Inaeas

as the firstborn son of the great archfey and the chosen of his siblings, Inaeas dedicated his life to attempting to understand what that means. he abandoned his father as soon as he was able; Elano seemed more desperate to regain Charlotte's attention than to raise a child, diving deep into a near-obsession with the archfey.

so, he and his siblings left, and went their separate ways. Inaeas went to the largest city he could, and hunted through libraries for any information about Charlotte and other archfey.

his research turned up scarcely more than simple facts; as a child of Charlotte, he has innate magical powers, and his aging seemed to still after a certain point. and, he is more attuned to the fey realm as a whole.

but trying to discover what being one of the archfey's chosen children means has proven difficult-- and expensive. he acts as a scribe for coin, and writes informative encyclopedias on creatures and plants in certain regions.

but despite his day job, it's Inaeas's intent to find his mother and uncover what it all means; why she's doing whatever it is she's doing, and to help his siblings find peace in the world.

as more and more of his similarly chosen-half siblings pop up around the world, he takes them in-- if willing-- to guide them through the growth of their power.

it's been hundreds of years, and he has hardly more information than what he started with. but he continues, doing his best to do right by his half-siblings, to give them somewhere that they can belong and feel like a whole family.

---

there is a temple high in the mountains; it's held in high regard by travelers and pilgrims, known as a place of enlightenment and peace, though it's said to be impossible to get to.

it's a rumor, a wish, a desire by many. and yet, hardly any actually believe that the temple exists, and fewer still have even seen it. the area it's supposedly located is shrouded in dense plant life that shields against the cold of the altitudes so high up on the mountain, and pilgrims get lost in the woods and end up back where they started, no matter how many times they try or map out their paths.

there are whispers that tell of enchanted blood that will part the overgrown forest and foliage and lead a path directly to its door.

sometimes, these whispers will be heard by individuals with pupils sharper than most, with faces seemingly untouched by the passage of time. hope will spark in their hearts, and they will quietly slip away, preparing for a journey.

peace is a wonderful prospect, after all.