Legends of Belariath

Allivia

Her oldest memories were happy ones, a loving family in a friendly village with a bright future ahead of her. That future would not come to pass but that wasn't what bothered her so much as the reason why it all seemed to collapse so suddenly, an answer that to this day she had only vague suspicions about but was sure that the answer had something to do with those five little words she had heard her parents speak in hushed tones, "The clan before all else."

These words carried no meaning to her at the time, as a child of a gentle torian male and a powerful human female raised almost solely around humans they were but a simple phrase that meant nothing in particular. Her father as she remembered him was a tall striking white wing with dark yet warm eyes, a healer by trade and by passion who seemed to take the pains of others as if they affected him personally. A kind man, one that none could ever hold issue against. Beloved by all the townsfolk as well as many who traveled through yet as she would soon discover not so highly regarded by the clan from which he had once belonged. She didn't understand then and to this day she couldn't do much more than guess at the reasons but one fateful night he slipped into her room to say goodbye. Where was he going so very late in the night she would ask and why did he seem to look so sad? But no answer was given, she was told to remain in bed and return to her dreams but her inquisitive nature simply wouldn't abide, sneaking from her room just in time to see two full blooded torians escort him away never again to return. To see other winged beings like herself first struck her with curiosity, surely he would be helping somebody very important, but the expression her mother wore told a different tale. She cried, she screamed, she begged to know why.. why did he have to leave them but her mother offered only one simple reply, the clan before all else.

Humans are a fickle people she would learn. Her mother was a devout cleric of the Goddess Ishtar, the religious center of the small village in which they lived. Stern yet kind, not just to her but to all that sought her help and advice. Her parents together were in many ways the center of that town, there for good times and bad always willing to lend whatever aid might have been necessary their only reward being the sweat from their brow. But as hurt and distraught as her father's sudden departure had made her it utterly devastated her mother. The light in her eyes and that loving caring spirit were gone to be replaced with a hollowed core, and along with it her faith. How do you praise a God or Goddess that seems to have for some reason forsaken you? The favor of the townsfolk vanished all but instantly, all the many kindnesses she and her mate had granted the town forgotten the moment her perceived value had left her. The next year a drought took hold of the village severely diminishing that season's harvest, a random chance of fate to any with reason but in their panic it seemed so much easier to blame her mother, surely it was her lack of devotion that caused the Gods to turned their back on the people.

And so they were exiled, forced from what was left of their home to wander the lands only with what they could carry on their backs. If life had been difficult before now it was truly a struggle merely to survive, striving toiling and even begging simply for enough to eat and on lucky nights perhaps a bed in which to sleep. More often than not even these small goals went unrealized, her mother tried to hide the true extent of their situation but even at that young age it was clear that while she herself went hungry her mother bore the brunt of the hardships, on the very brink of starvation to try and make sure that her daughter was fed as well as she could possibly manage. She'd never know how far her mother went to ensure their survival and her own health, she tries not to think on it much, but looking back she can begrudgingly understand why the next decision must have seemed the only feasible option available to her though she'd do anything that she could to change the past were she able.. for that was when she was placed in the care of a nearby monastery, an orphan never to see the one who loved her so much again even to this day.

Looking back it could have been much worse, now that she understands how the world truly works she might even say that she was lucky. They may not have loved her like her parents had but they did care for her, perhaps she felt lonely and unimportant but at the very least she was safe and for the first time in a long while well fed. At first her primary responsibility was to ensure the monk's glasses were always filled with the many varieties of wine they so loved to imbibe, a bartender of sorts before she herself had ever tasted a drink, but the group's healer saw something in her. Perhaps it was a gift from her father but it was clear to the man that she had a natural talent in the healing arts, something in her touch that was gentle or something in her outlook that was caring. He taught her the basics, the proper way to apply a bandage how to set bones and create a makeshift splint when necessary, even how to read and write so that she might learn more at a faster pace. She liked him and despite his gruff attitude she was certain that the feeling was mutual, it must have been to spend so much time and effort to teach a young girl all that he knew. In time she would eclipse his skill and though he'd never have said it aloud he was proud of her, and she was grateful to have a way to help others as she herself had been looked after. She stayed for a few years past the age in which children usually left the orphanage, finally more of a boon than a burden, but soon the day would come when it was time for her to to leave.. to find her own future, build her own life, and to develop her talent and skills past that which these men would be able to teach.

Despite all that she had learned it was still a complete shock to her the first time she felt the rush of magical energies flow through her, she'd read of such things of course but had not realized she herself had the talent until the day she held a dying child in her arms.. the power of her hope enough to bring him back from the clutches of death. It was a small thing, less a spell and more of a spark, but it meant the world both to her and to the child's parents. She knew then what she must do, what she had to dedicate the rest of her life to discovering and harnessing. Few in those parts of the lands had true knowledge of proper magic and so she had little choice but to venture to Nanthalion, a proper town which she had heard carried many dangers and opportunities. A place where she could build upon all that she had learned and the innate talent inside of her, and if she managed to survive long enough to one day become a true healer as her father had been.

And so after many days of travel she arrived at the steps of the Lonely Inn, she didn't sleep that first night her mind filled with questions her thoughts absorbed in the many possibilities waiting for her. Would she find one who could instruct her further? Would she be able to fulfill the meager dreams she had for herself? Would she ever discover the truth of what had happened to her father and what fates had befallen her mother? She couldn't say, but the sun was already rising and though she ought to have slept she was simply too excited to do so.. instead making her way to the inn's common room eager to unearth the paths forward that awaited her.

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