Zaphira
Contents
Zaphira of Wolvenfang, Goldenvale
Biography:
Turbulent winds ripped though the windows making the drapes dance in the torment of the wicked storm happening just outside. A shattered heart, the element almost serving as the rage of the battle that often replayed through her mind. She tried to separate herself from not being able to measure up to the expectations of her espoused and clan leader Xeron and trying to find a way of just being herself. She yearned to feel happiness and to obtain the strength to stand steadily on her own two feet.
Locked in an unhappy marriage, Zaphira would try to find refuge in the comfort of her old giant tree hut. She lay nestled alone in her bed, dreaming of a time when life was much simpler, and was not filled with judgement and pain. She wished to be accepted and loved for who she truly was. She longed to feel the gentle touch of a fae who would simply just hold her hand, kiss her sweetly and who would enjoy with her the simple things in life and the beauties of nature.
Xeron was initially charming in the earlier days of their union, but now was mostly controlling, and would often say things that would hurt her. He was now the head of their clan, taking her father’s place after his death. He was very flirtatious with all the other female fae of the Farendale, often making Zaphira feel worthless.
Zaphira, a light fae of brilliant colour, and medium stature, found herself torn by the torment of yet another day ahead, but knew she couldn’t let the battle of the demons in her head get the best of her. On clearer and brighter days, she loved the way the sunlight danced through the open window and ancient growth cracks of the old tree and she would dance or create beautiful artworks. Escaping in the beat and the rhythm of the music or the creations of her artwork, she felt like she could escape her bleak reality and find some happiness in herself. Trying to find the confidence and self-esteem she knew she needed for herself.
Observing the twinkle of the stars overhead in the onyx night sky and the shimmer of the moonlight in the water. She noted in the not so far distance the glimmer of a magical doorway. She heard of these rare fractures that occur leading to new lands, she also knew that they were unstable if you did not possess great magic. She knew that in this moment she could escape her world entirely with little chance of being followed, for this doorway would surely close quickly. Packing a small bag of belongings that lay about the hut. It was in this moment that she realized that choosing to leave was a choice of self preservation for slowly her inner light had been burning low and though this decision was hasted by the circumstances, she suddenly felt a fire ignite within her. She jumped from the tree leaving on the table the ring that bound her to this life and made her way to the doorway. As she approached the portal she could feel the cold air and see the snow wiping through the opening. This made her question her decision, even if just for a moment, it was at this moment that the wind suddenly pushed her from behind encouragingly and through the portal she went, as if following the encouragement of an old friend. The land was white, snow and ice everywhere. She pulled her red cloak from her bag and fastened it tightly around her. This is where she would start anew and there was no one to stop her. That is until she saw hoards of undead making their way towards what looked like a Dutchy.
