Maera Rahaleigh
Profile
Basic Information
Name:
Maera Rahaleigh
Nickname(s):
Mae
Age:
24
Birth Date:
6th Thawing, 8271 [Pristis the Leviathan]
Height:
5'0"
Gender:
Female
Race:
Half Elf
Class:
Wizard
Occupation:
Bloodwatch Battlemage
Guild(s):
Bloodwatch, Quartzleaf Library, North Library
Enhancement(s):
Elves' Mindspeak
Ochi Simera Aurea
Atros' Favour
Likes
Spicy food, functional fashion, staves, cooking, dancing, cafes, cozy nooks to read in
Dislikes
Rain, cold, swimming, needing to sleep, tourists, the Rahaleighs, carrots
Personality
Proud | Focused | Headstrong | Reflective | Loyal | Tenacious | Inquisitive
The grueling struggle for survival against the bloodlust of Wispwood has forced Mae to grow up quickly over the past year. She has learned well the ways of Iadlain, given her heart to the oddly charming city and its even odder people. She cares fiercely for the few survivors who took refuge in her library, beneath the shadowy tree that sprung from the seed she planted; she mourns deeply for all they have lost. She would do anything to preserve this haven just a little while longer.
With unyielding determination fueled by quiet rage, Mae has donned the mantle of responsibility for helping to safeguard what remains of her home - a role she takes very seriously. Inexperienced as she is in any and all ways of leadership, she defers respectfully to Ana o Faolain and the red judges. She works cooperatively with them, keeping her mystical pet projects to herself. As such, her priorities and those of the new leadership do not always align. She jumps at any chance she gets to act upon her priorities both with urgency and certainty, pausing only to reflect on the consequences afterwards; but as long as the sacrifice was worth the success, then from her perspective price was justified. She is still subject to the vices of her own impulsivity and bull-headed stubbornness. To her mistakes, she owns up honestly. For her successes, she accepts no accolades. Though she understands her own value - to the survivors and to her loved ones - she is still learning that she sets an example for those around her, and how important the outward presentation of unified leadership is.
History
In the golden sands of the Vetmia, Mae was a child who knew only love and joy.
Her mother called her the smallest, fiercest firestorm in the desert. Its brightest jewel, its most beautiful flower. She was the youngest, and she was spoiled as such. She was insatiably curious and often made a general nuisance of herself. She poked her nose endlessly into her mother's artificing. She scattered her father's meticulously organized ledgers in her attempts to understand them. She snuck out and followed her brother on his excursions for precious minerals.
She got lost.
In the scorching sands of the Vetmia, Mae learned fear. She was happened upon by a group of bandits as her mother and brother rushed to her rescue. "Run, Maera! Run and don't look back!" Her tiny feet pounded the sand as she fled. They were right behind her, they were right there...!
In the bloodstained sands of the Vetmia, Mae learned loss, grief, despair. Though she escaped, her mother fell first and did not rise - her brother shortly after. She lost her father to his grief, unable to look at his surviving child because she resembled her mother so. Then she lost her home, as he moved them to Iadlain to be closer to his famiy in Reluir. Guilt still snaps at her heels and haunts long-forgotten nightmares; she wonders if maybe it always will.
In the mists of Iadlain - colder, darker, wetter than the great Vetmia desert - Mae learned how to ask for help.
The people of Iadlain were good to her, though a little wary. They paid little mind to the stray child in their shadows, and through them she learned prudence, loyalty, and strength. She learned how to survive the regular haunts of the town, and found family among Iadlain's vast collection of tomes. Tutored through the library's apprenticeship program, she learned how to wield the magic her mother had passed to her. She grew up under grey skies and icy rain, and it did not douse the fire in her heart.
In the frigid mists of Iadlain, Mae laid the past to rest so she could turn her sights on a new future.
Current Story
The war began. In the bloodlust of Wispwood, Mae learned fury and violence.
She had known the world was vast - that was a given. But never before had she considered such differences in culture and ideals would breed bloodshed, hatred and death. Only mortal, Mae too fell into this pitfall, this common vice of humanity. She hunted Relans through the streets of her new home; how dare they come here? How dare they show their faces trying to take her home and kill her people? She watched dispassionately as a mob executed an injured, defenseless soldier who was begging for mercy, begging to return to his family.
She hears his cries still sometimes, and she squashes even the idea of guilt. Reluir tried more than once to snuff out the Iadlish resistance. They even ventured as far as to crack the very land open, summoning a creature of unprecedented power. For reasons unknown the creature remained incomplete, though it introduced a brand new horror to the haunted woods of her home - the scáth reoite, the wraiths.
In the darkness of Wispwood, Mae felt death claim her for the first time.
It was for but a moment. In a starry dream, barely remembered, she met something. She met Nothing. She breathed life again, and she woke up. She couldn't comprehend it; for the first time in her life, she saw for herself the world's mysteries that defied understanding. She threw her all into deciphering them. She turned to old records, historical texts, biographies of the great and influential figures of Iadlain. She even turned to old fairytale anthologies when all else ran dry. The eldest bloodlines of this town hid secrets, this she knew. Never had she been so infatuated with uncovering them.
But hard times wrought tragedy and the focus of her research was cut short. Mae is no stranger to loss, but never did she think she would live to see the day the border charms failed. They had kept Wispwood at bay for longer than the city itself remembers, and the forest was ravenous in its reclamation. With her expertise in wielding fire, Mae was anathema to the essence of Wispwood. One it tried very hard to remove.
Mae felt death claim her a second time.
With a little faith and a lot of luck, Mae plunged headfirst into the mysteries of an ancient and forgotten fairytale. She met the nameless creature once more in a dream and begged for the salvation of her home. Bestowed upon her was the seed of a ghostly tree, and the monsters that flooded the streets dared not venture under its shadowy boughs. Iadlain had a safe haven, for now. The Gods walked the world once more, leaving destruction in their wake as they marched off to wage a war of the divines. A war that would end the world.
"No places can stay forever. But I will give you a little more time."
The Gods were not her most immediate problem. After the fall, Mae busied herself by using any skill she has that may be of use; she mended clothes, she made fire-charms for scouting parties, she carved pathways to and from other library strongholds in the city. She focused on what it would take to survive and weather this storm until they could salvage what was left of the city. Forgotten were her ambitions into the ancient mysteries of Wispwood. Forgotten, until she fell into long and fateful slumber. She felt the chilling presence of Atros in her dreams, and when she awoke, He was still there.
She also found herself wandering into the slumbering minds of others, all of whom were shrouded in His blessings. The Nothing, the shadowy tree, the nature of the haunts of Wispwood, and Atros himself. There was a pattern to it all, a silvery thread of fate that connected all of them, but she couldn't see what it meant. She called upon the presence of the Blessed that dwelled in her dreams, summoning them to her safe haven. Perhaps, if they could find the nameless creature that had spared her from death twice before, they could begin to piece the mystery together and reveal a path to salvation.
The fated finally arrived after a harrowing trek through Wispwood. Owain Shiansach and Isobel Blarach. Mae's kin in Atros' blessing. Plus an unlikely third who had stubbornly followed them all the way from Reluir, Bel's childhood friend Naoise. They four prepared thoroughly and set out to search the woods cast in unyielding midnight with their hopes high.
Additional Info
Relations
Ruari Peshíghfhco
She once found their lackadaisical attitude and natural charisma baffling, a stark juxtaposition to grim, grey Iadlain. Recently, she made the shocking discovery that they are related (not by blood, but through mutual family) and her attitude towards them has shifted significantly. She has always admired how candid they have been with themselves.
