Cloth sewn by the connubiality of Sylrabren Arvorna and Aelesar Wynasul, a child weld by the appellation of Syndra Valeir Wynsaul was born. By the mighty walls of the Silver State Haelun’Or, he was raised and refuged. Leasing his earliest years by fond memories of a well family, well sustenance, a well name, and a well lifestyle - Syndra knew but the most desirable of livings. However, upon the forecame years of the child's latent toddlerhood, Aelesar and Sylraben were to produce yet another vertice. Thereby the late stages of his mothers pregnancy would a second child, a pure elfess, be given life. And upon the kindle of new kin would Sylraben perish by her labour bed, shortly after her passing would the felicity of his childhood and family structure falter, a funeral of both maternity and happiness. The next three years of the pair's lives, Syndra and his younger sister, had been knott by folds of their fathers emotional abuse and respectively, subject to his extensive neglect, such turbulence remaining unknown to all but the two young elven children. It was upon a lonely spring night that the disappearance of Aelesar Wynsul was written, as for where he went, remains a mystery till this day. And by such note, the Elf was officially pronounced deceased, whether that be by his cowardice or final breath. Onward from such an occasion, both Syndra and his youngling had been Orphaned, left in a state of confusion and turmoil as their fresh minds hadn’t yet begun to grapple with the situation before them. Without a second thought, they had been taken in and provided not only home, but a second chance at family, by an older cousin and a prominent community figure, Valyris Wynsul. It seemed that Syndra, by the swift passing years, had finally escaped the sunken sorrows of his early life and established gravitation towards a stable wellbeing and moral disposition, by Valyirs’ guardianship would he substantiate a normal life and grow to be well-off, intellectually developed, and aspiring young individual - fitting the robe of being exactly what the ideal High Elf should be. Spending his later teens under the mentorship of Valyris, who played the roles of a sister and a mother, the juvenile Elf would study diversity in art and indulge in teachings of Scholarly works and writings. Now, spending his days working to become an impactful and significant member of his community.
By the lull of a nightly gale would wafts of seaspray and swarms of algid air meet the movement of A slender figure. The mellow pelt of soft drawn steps atop the robust wooden bolster that bridged both the argosy and motherland would offer a lowly creek, thereby its cry the encroach of what appeared to be a blonde maned Elf would be made apparent. Slung by his left shoulder rests a leather messenger bag, by his right a navy coat that had hung loose in sway of the wind. Adorning an expression that wrote peaks of curiosity, Syndra’s emerald digits would furnace utmost interest, taking in the many sights that the port had embellished. Sifting his prowess through the dancing crowd and colourful queries, he’d allow for his gaze to float and skip between the lively stalls, everything about the dawned port brought butterflies to his lungs. Taking a moment to breathe it all in, the slender Elf found himself centric to that of the bustling crowd. Reclining in his structure slightly as for some brief moments, he’d fix his glare upon the dusk canopy sky that hung just above him. Alleviating a heavy sigh as he pressed his lids closed and part his lips wide, relieving all the tension he bore, it would also appear that by conclusion his exclaim would entail a mild chuckle. “Ah.. It.. feels quite nice to stretch my legs..” He’d have said just under his breath, taking further seconds to relax. However, upon his stationed withdrawal and cleansing of mind, Syndra would take notice of a well-dressed individual that came to approach him. Seeing such, he’d have straightened himself out and boast a loft brow, curious as to see if the man was even acquainting him, to which his assumption would prove correct. Mirroring the large smile that tugged by the man's lips, he’d take a second or so to carefully form a response. “Adventure, Wealth, Grand Aspirations..” he’d pause “Well.. this is an adventure.. No? Perhaps, I’ll allow this ‘lovely city’ to surprise me… with any of the prior..” … “Some treasures.. are best gifted not.. Necessarily searched for...”
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