Anira & Hérion
Mar 3, 2013 1:57:34 GMT -5
Post by ᗩпїra on Mar 3, 2013 1:57:34 GMT -5
Anira
(Ah-neer-ah) {meaning 'Desired'}
Other name: Shur'tugal in the Ancient Language, or Argetlam meaning Silver Hand
Theme song: Powerless by Linkin Park 12 {Idea from Nandon}
Race: Elf
Side: Hasn't chosen/Newly assigned Rider
Birthplace: Du Weldenvarden, Ellesmara
Age: Quite young, only about 60-70. Considers herself older
Gender: Female
Birthday: December 31st
Eyes: Anira was often compared to have inherited the eyes of an ancient girl by the name of Elva. The elf never seemed concerned of the comparison though she never had the honor to meet the child herself. Ah, her eyes held a quite ferocity that most elves had. A knowing, or comprehension of the world that grew and sustained itself through their incredible magic and skill. At the day of her birth, her eyes took on a ghostly type of royal blue that hinted signs of fading to violet. Strangely enough, her eyes are now a strange silver lined with an ebony ring around the pupil. The depth of the obsidian further outlined her pupil and makes it stand out like an odd island in a sea of crystal constructed with precise care and time. It's said that they changed when she made first contact with her beloved Hérion. Lining her eyes are incredibly long eyelashes, matched with thin and inquisitive eyebrows to match. Her eyes also incredibly match those of a cat, slanted and always holding a certain secret.
Hair: Like most elves, her hair is a deep ebony that matches that of a raven's wing that goes down to the middle of her back. It contains no curls, only a straight path with the only disturbance being her ears projecting out from the sides of her head. Though like her eyes, it took on an almost purplish effect after her connection with Hérion was sustained followed by the icy effects of becoming a rider. The satin-like texture felt similar to velvet or silk, refraining around her angular chin and high cheek muscles.
Weight: Very thin and lithe, only about 100 pounds
Height: Quite tall, though slightly shorter than most at 5'9
Magic User: Yes, she learned quite a lot of magic usage from those around her and even visited Oromis on occasion before he died.
Preferred Weapon(s): Anira has an assortment of enchanted dangers within the fabric belt around her waist, though she prefers to be a master of the sword. Her own sword, Orchid, was constructed of the same material used to make rider's swords. Rhunon refused to tell what it was constructed of, but Anira could tell that the blacksmith was proud of her recent make. The blade was completely violet, almost the same color of an amethyst. Along the hilt, entwined velvet and gold threaded together to encase a gem that was filled with magical power from years of magic being flowed through it each day. It wasn't just a show of the magnificent beauty of the construction; it was a show of the consistency and speed of her adder-like attacks.
Appearance: Along with her flowing ebony hair and ivory optics, Anira was molded with a smooth angular face with a clean and sculpted nose matched along the rims of her high cheekbones. Natural tanned skid gave her a native sight, followed down her length of curves and smooth ridges. Her shoulders were square with a sense of authority, chin held high with an unknown determination about her, suspended through her arms and legs with lean muscles hidden underneath. Though Anira's hands seemed dainty and small, they were just the perfect fit for the hilt of her sword Orchid. Small feet were a peculiar match to the length of her legs, and one might even call her petite.
Personality: Anira had always been a slight loner among the elves, not being of noble birth or positioned in high power left her enough time to train and empower herself. It was her goal to make something of herself, to make others believe that she wasn't just a polite elf with a beautiful appearance like the rest. Learning was her standard point, throwing herself into studies, literature, artwork, and the history of Algaesia. She entrusted herself to learn pottery, basic craftsman ship and blacksmith, but her favorite had to be swordsmanship and magic. Oromis had been glad to teach or a short while until he mysteriously stopped agreeing to see her. Though it pained her to retreat back to her normal routine, Anira threw herself into the joy of sprinting, leaping, sweeping her sword about, dagger throwing, and being a formidable opponent on the practicing fields. During the night, she'd transfer energy into the gem at the pommel of Orchid after practicing different variations of magic for a short time. The training left her a noble stature: loyal, brave, determined, and more or less focused on tasks that are set before her. Love wasn't something she gave a second thought on, considering that there was always very few elven children around and about. If she was to ever take on the responsibility of a love, it couldn't interfere with any of her tasks, challenges, or missions. Ever since Hérion hatched for her, she hadn't thought of the idea any at all, feeling that he was the only she'd ever have a special connection with. Her regal bearing brought her to being polite, able to hold her tongue in tough situations, and a quick thinker and politician.
Likes: training, learning, magic, nature, Hérion (of course), the queen and her dearest friends, mysteries and riddles, reading literature or poetry, the Ancient language of her people, eating only herbs, fruit, vegetables, and spices
Dislikes: rude, evil, or spiteful beings, killers, betrayers, oath-breakers, certain humans with dumb and foul minds, meat, Ra'zac, discreet-like magicians
Strengths: knowledge of magic, swordsmanship, and other valuable qualities, her elven speed, strength, and endurance, her own dragon Hérion, ability to keep secrets, quick wits enabled to conjure up quick solutions, Anira's training of magic, special connection with nature that every elf strove to achieve, and her cool demeanor in the worst situations
Weakness: Her own pride and the mention of her past, the ones closest to her, Hérion himself, lack of proper Rider training, the ability of not giving in, the torture of animals and plants alike, torture with illusions which could break her easily, the uncommonness of elves and riders would make her valuable to being taken advantage of
Family: Zoë x Unknown {both deceased from the war with the Empire}
History: Anira was born on the last day of the year which was a sign of good fortune and opportunity. The celebration lasted for days thereafter, though it was short-lived with the rising attacks of Galbatorix and his troops drawing so near. There was talk of a new rider in the land, giving hope and slight irritation at the fact it might not be an elven rider. Her birth proved uneventful afterwards with her mother to watch over the tiny and warm bundle with the pointed ears seen through her warm wrap. Years seemed to flow by as easily as the Anora River.
Nearing the edge of her teen years which was immensely young, Anira started to visit Oromis and listen him tell tales and fantasies far beyond the land of Du Weldenvarden. Glaedr was always the most kind and gentle, so wise and a force to be reckoned with for his enormous size. The stories left her feeling young and magically, a yearning to explore the world slowly formed her personality into one of an elf. Oromis taught her a few forms of magic, meandering her upwards to larger properties of skills while her native language was easy to pronounce on her tongue. Those were the days to her; spending hours sitting along the log and spreading out her mind to all the wildlife and nature throughout the entire valley. The days seemed to end too soon when Oromis informed her that he could no longer teach her the ways of the old. To her disbelief and disdain, a dragon rider by the name of Eragon took her place which sent rivets of jealousy and slight hurt towards the fact that she couldn't participate herself. That is when she decided entirely on focusing on bettering herself in the studies of the wise by extending her abilities to the maximum.
The next decade was spent waking up each morning and running the length of the valley, dodging throughout the trees and pushing herself further and further on until she'd collapse from her own weight. Once she would do a quick spell to recover her breath, Anira went to her own tree stump that she had discovered and cast out her mind to the wildlife around her and anticipated, learned, focused, and yearned for some of their abilities of strength in numbers, formation, or true love strength for their families. The birds were the ones that interested her the most, taking care of their young with such intent care that couldn't match the skill of any mother in the land. Respect. Plain respect for nature itself. That is when she'd start to talk with them and explaining how her day was going and asking questions about certain problems and situations. Never answered, but she made up small responses that cast a warm glow in her heart.
Finally, the death of Oromis, her mother and father, and many more elves stretched across the land like a thousand suns. The grief had taken a large toll on everyone, including the ones that lost special family members. Anira couldn't help but feel a hint of jealousy against Eragon, since she felt as if she should be assisting to help the young man in his fight against Galbatorix, wishing that she was old enough to be assigned to the Que- the new Queen Ayra and her dragon Fírnen.
She spotted him! Anira silently watched from the shadows of the overcast pines. He was leaving the land, forever. That is when she finally felt that she cared for him. The silent envy had pricked a sign of care into her heart, and she refused to dash up and cast him farewell in front of his brother, Roran, and his wife. Anira knew that he was taking the Eldunari and the remaining dragon eggs, though he left three eggs with Queen Arya. A chance. A chance to finally meet and discover the newest elven riders. Though they weren't for the elves, but for the Urgals and dwarves. One thing was missing though, and little did Eragon and his companions know that one of the eggs had been dropped along the trip. Little did Anira know of it as well, but fate would soon bring the two together.
A strange, rushing sensation sparked the tips of her fingers and to the core of her heart as she gently touched the tip of the beautiful violet dragon hatchling that had scrambled into her lap with a comforting hum. That's when the transformation happened through Anira. The flowing ebony hair lightened into a similar wave of grape-like sensation while he eyes locked upon Hérions enchanting gaze. Never would she be the same.
Secret, upon secrets built up around her. Hérion had to be kept a secret for more reasons than one. What if Galbatorix or the Varden found out? Would she have to choose sides? The questions that raged through her mind overwhelmed her, and the only thing she concluded was to leaving Du Weldenvarden to raise Hérion till he was older. Packing up the rest of her little belongings, including her resourceful sword Orchid and her enchanted daggers that could slice through any material because of the diamond quality. The decision was made, and nothing was about to change her mind.
Hérion and Anira established and started to strengthen their bond along the journies down the Agaena River. She had decided that the Eldor lake would prove the safest (and the closest) place to raise Hérion for the time being. Oh, how she loved him! He was like her opposite. Open, hilarious, cocky, and as loving as ever. Opposites attracted between the two, especially with her self-mannered and quiet opposition. She was persistent that she could live forever without any strains or doubts with him by her side. A true bond of friendship, love, and companionship. Together the two of them started learning, sharing their experiences, and gaining experience along the banks of the Eldor. Though the two of them were both still young, their bond established quickly and soon they could remain contact for miles around though it unnerved the two to be away from each other for long. The two are still hidden, though no one can be for sure how long the secret may last.
Hérion
(Hair-ee-on) {meaning 'Chief'}
Age: About 8 months
Physical description: Deep-set violet scales rivet down and encompass most of his body, followed by lighter ivory striped along his neck, belly, wings, and part of the tail. Thick horns spring out from back of his head down the nape and onward to the hollow of his back where Anira seats herself comfortably. He uncommonly has thicker scales than most along his belly, a thick layer of scales flowing down from his chin to the tip of his tail which outspread to small scales. The wings are much like a bats, the thick carapace leathery and smooth to the touch.Thick hind legs allow him to take off at a quick pace, though his forearms are quite long. His lithe form and coloration resembled Anira in more ways than way, and it was easy for him to maneuver in even the most complicated flight patterns. As always, a dragon's claws and teeth are razor sharp and usual long. Hérion is off to a good start, though he's slightly smaller for ones his age.
Where they hatched: Found in the wild near the outskirts of Du Weldenvarden
Personality: Hérion was fun-loving and very carefree, and even quite funny at times. He always found a way to turn around a difficult situation with a measly joke that gave others a humorous determination. Opposite of Anira was what the two called it, though to two fit together like a key to a lock. Hérion was also very intelligent, loving the ability to learn with as much determination as Anira. The two would often have little matches against each other, testing the abilities of one or the other. Of course, Hérion was sure to grow too large to participate in most as he got older. The beautiful male understood and appreciates the standards Anira went to avoid him from getting harmed, though he was confident he could dethrone the king once her learned to breathe fire. He could feel it was close, he could feel the fire burning inside of him, and yet he could only feel the soft smolder of smoke puffing from his nostrils. He'd find his fire soon enough. Hérion cared of nothing more than Anira, loving her as constant companions and admiring each other for each skill. Anira rode him without saddle, which often left her bruised and bloodied, but she insisted with bravery and even yelled in encouragement when he performed difficult spirals and downward dives. Though he truly didn't understand how dangerous the world was at the time, no matter how much Anira explained to him each night after Hérion hunted for the two.
Password: Witch of Teirm
Other: Did I miss anything? This took me forever to type up. Haha. I just finished reading the last book of the Eragon series and got completely addicted. Who am I to blame? The books are too amazing!
Wasn't sure if I was to post it in to apply to a Rider or here.
