Raised to an Avriel family that travelled most of their lives, Vaughn spent little to no time in and around other Avriel besides his own parents. Others often joined together to form caravans, and many a time the Avriel would find themselves in the company of Biqaj clans. Despite this, Vaughn grew up in a relatively normal life, learning to befriend others and spending a large portion of his childhood playing with the other children. All that proved different was his appearance and his time spent learning to fly. Despite it, the other children loved Vaughn and often days and nights went by with playfights and mock battles. Fake dragons killed, enemy knights battled and castles won in siege.
As Vaughn grew older and the group continued to spend nights together he begun his training.
In order to keep the group safe and protect oneself, Vaughn's father insisted he learn to fight. The weapon he chose to use was up to him, and how he wanted to fight was of his own to find. Be it talons, swords or great two-handed weapons that could topple monuments. All that mattered was he prepare for the worst. Vaughn never learned why it was that his father was so adamant he fight, nor did his father ever intend on sharing what it was he had seen and done that taught him to fight, but he respected his father's decision. After all, Vaughn had always dreamed of being a warrior.
After time training and practicing in the basics, trying a small arrangement of weapons, Vaughn found comfort in the use of a flail and a shield. His size alone made the idea of a shield, especially a heater shield, preferable. Combined with a flail, one that could use his momentum in combat and could be swung in a way that avoided his wings? It felt right. So he begun his training. Flails were complex, however, and certainly not easy to use against simpler weapons. Shields, on the other hand, Vaughn took to nearly immediately.
With this training continuing for his entire life, Vaughn grew more comfortable in his routine. Yet nothing happened that made him great, nothing exciting like the adventures he had dreamed of as a boy. Very few times did he have to use his weapons, very few times did he defend his people. Some bandits in the night, a beast straying too close to the camp. Until his early twenties, that was. Bandits in the night, larger in group than most bandits ever travelled, rushing when the moon was hidden behind a treeline, the world dimly lit at best.
Grasping for his weapon and shield, Vaughn was among the first to defend against the invaders that seemed to be storming the camp. Flail collided with ribs, shield blocked the blow of poorly made daggers. Only a couple of swings made it past his defense, all deflected before they could become dangerous. But the highlight of his night was not the chance to fight, nor was it the lack of casualties - but the first show of magic he had seen in his life. Shimmering air deflecting attacks, arrows snapped in half as the air itself seemed to harden. Near to nobody sustained so much as a scratch, and stood before his eyes was a man he had grown to know over some time yet spent little to no personal time with - an older man the young folk often nicknamed Ray.
After the events of the night and the reveal of this power, Vaughn approached Ray fascinated, having never seen magic prior. Almost immediately the young man asked if he could learn such a power, but to his disappointment he was denied, told that Magic was not the kind of power to be handed over to anyone without much thought about it. When Vaughn asked what he could do to earn that right, Ray simply shook his head and told the boy to leave it alone.
Respecting the man's decision, another year passed as Vaughn continued to train and prepare, growing larger and stronger with each day that passed. Everything was peaceful, quiet. Within the quiet, however, brewed bitter feelings. Friends breaking apart, arguments happening among family. When one of these relationships, a young girl and her older sibling, broke apart it happened before many of the clan. Arguing in the town square, the significantly older brother raised his hand continued to shout and yell at the ever scared girl, before raising a hand in anger as if to strike the girl.
But before he could, Vaughn moved to intercept.
With a heavy shove of his shield the older brother was knocked backwards, Vaughn standing between him and his sister with narrowed eyes. "Not today. Not her. Control yourself" he insisted with a heavy voice. It was a boy he had known, one years younger than himself and short of temper, but still a friend of the clan and a member of the large family regardless. The town stood and watched, many tense and waiting to see what would happen, others ready to interfere if things came to blows. Yet as the man opposite him flushed red, embarrassed and humiliated, Vaughn remained calm and patient. Even as the man looked to him ready to swing, Vaughn simply lowered his weapon and hand and kept the shield raised.
"You are of this clan. I will not harm you."
The words fell on seemingly deaf ears, the young man turning to swing and attempting to hit Vaughn. Yet as promised, the Avriel remained calm, using his shield to maintain a distance while avoiding harming the man that swung at him. Shoves, gentle in nature, and no attempt to do any real harm but simply to defuse the situation. It was all he could do to some level, but beyond that - it was what was right. Tempers rose, people erupted. It was no excuse to do harm, nor to stoop to a level he would not be proud of.
After less than a minute of tiring himself out, Vaughn already feeling the bruises of a few sneak punches that had landed firmly, the Avriel looked with slightly narrowed eyes. "You forget yourself. She is of your blood, of your clan. You ought to be ashamed of the thought entering your mind. See that it does not happen again."
Then, assuring the girl was okay and glancing as her older brother stood in shame, Vaughn made his way to a healer to ensure his bruises would heal and no skin had been split. It was there, as he was checked over, that Ray approached. Impressed not only with the bold attempt at defending the girl, but at the calm stoicism and refusal to fight the brother. The mention of clan. It was the proof he had needed, he just asked one promise. If this magic was to be passed on, this Spark to be shared ever, Vaughn must ensure it fall to the right hands. To ensure this gift was to never be passed forward to evil or used maliciously. When the Avriel agreed, the deal was made, and the initiation prepared.
Days later, the initiation underwent. Sovereign and Transmutation were both used against him with great force. Onslaughts of magic overwhelmed him in a way that he had never felt prior, an initiation that no amount of warning could have given him. But he had to endure. Beyond what he intended to do with his life, beyond the potential magic waiting at the end of this, there was the will to survive - the fight inside. So fight he did. Pushing as hard as he could, to try and break the magic apart and learn, embracing the spark for what it was.
