Athelion was born to a fairly affluent mother on the Haven Islands, the lovechild of her and a young wood elf of Vectra. His mother, Aelina Velis met his father, Leoffren Laurelasse whilst Leoffren was out on a hunt that brought him too far from the safety of the borders of the forestry long past dark where she was camping. A cautious approach led to a peaceful night under the stars together sharing the little firelight they had, and from there the two became friends and later lovers in secret.
When Aelina became pregnant with Athelion it... became a strain. She was affluent yes, but without a husband people would talk and suspicions would arise. Thus, she sealed the doors to her estate and kept only her most trusted servants within her chambers while carrying the child to term. Once the boy was born, she sent the young Athelion to find somewhere safe to grow with one of her oldest guards, Gregory Veilhert, an old and trusted servant.
Athelion grew up under the care and watch of Gregory in Bastagr where the young boy was taught to read, write, and how to protect himself. Aelina had instructed Gregory to ensure Athelion could have whatever life he desired, and to teach him whatever skills necessary to do so.
His youth consisted primarily of learning how to read, and write- and from an early age Athelion had come to a fascination with theology, and the study of religious history. The men and women of great renown whom served the divine, and the beings above them. Eshtael, Tahariae, Cernunnos, and Xan became active feats of fascination, the Light of Xan, the Isolation of Eshtael, the young boy became endeared to the stories and tales as he grew older. By his early teenage years Gregory began teaching Athelion the sword, and spear, everything from longsword to smallsword, pike to bec de corbin. Though as a boy does as he becomes a man, Athelion grew restless in his home and longed to see the world, so with the little left saved from the permittance Aelina had given Gregory, he set off for the mainland.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
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Athelion smiled gently with a touch of confusion twisting his features. "Expecting me, ma'am? You must be mistaken, lest the reputation of a young foreigner precedes him?" he mused softly. "I am Athelion, I come from far Bastagr in hopes to learn more of this world, and perhaps to find my place within it. For my entire life I have studied the will of the Divine, and the machinations of the Dark, and I should like, perhaps, to have a chance to come to learn more of them firsthand. I must say I fear I'm a bit lost, would you mind telling me where I am?" He paused briefly once more, to add. "Forgive my poor manners, I realize just now I forgot to inquire your name, miss?.." he lingered expectantly for her name.
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