;
❖ A series of glass lenses that seem to focus and reflect light;
❖ An old tarnished silver locket of simple manufacture on a leather cord.
Not on her person but always under Svitlana's ownership can be found a great many seeds, cutting boards, beakers, bowls, and cooking tools, as well as a spare wheelchair, plenty of dresses, a few pairs of shoes, many fine hats, and a collection of useful books, including the blacksmith's materials guide that she received for her ninth birthday. She still keeps a small chunk of trivalium from her family's original property, her great-grandmother's last letter to her, and the 'plank' that she used to get around as a child.
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S ____ ___ __ _
❖ [Determined and tough]: when it comes down to it, there's just no quit in Svitlana;
❖ [Excellent knowledge of healing]: she seems to know a lot about how bodies of all types work, particularly internally;
❖ [Strong and versatile mana types]: Porous and energizer allow her to fake being a tethered, and offset each other's weaknesses well;
❖ [Hard-working]: Svitlana will not slack or get lazy. She will always put in the work to get the results;
❖ [Insightful]: She's good at recognizing patterns, being socially perceptive, and having attention to detail;
❖ [Good cook]: plenty of time in the kitchen with her mother, grandmother, and beloved prababusya has made her an excellent cook;
❖ [Practical knowhow]: Svitlana has worked with her hands for most of her life. She knows how to find simple solutions.
❖ [Excellent knowledge of healing]: she seems to know a lot about how bodies of all types work, particularly internally;
❖ [Strong and versatile mana types]: Porous and energizer allow her to fake being a tethered, and offset each other's weaknesses well;
❖ [Hard-working]: Svitlana will not slack or get lazy. She will always put in the work to get the results;
❖ [Insightful]: She's good at recognizing patterns, being socially perceptive, and having attention to detail;
❖ [Good cook]: plenty of time in the kitchen with her mother, grandmother, and beloved prababusya has made her an excellent cook;
❖ [Practical knowhow]: Svitlana has worked with her hands for most of her life. She knows how to find simple solutions.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S ____ ___ __ _
❖ [Dishonest]: Svitlana is very willing to lie to get what she wants, at least to strangers;
❖ [Unconvincing]: She is not always the best liar in her second and third languages, and tends to 'oversell' things;
❖ [Provincial]: While not stupid, her lack of exposure to the broader world shows in her bluntness, superstition, and lack of sophistication;
❖ [Paraplegic]: Svitlana lacks any feeling or movement below her waist. She relies heavily on the Gift for mobility and many basic tasks;
❖ [Poor Avincian]: Despite her enthusiasm, she is less than fluent in her third language, particularly in terms of the written word;
❖ [Poor impulse control]: When Svitlana wants something, she really wants it, and does not self-regulate well.
❖ [Unconvincing]: She is not always the best liar in her second and third languages, and tends to 'oversell' things;
❖ [Provincial]: While not stupid, her lack of exposure to the broader world shows in her bluntness, superstition, and lack of sophistication;
❖ [Paraplegic]: Svitlana lacks any feeling or movement below her waist. She relies heavily on the Gift for mobility and many basic tasks;
❖ [Poor Avincian]: Despite her enthusiasm, she is less than fluent in her third language, particularly in terms of the written word;
❖ [Poor impulse control]: When Svitlana wants something, she really wants it, and does not self-regulate well.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S ____ ___ __ _
❖ Tomato is Svitlana's speech colour code.
❖ Coral is her thought colour code.
❖ The similarity between the two serves to reflect how little filter she appears to have.
❖ Incidentally, tomatoes hold a special place in Svitlana's heart and are her favourite fruit.
❖ Svitlana loves singing, though she doesn't stand out in terms of talent, and can play a bit of the bandura and balalaika.
❖ Coral is her thought colour code.
❖ The similarity between the two serves to reflect how little filter she appears to have.
❖ Incidentally, tomatoes hold a special place in Svitlana's heart and are her favourite fruit.
❖ Svitlana loves singing, though she doesn't stand out in terms of talent, and can play a bit of the bandura and balalaika.
