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Merenwen Ilim
0 Posts Created May 10, 2018, 07:54 PM
48 Years Female
3' 5" Slave
White Hair Ice Blue Eyes
House Essair Unknown
No Last Post Written by andromeda
No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it.
By now, Merenwen has forgotten the name the Dalmascans gave her. Her small village in Galace, often, was pressured by the Dalmascan military, and in effort of keeping them from plundering, offered handfuls of young ilim as tribute slaves. At first, Merenwen was upset she was in the cluster, once, when she was nine, but she's long given up holding onto bitterness. It serves her none, and, neither did she think it was a terrible thing, until it happened to her. True it is, it still remains terrible, but it is a kind of necessity, and she recognises this, now.

She'd been through abuse at the hands of several houses, over the following years. Merenwen never did try and overstep her bounds, kept her head down, and conveniently forgot to tell most of her masters she could heal decently well. The girl had been trained for it at a young age, as everyone always needs healers, and while her affinity, earth, does not lend to healing immediately, she learned to do it, over time. It was a matter of arranging the sorcery formations properly, and she learned through trial and error.

In time, she came to House Essair. As she was a girl, the master of the house mostly left her alone, as it turns out he was quite gay. His wife, on the other hand, often complained in her presence. When, later, the lady of the house fell pregnant, Merenwen sensed... something. Even a mere unborn babe, and the child was already storing heavy amounts of aura. And, when he was born, Merenwen helped with the delivery, and the house shook, glasses falling off the table, the sunlight filtering in the window becoming brighter, and seeming to cradle the boy as he was born into the world. Merenwen didn't know, at the time, what to think of that, except that, he was destined for great things. Perhaps unfortunate, but great nonetheless.

His mother, the lady Ksenia, on the other hand, steadily became more and more terrified of him, and Merenwen began to step in to care for him where she, clearly, would not. His father wasn't concerned with him until he became older, and, as far as Merenwen is concerned, Kassandros' father forced him into the public limelight far, far too early, but no one had been asking her, now had they. When he needed to start learning more precise aura arts, Merenwen was there. When his sorcery backfired on him the first time, near blew his hand off, Merenwen was there. When his father decided he was a disappointment to the name Essair and yelled at him for five hours, Merenwen was there. And when Ksenia left the house, and never came back, Merenwen was there.

She isn't sure she's ever made a difference, but, Kassandros insisted on calling her by her name (her real name), which he knew without her ever uttering a word. Merenwen's used to that, now. Kassandros is never surprised, and he knows too much. But it is a heavy, painful burden to bear, for one so young, and it breaks her heart he's had to. That fate has thrown him into the rapids without a paddle, or a canoe, even. As always, Merenwen is there. But all she can do is be there, and hope that, when he needs it, he'll turn to her.

After his father's death two years ago, Kassandros seemed to have changed, a little. There was more urgency in the way he carried out seemingly every-day things, and he pushed his way into the warlord caste, and then started going up the ladder. Merenwen's not sure what for, it seems an odd goal, as, she's fairly certain she knows what he was born for. She waits, until the time he'll tell her, either with words or otherwise. She keeps his criminal syndicate in tip-top shape, enjoying helping others, and acts as something of a head slave, directing the others and keeping the house in order around him. It is, at least, one burden she can take from his shoulders.