Lhara

HISTORY

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They were a waltz. An endless spiralling of mirages and spells to scintillate the stage. She preferred the gleam of lights. Fire and sparks, distorted shadows creeping around outstretched fingers. Her body would shift and she would become a monster, larger than any home or forest, goliaths made of smoke with maws yawning wide and rumbling like thunder across the enraptured audience. Through her mask she could see the faces of the crowd, their eyes wide with adoration, and she felt her heart sing with elated glee, her gluttony for the attention satiated.

But in her light, lived her shadow. Flitting through the crowd like a cold air, a skewed visage of a hat and a mask, fingers dipping into realms left untouched by mortals for centuries, grasping at the threads of magic and plucking them like lute strings into the physical world, bending to the living will.

They were famous, for their performances. As the people watched, Weave had knelt and clasped his hands together, as Lhara offered the sea of faces a knowing smile.

Her arms had opened out, cloak fluttering as if the night sky were sewn into its very fabric, before she had lifted. Smoke trickled along her legs, as she was raised into the air, eyes closed and starting to sing. Before, the audience had been in shock and awe. And then, the gasps, watching the smoke burst forth fire, rippling across in a spiral as she burst. In the silence, people had looked around, terrified, before one lone woman had pointed, and gasped...

(Written by PunchingSolas - continues in Weave's bio)