Celia Acaele'onn's tale, thus far, is one of blessed mundanity. She was born a child of Iryalen, and has been tempered by unconditional love— A love bestowed in excess by her parents. Celia's mother, Hileia (NPC) was an astute healer. There was no greater joy for kind Hileia than being able to be of aid to someone. Celia's Father, Aylir (NPC), was an alchemist. While Hileia rejoiced in the joy of others, Aylir only wished to see the smile of his Sweet Hileia. With the two being so overwhelmingly infatuated with one another, it was no surprise that little Celia soon came into their lives, on a starry night like no other, where it seemed as though the stars were just within reach.
Growning up, Celia's mother would recall tales of the Nemglam, the Lady of the Sky. She would speak of freedom, the open skies, and the vast world which they knew little of— And Cecilia wished for nothing more than to experience it for herself. Music, however, was a means of communication to that end. For no matter what language one may speak, music transcends any barrier there may be. It was no wonder then, that once she came of age, she was quick to leave her nest, and fly onward toward unseen skies.
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?”
'Dingy?' Celia exclaimed with genuine confusion, 'Why, this is far from dingy. It is quite unlike anything I've seen before.'
The wide-eyed lass tilted her head, before narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. Why was she here, really? There was no reason. It was merely destiny. Celia moved as the wind led her— Answering Nemglam's calls, until someday she had seen it all.
'I am a child of Iryalen, of course.'
Celia put a hand to her chest, lost in brief reminiscense. There, hanging off her neck, rested a pendant in the form of an eagle— A crude carving, clearly the handiwork of some amateur who had little experience with the art. There were two letters engraved onto the bottom, that read H & A.
'But I wish to be one who has seen it all.'
Celia's eyes snapped open, and she moved with a fresh vivacity, as if her determination had been born anew. She smiled confidently, straightening her back, before suddenly making her way towarrd the exit. Still, even in her abrupt leave, she did not forget to offer a perfectly polite wave.
'So, I must go on.'
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