Jetlian

     From the start, My father, or as I knew him by Illian Silrose, is a 6'3 Mali'aheral from Haeluno'r with golden hair and blue eyes and a pale complexion quite elegant in his as I was told youth. My mother, Leanor Silrose on the other side is a 4'7 dark skinned Mali'ame from Irrinor with dark brown eyes and hair, eager, confident and had a fiery heart but affectionate and kind towards others. Has such I'm a rare 5'10 breed between them both, I got the hair and eyes of my beloved mother and the dreaded skin tone of my idiot father, at least, I don't have his ears anymore... but my story began with them...

     Illian, My father, was a somewhat sucessful scholar and researcher, most notabily, he researched and documented the differences between elven kind's cultures and religions. Ever the proud Mali'aheral, when he met my mother on an expedition of his, he spoke to her in high elven expecting her to not understand, but, was completely astonished that a lowly "unpure" Mali'ame like her would speak with such fluidity. Feeling smug, he talked to her in disdain but was met by a fiery personality and feel in love with her because of it, starting a secret relationship as not to be judged by other Mali'aheral, they soon began meeting under the stars. Never expecting a child because of the elven curse their meetings became something more... As fate would have it I was concived.

     Much changed after this, my father started meeting my mother less and less further delving into his studies as means of escapism. My mother distraught for being left behind with a kid lashed out at him shaming him in leaving his what would be family. Either of Guilt or Fear my father began to teach me all he knew, always hiding me from others as he feared he would be deemed "unpure". Childhood was tough always feeling conflicted by my father's teachings and my mothers compassion, one incentivizing Pragmatism and the other Idealism.

     One time at a young age around 6-8, I dont quite remember... things always seemed blurry, I was staying at my mother's place, playing with the other kids when I fell banging my head on a rock and supposedly broke my right ear, I ran to my mother crying grasping my broken ear, she looked and worried about it getting infected, she cutted the broken part off and patched it into a human-like ear leaving a small scar that would become less and less notable throughout the years. My father upon finding out what happened blamed my mother for not giving me the proper parenting even though she did it all for me... each day forth my father would seem colder towards me showing disdain as he once showed upon others calling his own son "Unpure one eared freak". When my mother found out about my father's treatment of me,she scolded him and this ended up breaking them both...I went to fully live with my mother, my father disowning me. Feeling guilty and shameful on the situation, rememebering my father’s insults, I broke my other ear with a stone and cut it off with an arrow out of my mother's quiver so, I would look atleast normal, and then... I fainted out of blood loss. I only remember waking up in my mother's bed with a fever, I grabbed my ear feeling a scar similar to my right one, not believing what just happened… I looked to the side and saw my mother looking to the ceiling with tears falling from her eyes and heavily breathing from all the sobbing, as she noticed me waking up, she smiled, cleaned the tears from her face, faced me, let out a huge sigh of relief, and hugged me without speaking a single word, i had been knocked out for upwards of 3 days... 

     Those were difficult times, but after some time, things began to settle. I didn't get ridiculed by the Mali'ame like the Mali'aheral would, and for the first time, I felt a sense of camaraderie from someone other than my family. After that, life continued, although my education stopped, I learnt marksmanship and Mali'ame Culture, although interesting, I guess, I would retain many of my father's teachings for the better or worse.