Race: Mixed Blood Human and Biqaj (3/4 Human - 1/4 Biqaj)
Date of Birth: 28th of Ymiden Arc 697
Occupation: Flame Element (Special Assistant)
Factions Joined: The Elements
Languages: Common (Fluent) Rakahi (Broken)
Marks:Taithir (Mark of Ethelynda)
As a Human Biqaj mixed blood Sephira possessed the bright color changing eyes of her father’s people. When curious her eyes are a soft cerulean, much like the color of the ocean at midday and when confident her eyes bleed to a deep scarlet with a solid black ring around the outer edges of her iris. If fear grips her, Sephira’s eyes change to a bright ghostly silver, and if pleased or happy the hue changes to a deep sunset gold rippling with waves of citrine and topaz yellow. When calm her eyes turn an unassuming umber brown, but when anger seizes her Sephira’s eyes darken to a deep black color.
Much like her mother, the young mage enjoys indulging in a striking sense of fashion. Preferring to wear well-tailored coats in bold colors paired with muted neutral breeches and tunics, normally in black or gray. Her sense of style reflects her quick and agile combat style, electing to wear form fitting clothes and avoiding dresses like the plague.
Her skysteps are similarly colored.
Glowing Crimson eyes when Rupturing / *Witchmark : Upon initiation as a Rupturer, Sephira's irises now glow a faint crimson from the pupil outward when she is actively Rupturing. Some of her initial eye-color can still be seen but it is greatly obscured by this mutation. This Witchmark allows her to see what lies on the other side of her portals.
Emotional Mirror: Sephira's Spark has grown entangled in her own emotions, both to benefit and disadvantage. When frightened, her spark is jumpy and has a tendency to open up blinking portals suddenly with any slight movement of her hand to respond to any danger. When angry, her portals will be louder and more aggressive, when sorrowful they tend to jump shorter distances and last even less time than ordinary, and while joyous her blinking portals take her farther, as if the Spark wants to show off for her. Through discipline and keeping her emotions under control, Sephira can mitigate the worst of these Spark mood swings, but the Spark is beginning to respond with her, feeling what she feels, and flares in kind.
A Flame in the Dark - Gained here
As this is a mental mutation Sephira was mostly unaware of it's effects until after this event.
Spark's Shortcut: Sephira's Spark is beginning to grow in it's control of her and is in more demand of it's use on a trial by trial basis. The Spark has become tied to both her emotions and her mind. It will no longer allow it's host to waste her time with menial travel. If a destination would be better reached by Rupturing then her Spark will Blink her without permission. This can include the following examples: If Sephira is trying to step over an obstacle, her Spark with Blink her to the other side. If she is trying to beat someone in a race, then her Spark will portal her to the finish line without her consent. Any time the Spark decides that it can save Sephira time or effort it will immediately send her to her destination via Blinking, regardless of her control. As she is not always prepared for it, she will almost always be shocked and sent stumbling the moment she is Blinked. This can put her in danger if it is done at an inopportune time.
Shadow Cylus Event - Gained here
Again, since this was a mental mutation Sephira only went through the growth of her Spark in this thread, the repercussions of that growth were realized in later threads.
Booming Sneezes: Every time Sephira sneezes, it will create a loud booming sound much like the opening of a portal
Awarded in the Shadow Cylus Event after Overstepping
Her devil-may-care personality has always gotten her into a fair bit of trouble. That confidence led her to breaking her arm as a teenager when rupturing during practice without clearly picturing her destination. Sephira is more likely to go into a situation guns blazing, rather than carefully considering all her options. That said her persona is not without its charms. The young woman has the uncanny ability to sweep others up in her enthusiasm; this can sometimes lead to fast friendships but it can also lead herself and her friends into disaster.
Before the death of her mentor, Sephira tended to shirk responsibilities and give little thought to the wellbeing of her friends. Now she can be a mite bit overprotective of those she cares for. A hyper aggressive streak can be seen in the young mage when her allies or loved ones are threatened. One might confuse her for a rabid wolverine if facing her in the heat of battle. Because of this Sephira is prone to overextending herself magically and physically; going all out when enraged.
Emotional sensitivity is not her strong suit, expressing her feelings is something the young mage actively avoids. She is a world class example of conversational pivoting. Sephira will change topics or completely ignore any line of inquiry that concerns her feelings. As such the woman is emotionally stunted and has never really appreciated the delicate nuances of romance. After witnessing the consequences first hand of what happens to those who associate with mages, Sephira has become fearful of growing close to anyone.
The Rupturer has become incredibly disciplined during her time in the military. She has now seen combat and death first hand, and has killed on several occasions. Her persona seems almost haunted with the knowledge of her actions and the impact she has had as a soldier in the Flame Troops.
Her identity as a mage has become far more complex now that she understands the price mages pay for access to their magic. Her Rupturing Spark has become more and more entangled with her emotions and her mind, causing havoc when she is not completely focused on keeping it in check. The Element has developed a soft spot for mages, especially those that go down dark paths because they were not given the care and education to be something better. She strives to eventually provide those things for mages, especially for those in the military.
Sephira is no longer the carefree, willful girl she was during her time on Faldrass. She has been hardened by her time as a soldier and as a mage, granting her a chilly exterior that very few people ever see past.
As a talented seamstress and rug maker, Amelia has made a fairly comfortable living catering to the needs of tourists at the local marketplace. Although far from possessing any great amount of wealth, Amelia still managed to arrange for her daughter to be educated by a local tutor during her formative childhood years. While she didn’t wish to tame her free spirited daughter, she did wish that Sephira have a chance at a better life. It was a chore for her poor tutor to make the young girl sit still during their lessons, as Sephira was constantly in motion, never wanting to stop for even a moment.
To be quite honest, their first meeting did not go well. Startled, the gangly young girl immediately dashed back through the crag the moment they made eye contact and slid in a tumble of dust through the entrance of the cave out into the sunlight. There was suddenly a loud thrumming groan from within the mountain that shocked Sephira into the realization that the volcano must have awoken. Shielding her head with her arms, the girl curled into a ball fearing that she was in mortal danger. Almost as soon as it began the sound had stopped and out of nowhere a grizzled old hand clapped her on the shoulder. It was the old man; his face creased into a scowl as he plucked her up from the dust like a misbehaving cat and set her on her feet. He demanded to know who she was and why she had stumbled into his cave of all things! Sephira was trembling from the shock of the last few moments, only realizing a few trills later that somehow the old beggar had been waiting for her outside the cavern before she had made it out herself. The crag leading into his home was only big enough to allow one person through at a time; it made no sense that he made it outside before her. Jostling her again, he demanded once more to know her name and why she was there. With a trembling voice Sephira gave her name but abruptly became very distracted by the sword on his belt. The blade was made of bright curved steel and sported a brass basket hilt in the shape of a winged dragon. It was a lovely thing, and it totally ensnared her attention to the point that she rudely ignored the rest of his questions and kept asking where he had gotten the sword and if she could please have it.
This was how Sephira met Elias. He never told her if he had a surname, he was simply Elias to her. It took some convincing and shameless begging to have her trespasses forgiven; granted she mostly swayed him with a new set of clothes from her mother’s market stand and a few sweets she snatched from another trader. Regardless, he began to enjoy her visits; it was nice to have some company from time to time. Eventually Sephira began noticing odd things happening around Elias. Sometimes he would seem to travel from one side of his cave to the other in a blink when she was not looking. On the rare occasion that Sephira convinced him to come down the market with her; she noticed that he always sent her ahead of him so he could travel alone at a more ‘leisurely pace’. As soon as she was out of his sight she would hear that loud thrumming noise again and somehow he always beat her to the bottom of the volcano. It was the same sound from their first encounter, and as the weeks passed Sephira began to put two and two together.
At fifteen arcs old Sephira finally confronted her cave dwelling friend. Upon her declaration that he must be a mage, Sephira suddenly found herself being ignored by Elias and pushed away. Many times he would simply not be there when she went to try and speak to him. It was as if he knew when she was coming. There would sometimes be a freshly stewed kettle of tea waiting to be poured, or a book lying open on his cot, the pages still moving a bit as though it had just been set down by its reader. It was disheartening to be ignored by her friend. Sephira knew that many people did not really like magic users; plenty of the traders in the market cursed nameless mages when their fortune turned sour, or when the weather was bad. Personally she thought of mages as heroes if they were all like Elias. He was kind and wise even if he was always trying to hide his true nature from her. They confided in each other about little things, he always gave good advice when her mother was hounding her over her lessons, or when the other children were picking on her for never playing with them anymore. Every trial she could spare young Sephira ventured back to the cave to see if he was there so they could talk; and to ask if maybe he would teach her.
Finally after what seemed like an age, Sephira found Elias waiting on the wide cliff just outside his home. He was garbed in a worn black leather coat with faded golden sigils emblazoned on the shoulders and lapels. The curved sword with the brass dragon encircling the hilt was clasped proudly to his belt. He turned to her and gave her a piercing look before asking if she truly understood what it was to be a mage; that he had retreated to Faldrass to live the life of a hermit because of how he had been treated because of what he was. After reflecting on his question Sephira answered that she understood that many people hated mages, and that some people hated them for foolish reasons. Elias frowned as she spoke before correcting her, stating that many mages were hated for justified reasons, because mages possessed a wild and dangerous power that threatens the lives of all people. Elias had never had an apprentice before, but he had reflected on the issue for many years. Everyone he had ever considered in the past had lacked the conviction and guile, but here was a girl with plenty of resolve and spirit. Perhaps he was a vain old fool, but some part of him wanted to leave something behind when he reached the end of his days.
What followed next was remarkable; Elias unsheathed his sword and seemed to blink away in a daze of indigo light before stepping out of a hazy flare of the same radiance, landing a few paces away. Before the young girl’s eyes Elias put on a demonstration of what he called Rupturing; explaining techniques as he performed them. Skystepping, blinking, and of course the creation of portals were all put on display before her. Equipped with his sword the old man became something else, a specter of blades and light that could blink in and out of combat with ease; nimbly climbing steps of hardened amethyst light to take an aerial advantage with great speed. It was a wonderful sight to see him come alive like this. Of course the free spirited girl begged him to teach her.
Initiation into Rupturing was something Sephira would never forget. It was like leaving her body behind and setting sail into some unknown cosmic sea; full of stars, crimson nebulas, and an unending blackness that threatened to swallow her. It was a bit like walking the deck of a ship in the grip of a violent storm. It was gut wrenching but at the same time endlessly beautiful. Somehow she could feel that Elias was with her even if she could not see him as they crossed that cosmic horizon. Sephira thought she might lose herself at one point, but eventually managed to tighten her grip on the tether that was keeping her grounded to her body and found her way back home.
Her first experiments with rupturing were little more than attempts to send sticks and rocks through her first portals. It would be some time after her initiation that Sephira would risk sending herself through one of her portals. Whereas Elias’s portals were of a bright rippling indigo, outlined in a shimmer of stars; Sephira’s appeared like scarlet nebulas, but like her masters portals they were interspersed with the same glittering pin-pricks of starlight.
Elias began instructing his young apprentice in the ways of swordplay. As a younger man, the mage had learned how to combine Rupturing with bladed combat, using his superior mobility of blinking and portals to out maneuver an opponent. Skystepping only made him far more deadly on the battlefield, allowing him to nimbly leap through the sky and dive down on unsuspecting enemies. This style of combat he passed on to Sephira, drilling her daily in sword stances and blinking in the heat of battle. It was during one of these training sessions that his apprentice misaligned her trajectory during a blink that sent her careening to the ground from ten feet up.
Explaining the broken arm to her mother had been difficult, especially since Sephira had kept her magehood a secret from everyone on the island. Her mother had met Elias before but had never appeared to suspect he was anything more than a kindly hermit. Most of the traders in the market now knew there was a man living alone on the mountain and that the seamstresses’ daughter visited almost every trial.
For the next season while Sephira healed, Elias decided to initiate her into discipline of Attunement. He had been waiting to address the subject at a later date but he was aware that Attunement could assist his student in ‘feeling’ where others were in space, rather than simply seeing them. Elias had enjoyed cowing his student’s wild ambitions by fighting her while blindfolded; using only her Frequency to ascertain where she was in space. It was time to begin teaching her this magic as well.
Initiation into Attunement was a different matter than Rupturing. Rupturing had been a wild and beautiful tour through the cosmos. With Attunement, Sephira stayed firmly in her own body while she sat in Elias’s cave, listening to and feeling the hum of the song that he passed on to her. It was a melody that Sephira could never quite place again; both exquisite to hear and agonizing to endure. When it was over she couldn’t help but feel changed by the experience. From that point on if she concentrated long enough she could recognize the frequencies of herself, Elias and her mother; allowing her to find her way to them within a short distance, even if they were hidden from view.
Once her sword arm had healed Sephira resumed her training. At nineteen arcs of age Sephira had learned enough to be a bit more of a challenge for her master in combat. She excelled more than her instructor at injecting acrobatics into her techniques. Leaping and twisting into a blink at full speed to retain her momentum when emerging at the desired location and using that inertia in her movement to stagger her opponent. It was exhilarating to feel the rush of blinking out of range of a blade only to appear just behind her mentor, ready to strike.
Sephira, being young and naive ignored Elias’s cautions, insisting that the world of his youth was far different than hers. She ignorantly wanted to prove that mages could be moral people that were beneficial to Idalos. Not to mention the daredevil in her wanted a chance to test her skills. She left the cliffside cavern, frustrated and angry with her mentor.
Trials would pass as Sephira debated leaving; irritated that Elias had insisted for her to stay. How could he ask that of her? This tiny island was nothing; it was safe, but uninteresting for a local. Nearly a week had passed since she had spoken to Elias. One night just as a blustery wind began harassing the shoreline and heralding a coming storm, Sephira was awoken by a strange tugging in her chest. It wasn’t exactly in her chest to be quite honest, but she did not know enough of sparks to understand what was happening. All she knew was she had felt this connection before during her initiation into Rupturing. She had known Elias was with her, even if she could not see him; like a slender thread connecting them at all times. Leaping from bed as silently as she could the young woman dressed and slipped out of the door. The first tentative drops of rain fell on her face as Sephira sprinted toward the slopes of the mountain. Something was wrong. The connection between master and student was getting weaker and weaker. Her eyes glowed a bright violet at their center as she reached out to the ether on the ledge ahead that led up to Elias’s cavern. A flash of red nebulous light washed over her vision as she willed her energy toward a pocket of ether over a dozen feet above her. Sephira burst from a second flash of scarlet light at a full run, before hauling herself up the next ledge, shards of obsidian cutting into her hands as she climbed. For several bits this was how she traveled; blinking where she could and climbing the rest of the way. Rain was steadily coming down, soaking her hair and clothes as she raced up the volcano.
Moments later Sephira stumbled up to the wide expanse of volcanic rock that marked Elias’s home. A silhouette of a man could be seen in a flash of lightening as he retreated down the other side of the cliff face. The young woman crouched down as she watched him leave, his short gray blonde hair and crisp uniform illuminated by the flashes of electricity in the sky before he faded away into the night. The thread pulling at her core faltered briefly like a candle in a breeze to remind her why she was here. Ignoring the sting of her battered hands and the retreating figure, Sephira hurried inside the narrow opening that led to her master's home.
Once her eyes adjusted to the light she realized that the room had been gutted as if someone had been searching for something. All of his books had been somehow been turned to ash and one of his oil lamps lay shattered on the ground. Elias himself was collapsed on his cot, clutching at his gut where his tunic smoldered and his flesh had been blackened by a deep horrendous burn. Sephira rushed over to him insisting that she would go back to the market town to get help. Elias held up his hand to stop her from leaving. There was no healing this, he explained with a pained expression. Elias continued, explaining through painful gasps that the man who had done this had been hunting him for arcs, seeking to punish the mage for his desertion. His hunter had been in Faldrass for the last few weeks, investigating and seeking him out. During the hunter’s time on the island learning of Elias’s hiding place, his pursuer began to suspect that the Elias had taken an apprentice. There was no doubt in Elias’s mind that his attacker would be searching for Sephira. She would either be killed or forcefully taken back to that man’s superiors to be used as he had once been. Begging her to leave the island and to go into hiding, her master told her to take his sword Wyvern as his last gift to her. Elias demanded that his apprentice leave that very night before she was found. At his forceful insistence Sephira left her dying master in the cavern and returned down the slopes of the mountain toward her home. The thread connecting her to Elias had grown incredibly faint as though a stray wind could tear it away. Sneaking back into her home, with her mother asleep in the other room, Sephira held back tears as she packed a bag and gathered everything she could for her journey that included her savings, Elias’s sword, and a new set of clothes her mother had been making for her. Hastily she scratched out a note on spare scrap of paper for her mother, explaining that she had to leave and that she loved her. Sephira did not want to leave home like this, but she believed Elias; the fear she had seen in his eyes and the nature of his wound had convinced her that she was no longer safe on Faldrass. Just as she finished signing the note Sephira felt the connection between herself and her master suddenly evaporate. It was a shock that caused her breath to catch in her throat once she realized what it meant. Elias was gone, and she had a boat to catch.