Schattenfeuer » Lair » Hefin

Hefin

(#56377141)

Level 25 Skydancer

Familiar

Filter Fiend

Energy: 44/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.8 m

Wingspan

5.26 m

Weight

442.96 kg

Genetics

Obsidian
Python

Lapis
Constellation

Antique
Spines

Hatchday

Oct 29, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Water
Faceted

Level 25 Skydancer

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

105

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Zirrus
Rhune

Offspring

none

Biography

__._

Hefin Syzantiri.
↠ to be blind, deaf and hopeful

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall..."

Those who are with no sin, may cast the first stone.

Before the judges were appointed, back then in the twilight of the first years, when the city was young and the sky still filled with sunlight, there was only savagery. The kind that happens in the absence of laws, when anarchy attempts to fill the void created by it. There was more damage done in those early months than in all the bloodsport-battles combined.

After the establishment of law and order, the city had calmed down significantly, forced to slow down, as crime and barbarism were scorched indiscriminately and those caught in the crossfire, were little more than acceptable casualties to justice’ iron fist. Order had to be kept, above all else.

While those times were long before her time, she remembered them too well. Because her father read to her endless times over, from history books of older times, from the creation of the ivory pillars, the very heart of justice within an undying Empire. At least, within the eternal nightly part. Whatever happened in the sundrenched part of the empire was not hers to worry about, they had their own judges and upkeepers of their laws.

And among the blind, the one-eyed must be king.

Heavy weighs the mask of gold and ivory on her, hiding her face and her exhaustion as she keeps struggling against the never ending tidal wave of crime. Deities above know, she tried, she tried despite her husband’s attempt to block her at every turn, to hinder and cripple and force her to step down from a position, that wasn’t even his to begin with.

Whatever love she may have had for the man, back then when she was a lady of the upper society and he an up and coming star among the Watchers, had long bled away. Had made room for numbness and cold apathy. There was no hatred, there was no joy for her as she watched him gnash his teeth and rage against her. If anything, she felt sorry for him, all the rage and all the drive in the world could not give him what he was craving for, so it seemed.

She is simply too tired by now, to reach out to him once more, to attempt to save their crumbling marriage. But then again, hadn’t it started to rot the very day her father laid there, struck down by a mysterious disease, quickly fading away both physically and mentally? On his deathbed, he had asked for them to come, her and her husband and everyone that was of importance. With his last breaths he made her his heir, his predecessor to take up the mask of carved ivory and don the mantle of the Judge within Ivory Pillars.

Of course she had obeyed, she loved her father, even if they were distant from each other for the majority of her life, the loss of her mother too deep, too raw, even after her parents were laid to rest side by side.

Justice is blind to rank and social status, she is deaf to the whispers of corruption and her touch is absolute.

She knows, by now, that her husband is not as innocent as he frames himself to be, his proclaims fading into white noise as she no longer listens to his honey sweet words, lest she wished for her lungs to clog up and her blood to thicken into syrup. Tiberius is a danger, she knows this too, to her, to anyone that is not on his side, that is not of use to him. It caused her to claim she is barren and swallow pressed medicine of poison and bitterness. Because a child from the loins of this man would only end up twisted.

It is hard to oversee that the Empire is corrupted, that the heart is stricken with decay’s fever, impassive and slowed down by the Parasites invited there by itself. She can’t claim to be much better, yet all the knowledge in the world only helps so far. When innocents get blamed for crimes committed by those who were supposed to protect them, it is hard to not grow numb to misery and injustice alike. The temptation to swing herself even higher, to become the embodiment of fanatical order whispers never endingly into her ear.

And between a slippery, backstabbing husband, a home as empty and cold as an open grave and of course, the Empire’s own mechanisms, it becomes harder and harder for her to resist.

___

code & assets by archaic #19153

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