Lyrielle tu Kovash Elmari
Details
Race: Hytori
Sex: Female
Age: 10,000 +
Height: N/A
Weight: N/A
Birthdate: N/A
Birthplace: Sol'Valen
Titles: Lady of Whispers, King Breaker, General of Shaeoth
Fluencies: Ancient Vallenor, Ancient Common
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
Appearance
After she was released from her prison Lyrielle found that she was unable to hold a physical form. She can condense into an elven shape, but she is whispy, ethereal, and unable to truly interact with the world. Because of this, she had been forced to inhabit other bodies. Before Frost of 120 AS this meant she had to inhabit the corpse of the woman who found her prison, but since then she had made anew arrangement with a mercenary known as Naila the Faceless who, in exchange for Lyra's cooperation in finding her sister, lets the ancient elf inhabit her body.
Lyra's Typical Appearance
The corpse she inhabited before meeting Naila was a young woman, somewhere in her mid to late twenty's with long dark hair, more brown than black. She can be described as pretty, with a small nose and an easy smile. With this appearance, Lyra's eyes are golden as they are in her true form, and she typically wears robes or other comfortable clothing typical of scholars or shop keepers in Kalzasi. Lyra has a preference for darker-colored clothing, especially blacks and golds, and wears little jewelry.
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Lyrielle's True Form
Lyrielle resembles most of her Hytori race or those who claim to be of the same kin as her people. When in her true form she appears as a slightly insubstantial version of the ancient elves, with their long ears and golden eyes. Before she was sealed away she was considered beautiful, and even centuries later that beauty remains, though not it is slightly... off. When she smiles it never quite meets her eyes, and her motions while elegant are just the slightest bit threatening. Her voice is rich and full, almost husky when she whispers, and when she moves she leaves tendrils of black smoke in her wake.
Her body is made of ethereal black smoke, constantly forming and dispersing over time as she struggles to keep a corporeal form. She can interact in small ways with the world, but to truly touch the physical she must inhabit a physical body. Her long silver hair flows like water around her, and sometimes when she grins the edges curl off to smoke giving her an unpleasant visage.
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Naila's Appearance
Naila and Lyra share control of their body, with Lyra being the primary holder of influence. In her past, Naila made a name for herself by being an expert at impersonations using Masquerade, and this skill has come in quite handy for their shared goals. When she is not disguising herself Naila looks like a Half Hytori, dark collection and black hair with hazel colored eyes. Typically when Naila is in control she changes some part of her appearance depending on the work they are doing.
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Personality
Confident, alluring, vain, and of course prideful. Lyra is the embodiment of power, and she behaves with the confidence of one who knows their own superiority. She views most, if not all non-Hytori with disinterest. She neither likes, nor dislikes the other elven descendant races, but feels that her people of old were clearly superior. The races that have appeared since the days of her shattering Lyra views as primitive, barely more than beasts. That said, however, all of the races seem acceptable when compared to humans.
Lyra purposefully presents herself differently to everyone she meets. She continually looks to poke and prod at a person's psyche, their mindsets and seeks to use them for her own purposes. She is manipulative, but in a subtle way and is not afraid of using underhanded tactics to get what she desires. More than anything though, she promotes those of the mortal races to give in to their baser instincts and desires and often tries to coax those around her into committing acts that are nefarious, rebellious, or outright taboo.
History
Lyrielle tu Kovash Elmari was born during the age of dreams, during that time when Gods walked among mortals, and magic was as natural as breathing. She was the daughter of a lesser house, closer to a servant than true nobility of the Boundless Empire. From a young age, she took to magic, and especially the Dinor'afiel, the Scribes of the Gods who captured the essence of magic and bound them to writing. It was a good life, for while it lasted. Lyrielle, who then was known as Lana, knew that her life was never truly her own. There was a tradition in those days, that every nobility had a shadow. One who would live with them, learn with them, and one day give up their life for their better. Lana didn't mind this either, for her Efi'nital, her light, was everything to her. Sierra was the daughter of the highest nobility. Lana grew up being called soulless, a doll who waited the day when her life and all she had learned would be passed on to the noble's heir. She had accepted this, but then Lana and Sierra did what was forbidden. They became friends.
Time in those days passed unnoticed. Lana and Sierra learned together, and while Lana went down the track fo the Dinor'afiel, Sierra found a different path. The path of the Leh'anafel, the Singers. For a long, long time it seemed as if their days together would never end, and Lana was happy. Yet as all things must the time came for the end. Lana at this time had earned many names, enough that those who knew her were truly saddened to see her sacrificed, but this was the way of the Hytori. Lana had accepted it and was content, yet Sierra was not. During the course of the Archmagic ritual that would have the two halves become whole something went wrong. As the swirling energies swept through them Lana was thrust into the Aetherium, where her mind and body experienced the vastness of reality that spread too far for mortals to comprehend. It was beautiful, it was amazing, and it seared her very soul. When the ritual completed there were none left. Lana found herself changed, her body able to shift and change from corporeal to ethereal. And Sierra? She was gone.
The ritual in part had worked, but it was not Lana who had been sacrificed, but instead Sierra. For this crime, Lana and her bloodline were stricken from the hall of records. Her names were taken from her, and she was given a new name. Lyrielle, grieved for the loss of her friend, and furious at the treatment of the nobility, vowed an oath of vengeance. Over the years the effects of the ritual took their toll, and where once she was a woman with purpose, Lyrielle found her mind beginning to fray, and with it her grasp of who and what she was. This lasted for centuries until Lyrielle became more a leged, a phantom that haunted the dreams of bad children, a whisper of madness in the darkness that brought upheaval wherever she went. Eventually, she was all but forgotten, and she barely remembered herself.
This was how Shaeoth found her. When he found Lyrielle she was more a force of nature than a thinking creature, but he was able to pull her mind together just enough to claim an oath. He marked her, and with that brand Lyrielle found her mind beginning to reform. She arose from the depths of Sol'valen, her power greater than when she last appeared, and she started her dance once more. She wove whispers into the minds of the populace, turned brother against brother, and fed on the discord that her actions sowed in the once-mighty empire. Where Shaeoth directed she went. She laid low kings and queens, became the ever-present shadow that wove into the hearts and minds of Shaeoth's enemies and allies. She turned the loyal into enraptured, the cowardly into fearless soldiers, and the bravest soul she took great pleasure in twisting until they fell into the depths of depravity.
Lyrielle was there on that fateful day when Light and Darkness fought. She was the black mist that blanketed the ground of the battlefield, and she bore witness to the death of Arcas and the hope he represented. In that last moment however the armies of Shaeoth were struck down, and Lyrielle and the rest were captured. Eikaen took her in his palm and shattered her soul, scattering the pieces across Ransera and sealing what remained inside of a prison that she should never have been able to escape.
In Ash of the year 120, her freedom came at last. She has since made her home in Kalzasi, and seeks a way to restore herself to her formal whole state. What that will entail is yet to be seen.
