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Malatia Kl'evbeir<br/>
Nickname: Atia<br/>
Gender: Female<br/>
Species: Human<br/>
Age: 24 years<br/>
Sexuality:Heterosexual<br/>
Social Status: Royalty<br/>
Kingdom: Palavei<br/>
Occupation: Oracle<br/>
Skills: Prophecy, Summoner, Empathy, sword master<br/>
<br/>
Atia is a summoner priestess that can not only speak to the gods and be a vessel of power, but she can summon fantastical creatures, and wield dual swords when a fight is forced into her path. She is twin sister to a fierce king that rules the kingdom justly, but gambles the stability of the people with a quest for power and more lands. A good man, though a bit greedy and maybe paranoid, rightfully so. There are whispers of war. Literal whispers of war and despair from a foul wind settling among the people randomly. It is a dark power oppressing the minds little by little and they are powerless against this unseen foe. Or are they?<br/>
<br/>
Not many know the king has a twin or a sibling at all for that matter. Atia bore the mark of the oracle and was quickly put into seclusion, eventually being sent away at the age of nine to the Plains of Arnir, to be raise in seclusion by those who could suppress her abilities. An oracle is no longer the respected position it had been centuries ago. In generations past, when an enemy crossed the southern mountain waging a war, it was quickly observed they were a people equally matched. The king at the time, forced the oracle to summon beast after beast to add to the ranks of his army. The war was won but at the cost of his name. After a similitude of peace was restored, the people turned on him and considered him a vile heretic saying nothing when he retreated in self exile to the mountains. It is said he died, the long life of oracles cut short by his perceived sins. The people rewrote history to cover their own sins. The gods were set at a distance from them and worship was more of a tradition. Magic was shunned if it went beyond simple healing, and was something to be feared if not enforced by the those in high position employed by the king.<br/>
<br/>
The temple of Arnir is a haven to Atia, the oracle. They did not suppress her abilities, they secretly taught her, trained her to open herself to the gods and visions provided to her. She was to embrace the gods, magic, strange races of the people just over their country's borders.</div>
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</div><br/><br/><i>Strong arms folded around her, ending the flash of pain from the flames that consumed what was once the caravan's finest carriage. It wasn't fancy or ornate, that would have defeated the purpose, but it was sturdy, bound by magic, but nothing could stop the fire. These flames were not of this world.  Smoke had filled her lungs, but she buried her face in the soft warmth around her. The musky scent of the sweaty male body mixed with the tang of blood filled her senses.  The amount of fur should have confused her, but it was heaven to Atia.  She choked off muffled sobs and clung to her savior, not caring that it hindered her breathing just as much as the smoke.<br/>
<br/>
"Take her to the temple! Quickly with you now!" The familiar voice pierced the despair and she jerked her head up shouting with a scratchy voice at the one who instructed her rescuer.  "Tilli!"  Jerky movements told her the male that carried her was fighting as well.  She screamed again as he avoided a blow to them both then reached for her friend.  "Tillien, no! Come with me!"<br/>
<br/>
The guard did not answer her with words.  The knowing little smile he gifted her sent chills down her spine as she looked at the fighting that raged around them. The flames and fatigue stung her eyes and blurred her vision, but it seemed as though man and beasts of all kinds fought the dead.  The nine year old child saw an army of bones covered in black rags.  A sight that made her soul coil, yet anger quickly conquered fear and she screamed again, the authority behind it lifting above the den that surrounded her. "Stop it! Go back where you belong!"  The flames rose high, devouring the nearest foes instantly, but taking the foliage and grazing Tillien as well. The guard struggled in the grips of creatures of bones as was turned to flame and ash.  The trees burst into flames aglow with an oddly red light, but suddenly the arm around her gripped tightly and masked her eyes from the carnage.  A soft rumble of words came from him falling to her ears, soothing yet unintelligible at the time, slowly lulling her into a darker place. Then another voice spoke. An eerie neutral that pressed upon her mind.<br/>
<br/>
"Release me."</i><br/><br/><br/>Atia rose slowly from slumber, lifting up on an elbow and swinging a leg to the ground.  Never one to spring from bed unless there was a hint of danger, she tried with little luck to hold the scene in her mind, stretching out an arm as if still reaching for the guard.  It had been a while since that dream had come to her, but the brief voice at the end was not part of that dream.  Not completely.  Her booted foot touched the carpet beneath the cot and she shook her head, wondering why they insisted on such luxury at a quick camp.  The others in the small lead party slept on blankets on the ground while she was on a cot under a lean to.  They tried hard not to spoil her, but insisted on providing the Oracle with this minimum amount of comfort, so as to not bring her name or the temple of Arnir to shame.  They meant well and at times she obliged them.<br/><br/>After belting on her blades and lifting the hood over her head of shoulder length locks, she left the shelter  and  approached the guard stationed nearby. Had she not had the voice speak to her, she would have thought it coincidence that the old warrior stood there. Instead she sided up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  "It's time old man."<br/><br/>"Don't old man me, child. I might cave to it and start passing out on duty. Let the night ghouls take you." he teased.  Tillien was old, but a dangerous one to tangle with.  A priest, but still a warrior that had been with her for as far back as she cared to remember.<br/><br/>"I see where your loyalties lie.  Like I don't know you do just that all the time. It's a wonder I get any sleep.  Fighting ghouls and dilly dallying with bored demigods..."<br/><br/>The gray haired man bellowed a sharp laugh, rousing those who hadn't already heard their exchange.  They spoke like father and daughter, the age difference was about right and for all intents and purposes he was a kind of father to her, more than her own was able...<br/><br/>He sobered up when she leaned her head on his shoulder.  It had been many moons since she has done that and it prompted him to tilt down to place a kiss on the top of her head.<br/><br/>"It's time." she sighed, then added,  "We must reach the northern ridge before sunrise. I don't think they can hold till day break."<br/><br/>"Aye." he whispered back, affected by the weight of her words.  He knew not which tribe in particular she spoke of, but could guess.  There was only one she would pick up and  go to arms for without a call for help.  She didn't need a call to know when she should intervene.<br/><br/>The tribes of Arnir had been quietly protecting the borders of Palavei for almost a year now. Not as an ally in the true sense of the term, but in defense of their own land, which lay between Palavei and the raids that pour from the forsaken dessert beyond. All nine of the major tribes had sent warriors and magic bearers of all kind, but nothing seemed to stop the slow breach of land. This day had been shown to her with more certainty she felt comfortable with.  Normally a version of events was presented to her in several forms, but only one solid vision filled her thoughts increasingly over the period of one year.  The mind numbing evil would break through, one tribe would fall and Tillian would die.<br/><br/>Atia had not shared any of this to the temple guard, but they knew she acted on the voices from the gods and would follow her to their death. It would come to that for some.<br/><br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="91" data-username="@Wren" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/91/">@Wren</a>