Born within Haelun’or to a family of fading noble blood, she was raised according to every expectation placed upon a Mali’thill daughter. She learned etiquette, diplomacy, literature, and the countless social rules that governed life among her people.
She disliked most of them.
Not because she despised tradition, but because she found the world beyond it far more interesting.
While her peers concerned themselves with appearances and lineage, she spent her time slipping away from tutors and formal gatherings to wander markets, speak with travelers, and lose herself in places she had no business being. She possessed an irritating tendency to ask questions others considered inappropriate and an even worse habit of acting on her curiosity.
The fall of Haelun’or only widened that crack between herself and the life that had been chosen for her. In the years that followed, while many sought stability and familiarity, she embraced movement.
She has lived among merchants for a season, sailed with crews she barely knew, attended noble courts she did not belong to, and vanished from them just as quickly. She is drawn to excitement almost as strongly as she is drawn to people. Not because she seeks danger, but because she fears stagnation far more.
Those who meet her often struggle to place her. She carries herself with the grace of a noblewoman, yet speaks far too casually. She appears composed, yet has a habit of disappearing in pursuit of whatever has caught her interest that day. S
At heart, she is simply searching for something she cannot yet name. Whether it is purpose, belonging, freedom, or merely the next horizon, she has never been entirely certain.
For now, she continues forward.
Weight – 61 kg
Eye color – brown
Hair – platinum, long and wavy
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?”
She settles into the chair, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. The candlelight flickers across her features.
"I come from the horizon."
Her eyes meet the old woman's.
"And I intend to keep chasing it."
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