Lyra Syllee was born into the unusually large Syllee family, a bunch of wood elf folks. They lived in The Vale of Nevaehlen, a family completely devoted to their fellow wood elves and their community. The Syllee's started out as a small and humble family, both of Lyra's parents were only children, all of Lyra's grandparents were only children - it was a thin line of which made up the Syllee family tree. That was up until Lyra's parents, Lyndis and Gantar, met in Nevaehlen. They were quick to fall in love and then have children at one-hundred-years-old, along with their children they shared many goals. They were obsessed with children, or in other words they were obsessed with bringing more elves into the world. By the time Lyra left, she had elven other siblings. Seven blood related, four adopted. She was the last child her parents actually had before they began adopting other children. Her parents wanted to raise them and keep them safe until they could go out and spread the word of the Elves. Lyra never found out what that word was, nor did she care. Lyra's parents believed in the gods along with every other wood elf in Nevaehlen and they hoped they would be rewarded for all the elves they raised. This was all obvious to Lyra due to how they treated not only her and her blood related siblings but how they treated her adopted siblings. Lyra and her siblings were kept safe physically, they were sheltered but far from loved. Lyra never claimed to be mistreated but she was awfully bitter about how little love she got, how little attention she received. Her siblings did not get more attention than her, Lyra's parents were simply distant from their children. It drove Lyra mad, forcing her to vow she would leave when she could. That moment came weeks after her sixty-fourth birthday.
Lyra's childhood was far from horrific. Her early years were not unusual, she spent her time doing simple and childish things. Gardening, learning and making friends. She did not make many friends; charisma was a skill she gained from maturity. She did not have many hobbies as a child, but gardening was something that was relatively easy and it gave her a break from the world. She could not constantly be outside working on planting flowers, of course, but plenty of her time was spent on this hobby. Gardening felt like a break from the world just like how rain drowned out the sound of everything else. This was her rain, her source of happiness and life. Lyra also spent time learning within Nevaehlen. She was far from a quick learner, she did not pick up on things easily, but she was determined. She read and wrote, she kept going on and on. She did not want to be the most intelligent elf to exist, she did not want much from her studies. What she truly wanted was a way to find out all of the secrets of gardening. She wanted to be able to plant anything, she wanted to live in a home of greenery just like she did now - except somewhere far away. She had not developed the fiery rage for her parents just yet, but she certainly knew there had to be more to life than Nevaehlen. Her parents were much more protective during this time. She was a weak child, not quite sickly but she was not strong either. She had little potential in the strength department, although she did not mind. Lyra never wanted to be physically strong, she did however want for much more. As a child she wanted a lot, she wanted to live in a castle of plants far away, she wanted to befriend every creature she saw, she wanted much more than strength or power. She wanted to be comfortable.
Lyra grew angry during her later years, right before she reached maturity. She was not a mess of course; she was smart enough to simply hide herself away. She became a recluse in some ways, she rarely spoke with her parents and she had little friends from childhood. Her only real friends were her family in the end and she slowly made sure they did not notice her anger. She hated her parents mostly, her siblings were not awful, her grandparents were kind people that were sadly on their deathbeds. Her parents were the ones to blame really. They were so obsessed that they were distant, they only cared that their children survived. Food, clothing and shelter were always there but nothing else was. There was no comfort in their house. Lyra had never paid much attention to how her and her siblings were treated as a child, but now it was very obvious. Her older siblings, all being blood related, were made to take care of her and her younger siblings. If it was not pounded into her head that Lyndis and Gantar were her parents she would have assumed some of her older siblings to be her parents. Her younger siblings were all adopted, they were orphans and some of them were related to each other. Lyra's parents were only able to adopt four children, so she did not have a large number of younger siblings. Her parents were even more distant to the younger siblings, or so she was told by them. It only made Lyra more and more angry. Why was her family trying to break a curse? Her parents had to know it was not working, just because they were able to produce children every forty years did not mean they were breaking a curse made by something so much stronger than them. They would not be rewarded by any god; they were not heroes. They were monsters for hurting her siblings, for hurting her. And in all honesty, Malin was the curse - not the fact children could rarely be produced by their people. Lyra could only find hatred in her heart, accompanied by sadness, for those around her. Her vow to leave only became more real, it became her only goal. She was afraid she would not have a purpose when she finally reached it, it took up all her days, it took her mind. She did not go mad, she did not dive into insanity. She just sought to be free. Why did her freedom come at the price of hating her family, at hating Malin? She could not find it in herself to be happy, sadness was always in her heart.
After she turned fifty she did not leave as she thought she would. She instead took her time and waited; Lyra wanted the perfect moment to leave The Vale of Nevaehlen. That moment did not come, it never came. If it had somehow come while her back was turned she did not notice it; instead of leaving she stayed for several years. Gardening and leaving were the only two things on her mind and the easier option was just so appealing. She devoted herself to planting and protecting nature during the years she could have readied herself to leave. It was only during her sixty-fourth birthday, surrounded by her siblings, that she realized she wanted to leave. She realized she would never get her chance, there was no right time, there was no perfect moment. The weeks following this birthday she prepared herself, there was no plan. It would simply be fate if she lived. When she felt ready she did not take her time, she ran and she fled. It took her months but she made it to a settlement of which she decided to settle in. Of course, she would need time to do such a thing, but she had time now. She had the rest of her life to spend, what was a hundred more years?
