Eléyr Fásamár ~ Kaýrrhem ~ Mindsmoother & Compendiumist

Name~ Eleyr Fásamár

Occupation~ Mindsmoother, Compendiumist

Gender~ Male

Age~ 200 years

Appearance Age~ 25 years

Knowledge Age~ 30 years

Approximate Lifespan~ 700 years

Height~ 1 ped, 9 palmspans

Weight~ 125 od

Eye Color~ Opal Blue

Hair Color~ Lyth'be Pollen

Race~ Elf

Tribe~ Kaýrrhem

Title~ Serenity's Embodiment

Description

When lounging about his luxurious gardens, or dining upon whatever delicacy it is he desires, sheer beauty, perfected posture, and a carefully trained composure mingle to portray Eleyr as a living, breathing work of art. Having donned his finest regalia, one could imagine his breathtaking form eliciting envy or admiration from even the mightiest of nobles. While a first glance from the elf could appear condescending, as his eyes train upon those around them, it is rare that they do not feel a strange sense of security. Although his appearance is assuredly breathtaking, the indescribable relaxation one may feel in his presence generally garners more attention. Few can resist the gentle prod of his will, some even experiencing a voice in their head asking them to silently abandon their defenses.

Ascending from supple shoulders, an elegantly long neck acts as the perfect pedestal for the Kayr's finely chiseled visage. His cheekbones rest at a precarious loft, then angle sharply into a curved decline. The pattern continues on into the dainty point of his chin. The crowning spectacle of his delicate face are two foggy blue eyes. Though almost an oval, they end into sharp points on either side, the one nearest his nose tilted downwards, while the point on the outside leans up. A frame of long, wispy lashes accentuate the tranquil depths of these blue pools. Just above these cerulean centerpieces, the slender curve of his brow forms a high angle, as if Eleyr were constantly a bit skeptical about his surroundings.

His nose begins with a slender bridge, descending to a delicate point. Just below, effulgent incisors are hidden behind a pair of slim, light pink lips. It is a near guarantee that the teeth which they often shroud are flawless. It is said that the elf's pristine grin can illuminate a room like the Injerá peering over the horizon. His meals frequently conclude with compulsory care, maintaining the teeth's perfect color. Eleyr obtains an odd, pasty substance from a gnome whose inventions he occasionally sponsors. Although he was originally skeptical about a magic paste for a more brilliant smile, he began ordering the stuff en masse after success with his sample, and it is clearly evident when he blesses those around him with a beam.

His entire body is a vision of supple splendor, with impossibly slender limbs. His lean biceps are about the size of the average man's wrist; his thighs do not touch each other even when his knees are together. His petite form is contrasted and completely obscured by the voluminous robes that adorn it, the waves and ripples of fabric immersing him. The cascade of cloth ends about the ground, generally preventing his toes, whether covered by sandals or barefoot, from being seen. The color scheme of his attire is that of the Murmillions, with the body of the fabric being laid out in abyssal blues or deep, murky burgundies, with accents in a lighter color. This embroidery about the hem and ends of the sleeves are most often in light grey or other pastel hues.

Although the above attire makes up the content of his ordinary wardrobe, his morning rituals of praying to Eyasha require an entirely different garb. Although the profuse amount of fabric translates into his religious garments, their coloring becomes a pure, pristine white, the holy shade of the Goddess of Peace. Unlike the denser, heavy fabric of his regular clothing, these religious robes are made from freshly woven spilk, the material remaining gossamer, smooth, and flimsy about his lissome body. Feathers from Eleyr's own dove bedeck the robes, hanging from the ends of the sleeves, and at the bottom of the hem. In addition, the profusion of fabric has been soaked in Trinity juice for many hours, thus making it give off the constant, pungent aroma of the peace inducing herb.

Personality

Some fall instantly in love with the bubbling joy they feel as his gaze softens upon them, others find his seemingly celestial reach to be disturbing.

Although the wistful elf likes to pretend that he is a multifaceted being, in reality, his life is based solely on an omnipresent worship of the Goddess of Peace, and spreading her healing hand throughout the central continent. Ever since his first encounter with the deity within his dreams, the Mindsmoother has considered it his responsibility to use his gift on all of those who require its serene touch, attempting to 'recreate' the humans of Caelereth as a pacifistic, blithe race. Although it may seem that the slightly arrogant masseuse has to condescend to speak with the common folk, beneath his facade of disdain, he feels a genuine tug to help any in need.

With being an Eyashene, and taking the principles of such a role to an extreme, Eleyr has become an extreme pacifist, and utterly refuses for him to even feel the sensation of anger. He considers the occasional minuscule bouts of frustration to be unholy blights on his pristine soul, and would never act upon these extreme emotions. Despite the elf being whimsy, and appearing perilously frail, his spirit is fierce when kindled by a confrontation to his beliefs. Although he allows others to exchange petty words of offense, the Eyashene would certainly attempt to step in should they threaten to hurt one another. In addition, the consumption of meat is a major desecration, as slaughter of an innocent being was involved in the preparing of the meal.

Although the Mindsmoother takes his gift with great seriousness for the most part, he cannot resist the temptation to play with other people's emotions on occasion. This can give him a definite upper hand in discussions where keeping one's wits about them is essential, and it is all he can do to stifle his impish giggles of delight as he sees the inner struggle play out upon the opposing parties face. The pristine, leisurely elf considers gatherings of such a formal nature to be horribly cumbersome, and feels that his tiny tricks lighten the attitude of the conglomeration, without identifying himself as the cause.

One would expect that any who endeavors to spread the message of peace across the whole of Caelereth would be a pretty tranquil person themselves, but it is actually Eleyr's abilities and financial privileges that prevent him from finding emotional fortitude. Despite years of practicing the art, every Mindsmoother knows that it is literally impossible to completely stifle the flow of foreign emotions that others exude so plainly. The elf can create a slight barrier that blocks out the majority of these feelings, and does so during most occasions, to the point that he can sort of 'select' whose emotions he will allow to briefly flow through his mind.

Regardless, it is not unusual for unwanted trauma to seep through, and this can wreak havoc upon the elf's delicate soul. For such a generous person, Eleyr has experienced untold amounts of emotional catastrophe, yet lives every day behind his facade of rapture. Sampling tastes of fear only helps to resurface dark memories, or to create new ones. In addition, the effect continues to build, as once a bit of emotion has penetrated his attempts at defenses, more and more of his feeble blockade will crumble as the horrors of other's lives brutally maul his tender self.

Although one would think that being laid siege by a pervasive army of invading emotions would leave one at enough of a loss, the elf suffers of another malady, but it is one that he has wrought upon himself by practicing a bit of gluttony. Eleyr's manor in Strata is utterly pristine, with even the most minuscule of imperfections quickly being swept away by those he hires to deal with such things. After being used to such unmarred splendor, journeying away from the precious haven can be horrid for the pampered Eyashene.

In reality, his attachment to his home and all of the expensive objects found within is a near physical addiction, and one that he will never overcome. When on extended excursions from his home, the Mindsmoother will often drive himself insane with longing, having vivid hallucinations of the home he desires so much. Even the prospect of traveling frightens him, though it is indeed his divine responsibility to traverse wherever Eyasha would send him, or so he believes his dreams indicate.

Although the elf is uptight when it comes to his precious belongings, he is rather flippant with his money, and can be more than careless when paying merchants. Eleyr learned when he was but a child that charity was important, as if the Murmillions hadn't allowed them into their city his family would have assuredly starved to death on the bleak peninsula of Ehebion. Therefore, he often gives lavish sums to just about anyone, and worries very little about the loss, as he knows he has plenty more.

The Mindsmoother dominates three industries in the city of Strata, giving him an ever expanding income base. First and foremost, he receives a massive annual retainer from the government in order to heal all citizens free of charge, but charges a bit extra for customers to purchase remedies to take with them. Secondly, he retains knowledge of beekeeping, which he learned from his father, and several hives dot his abundant yard. In addition, his home was built on top of an underground oasis on the outskirts of the city, and he has exactly eighteen wells which constructed upon his land. It is shocking how much people in the desert will pay for the precious resource.

Eleyr grew up on the continent of Nybelmar, and both of his parents had avidly researched the eastern side of the continent, recording all of the information in several large tomes. Occasionally, the elf would be assigned to copy a few documents, or to aid them in scrounging through their profusion of notes, and finally sent all of the books with him when he traveled to the central continent. From numerous readings of these massive books, he has garnered information about all of the various empires and cultures on the continent, and occasionally receives a letter from his mother, keeping him up to date with the activities on the continent.

Strengths

Mindsmoothing~ Most likely Eleyr's strongest forthcoming, his skills as a Mindsmoother can be useful in a plethora of situations. Simply being able to sense others' emotions gives him a definite advantage over most, as none can openly deceive him under his scrutinizing gaze, and it helps him to seek those who would make a good patient. Secondly, he can alter the emotions of anyone, and has found that even those of a strong will surrender beneath his influence. It is shocking how much people will pay for someone to force them to settle down, and the elf has made a regular income from it. In addition, he practices a variety of mundane healing methods to aid his Mindsmoothing, such as massage, herb lore, and general tending of wounds.

Affluence~ Possessing so many coins, and having a steady income base to uphold the lofty standards of wealth, is assuredly helpful, providing financial security for the pristine elf, most likely for the rest of his life. First and foremost, the government of Strata pays him an annual retainer of ten goldbards a year, but he also sells portable remedies, such as bundles of herbs and instructions for use, to his regular customers, so that they can visit him less often, but still find tranquility. Secondly he dominates over two important industries, selling water and honey to the citizens, and relishing in the coins it provides. In addition, the Mindsmoother will occasionally procure an extra tip by submitting entries on the continent of Nybelmar to the compendium, with a page running the completed works to New Santhala.

Literacy~ The ability to read and write is the definition of wealth in Santharian society, as it is a skill that most peasant's simply lack. Without these skills, Eleyr could never have retained the mass of knowledge that he stores, as most of it was garnered through repetitive reads of his voluminous tomes. In addition, he quite enjoys writing submissions for the Santhalan Compendium, and writing has provided a bit of a hobby for him to tinker with when his customers have all visited for the day. Furthermore, it simply helps the elf to feel more fulfilled, as it is a skill which his distant mother taught him, and when one has not seen an acquaintance of such close relation for nigh two century such bonds of talent are not neglected.

Knowledge~ Having garnered most of his vast repertoire of information through repetitive readings of various texts, Eleyr certainly retains a lot of this information. The most detailed subject of his studies would be regarding the ways of life on the continent of Nybelmar, particularly the western half, as he once helped his parents in researching the area, before being shipped off to Sarvonia, bearing the massive tomes that reiterated the information, for him to review. A close second in bulk, his studies of herb lore are indeed extensive as well, with a focus on sedative herbs, due to his responsibilities as a healer lying in relaxing a patient. A variety of other topics fill out his informative arsenal, but their amount of details are dwarfed by the aforementioned subjects.

Lissome & Agile~ Like most elves of his tribe, Eleyr's body is the epitome of supple splendor, being exceedingly flexible. His natural dexterity allows him to make quick and precise movements, and with his refusal to take arms against opponents, swiftly fleeing or making an agile dodge can be essential to his life. The only downfall to this is the possibility that the pacifist will refuse to even run from the opponent, but for the most part he can rely on his flights to evade those who seek to harm him. Although he has had no actual training in contorting his body, he has found that it is possible to bend his lissome form in a variety of ways, though fears to twist it into positions that appear to unnatural.

Weaknesses

Physically Frail~ Eleyr's graceful frame consists of almost no fat, and a minuscule layer of skimpy, yet well defined muscles. Although his swift agility could make him an excellent fighter, should he desire to, he would hardly be able to lift a heavy blade, let alone swing it with some amount of force. In addition, his lack of body fat makes him prone to relentless shivers, and he finds that he gets cold and sick much easier than the average. His weight is far below the acceptable standards, being equivalent to that of a person who was malnourished, and he eats rather leisurely, not necessarily attempting to add more energy to his spindly frame. Even lugging about his various bags is exhausting for the tiny Mindsmoother, making more expensive travel in carriages or boats essential, as he could never walk such long distances.

Pacifist~ Even if the petite elf could garner the strength necessary to protect himself from an adversary, he never would. Being dedicated to the Goddess of Peace, he considers physically harming any living being to be against Her will, and thus must avoid it at all costs. With these principles culminated to an extreme, Eleyr would never seek to protect himself against an attacker, and even running away is a mild taboo. On about half of the occasions, he may attempt to flee the ambush, but on the other half, he would throw his arms open wide, and allow the person to do whatever they intended on him. At such times, Eleyr truly needs to be accompanied by another who would protect him, as his faith blinds him to the value of his own life.

Obsessions~ Having spent many of the last years of his life lounging in an expensive manor, Eleyr can hardly imagine living in a lesser place. As a result, he despises traveling, yet is convinced that Eyasha may beckon him to soothe distant people, though only for a brief time. However, he can be lulled into happiness if he should find a place of near or equal grandeur to his home, but such havens are rare, as little compares to any affluent man's abode. The worst symptom of his obsessions is the hallucinations that come as a result. Although they are less common in nicer places, nowhere except his home provides him complete protection from them. After brewing over his troubles, his body will release himself into a 'dream' where he envisions himself back at his home, without any control of his subconscious body. Spasms and convulsions are not unusual during such times, and the elf has wound his self into a number of predicaments, especially if he was meeting with someone of importance during that time.

Vulnerable~ Although his Mindsmoothing gives him insight, it also makes him vulnerable to the plights of others. The flow of others' feelings is relentless, and these can often sneak up and consume him, and can actually influence the way he feels. Aside from this mental invasion, Eleyr is also extremely susceptible to other means of trickery. With the elf being so wealthy, he is a target for gaining easy money often times, and usually lacks the common sense to realize if someone is scamming him or not. As he begins to experiment with his Mindsmoothing in more potent, potentially dangerous ways, the possibility of other's exploiting his gift for violence grows each day he garners more skill in the realm.

Mindsmoothing

Being a master of healing, the pristine Eyashene focuses on healing the rifts of the mind, rather than physical ailments primarily, however can work with both realms of wounds. His repertoire of healing arts is filled out with a mingling of basic herbal knowledge and a plethora of mundane skills, with his emotion-altering skills that allows him to relax patients. Although his skills as a Mindsmoother have been sticking to the normal, tranquility inducing for many a years, Eleyr has begun to experiment with other alterations of the skill, and has found that he can not only alter emotions in a sedative way, but can truly mangle one's mind should he feel the desire. Thankfully, the binding tethers of his pacifism prevent him from exploiting this gift, but his emotional vulnerability could easily lead other's to trick him into harming another with it.

First and foremost, his abilities have made him a passive, telepathic port, where all sorts of involuntary messages and emotions are shipped in. Eleyr believes that all living beings radiate telepathic thoughts and feelings, without control, but Eyashene's not only subconsciously radiate these things, but absorb them as well, in an equally involuntary manner. In fact, the elf has only minuscule control over what he does receive. He believes that technically his mind attempts to absorb everything, but through practiced force of will he has learned to block out at least parts of what he does not wish to receive. The mental flow seems to strengthen between a person when he lays his glance upon them, and thus this is the way he usually garners information from a desired 'target.'

In addition, the elf is able to alter the emotions he detects in another. The process by which he achieves this is obscure, but he somehow manages to exert his will over another's mind in a way that makes them feel what he wants to feel. After inserting enough artificial feelings of this nature, the target's mind will eventually adapt to whatever emotion he is producing, and begin creating that emotion on its own. Thus, Eleyr would have effectively altered the way someone feels, and convinced their mind to continue feeling that way. Although the most common use of this ability is to induce serenity in another, any emotion can be inserted in the target's mind. After nigh two centuries of practice altering emotions, the elf has learned to put a blanket of emotions over an area, rather than affecting just a single target. However, success is not guaranteed in all individuals with this practice, however most seem to succumb to his will when individually treated.

The most powerful of all the Mindsmoother's abilities, is certainly his skill in hypnosis, which has been a realm of his skill that he has delved into with more eagerness than others. Putting another to sleep is a great feat, and he relishes in the ability to do so. This aspect of his abilities can be used when working with a patient, who needs more than just a dose of serenity to relax them, but to actually be entirely asleep. In addition, he visits several insomniacs' homes on a nightly basis, with his skill being one of the sole things that can actually provide them with rest. Using the ability upon an attacker would be more of an endeavor, as it seems that those with more active emotions of anger or passion are difficult to soothe into slumber. Yet he probably could succeed in making them drowsy, and if they provided enough time for him to continue working, he could eventually, with continuous strain upon the target's psyche, put anyone to sleep, unless they rendered him unable first.

History

On the 30th day of Dál'injerá, 1468, a petite elven infant was born to Lylié and Krámyn Fásamár. They lived in a comfortable home, with beehives and gardens strewn about their courtyard, representing the occupations of both the mother and father of the household, in their respective order. Although the family was well liked about the forest settlement, they withheld a dark secret, which would certainly ruin their carefully constructed reputation. A few years before, Lylié had taken up a foreign religious practice, worshipping twelve deities, in addition to the mysterious Dreamress and Shadow who were aligned with her people. At that time she had had the privilege of reading from a few rare tomes within an official library, and she believed that by practicing the same religion as the elves from Santharia, she could increase the level of her connection to the Astyrhim, who her people claimed to be descended from.

Reluctantly, Krámyn had also been drawn into his practice, and so it was that he was frantically preparing for a ceremony for the Goddess of Peace as his son was born. Just as he lit the candle that would continue to burn in their home for a fortnight, crafted from his own bees' wax, his son came into the world, and thus the couple has always believed that their son gained a special 'link' with Eyasha on the day he was born. Lylié had always been a naturally sickly woman, and thus the anguish of labor had sent her into another spasm of illness, so her distraught husband was forced to juggle care of the new baby, maintenance of the ritual, and nursing his wife all at once. They could not invite help into the home, as any sensible elf in the tribe would think them a heathen should they see the open book explaining various rituals to foreign gods upon the table, though the peaceful members of their tribe would most likely not harm them.

1477~ At the age of nine, Eleyr had learned most of the basics of the world, having the approximate knowledge of a human five year old. His vocabulary was profuse to say the least for an elf of his age, and for his ninth birthday his parents had actually bought him a complete dictionary of the elven language. By this stage of his life, the couple had started to plan their escape to Santharia, and bought themselves a Tharian guidebook to begin learning what little of the language they could decipher. Only the humble beginnings of fluency were instilled at this stage, but their planning ahead would benefit their son when he later visited the central continent.

At about the same point they began to study the language, they discovered maps detailing the various trade routes between Nybelmar and Santharia, and began to actively study them. In order to avoid the prying eyes of neighbors, the trio purchased a smaller hovel on the outskirts of the settlement, where they relocated their hives and placed numerous plants into vessels which they carried with them. It would still be several years before their studying was complete, as they learned things in great depth like all elves, but they made sure that they did not neglect their son during these critical years, and continued to foster his rapidly expanding education.

By this age, the young elf had begun to exhibit hints of a natural talent for reading other's emotions. He could always tell the way his parent's were feeling, even when they put up what seemed to be a flawless facade. At first, they told each other that he merely knew them too well, but then he began to know precisely what emotions were being exuded by their neighbors, as well.

The event that confirmed his sense for others feelings was a bit of a trauma as well, as he had wandered outside of the house to get some fresh air while his parents were studying. He had seen his father stick gloved hands into the beehives before, though had not noticed how essential it was for him to protect his hands. Fueled by curiosity, and a fond reminiscence upon his palette of the taste of the bees' sweet honey, he stuck a slender hand in and grabbed a glob of the sticky fluid, only to be swarmed by a barrage of the fierce colony of malise. He could sense that he had stirred an immense fury in the insects, and subconsciously began to spread an overwhelming calm inside them, while doing his best to lower their anger. After a few moments, the bugs stopped, and returned to their hive. The fledgling Eyashene was stunned, and immediately set the glob of honey back in the bees' home before rushing back and recounting the miraculous tale to his parents, much to their astonishment.

1487~ After spending another ten years preparing for their trip, and gathering funds and provisions, the elven family departed from their forest home, not in the middle of the night, as one might expect, but on a bright, blithe morning, with the light of Foiros guiding them on their path. They brought with them several potted plants, including Lylié's detailed notes on them, and after about a fortnight they came across the entrance of the moon hills, and walked parallel to them further towards the peninsula. Eventually, they entered through the main gates of Ehebion, following the road to the Bridge of Silence that would lead them into Dassan, the capital city. There they intended merely to stock up on provisions, before hastily continuing away from the peninsula to find an area where the coast was more easily accessed.

However, Lylié, being fascinated with foreign cultures as she was, was intrigued by the culture of the Murmillions, and wanted to know more about the king and the Arkhaeon's Guild, both of which took up residence in the city. Unlike the beliefs of the Sarvonian elves, she did not go so far as to convert herself, but studied everything in depth and recorded intricate notes on every aspect of the people's lives. Eventually, her husband got caught up in the maelstrom of research, and Eleyr, who had learned to write Styrásh a few years ago was prompted to help copy passages from scriptures and tomes when his parents' fingers grew tired of grasping the pen. The stay in the city that was intended to last two nights, quickly transfigured into a year, before shifting into two. During this time, Eleyr also became very interested in the Murmillion culture and studying the beliefs of other civilizations.

During their many years spent with the people, they came to be accepted as temporary members of the tribe, and were provided with the good fortune of meeting the king himself, if it was only for a few minutes. In addition, they were granted access to many of the tribes’ records, which they used to complete their notes on the people. With the Murmillions being an arrogant people, they were flattered that someone would be so fascinated with their ways of life, and were eager to speak on and on about their policies and practices to the studious trio.

Eventually, Eleyr's family departed from the capital city, and set off to make a stop in several other cities that the people inhabited, so as to gather information on each of the many cults that lived about their realm. The young Eyashene's favorite was the city of Flaynna, where he got to witness a lava flow, that always spewed its contents away from the village, and a human sacrifice, both of which were unusual events. However, after exploring most all of the settlements, they returned to their abode in Dassan, where they continued to study in the library there.

1496~ At this point, each member of the elven family had utterly immersed themselves in Murmillion culture, knowing precise details of their rituals and the way the people acted, looked, dressed, and lived. However, Lylié had not forgotten that her original destination was intended to be Southern Sarvonia, and grew restless to depart during this year. Krámyn, however, found that he much preferred the half-elven people, and intended for their family to stay within Dassan for the rest of their lives.

He had already installed a smithy into their home, and, without telling his wife, began worshipping Mari. During the dispute about where they lived, he let the little fact slip. Dismayed, she gasped, saying, "How could you give up on Avá and Eyasha, for the Goddess of Peace is our patron deity, and the Dreameress is the reason the world exists!" To this he responded with a question of his own, "You didn't make this big of a deal when you decided to add a few Gods into your pantheon, in addition to the Dreameress and the Shadow. This whole Santharian nonsense is the reason we were forced to flee from our homes, because you were worshipping false idols, and you feared that our people would get retribution. And I thought you knew the Kaýr better than that when I married you!"

Eleyr, who had been raised worshipping the Twelve, and knew not of their absence in the Kaýrrhem religion, immediately rose to his mother's defense. A fight ensued, remaining verbal, albeit accented with shouts, but rising to a violent crescendo when an enraged father hurled a plate at his helpless son. The dispute ceased instantly, as blood oozed from a wound on his cheek bone. After the couple tended to their child's wound, Krámyn simply stated that they were forbidden to leave the city, and this was where they would stay. However, the maternal gardener was not a woman who could be swayed by her husband's orders, and plotted to run away. Yet, the tethers of love held her to the man she had married for several months, until another outbreak severed the ties of her adoration for him.

After several moments of screams and bellows of animosity, Krámyn had inflicted another cut on his son's arm, this one being much more serious. Lylié quickly applied some herbs to it, and bandaged it, but now had it set in her mind to leave the following morning. She had packed the possessions which she considered necessary months ago, and believed to have enough provisions for her and her son to survive, while trekking their way out of Ehebion and to a suitable port city. Several bells before the rising of the sun, Lylié silently awoke her son, and grabbed her pack and handed one to her son. All of their clothes, several san, plenty of provisions, a few 'precious' objects, the entirety of the tomes that contained their knowledge of herb lore and Murmillion culture, and all of the plants they could carry. The gardener had been very sentimental about her herbs, and therefore they had brought all but two of them.

After exiting the city via the Bridge of Silence, they entered the territory just north of the Moon Hills, just along the border between Murmillion and Santerran territory. This area was known as the Silver Forests, and so it was natural the Lylié could not help but gather a few specimens from the trees. At one point they passed by the city of Lhindal, which rose up from one of the Moon Hill's mountains, and knew that the people there may be hostile to any who were loyal to the Murmillion king. For, after all, the people who lived in that city had once pledged allegiance to him, but eventually submitted themselves to the Santerran king's rule. Ruins of many of the cult's temples lay in that city, as once all of the cults had gathered in the single place, before each of them settled into their own cities. They wisely avoided the traitorous settlement.

Due to their wariness to wander through the harsh territory of the Oberion Thaleseth, the two refugees were forced to walk fully around the mountain range, passing next to the forest which they had once called home. Although they were tempted to enter the wooded abode, they feared that they may be regarded as heretics for converting from the religion of their people. They slept in the cover of the undergrowth during the day, and walked during the night, with one evening bearing an even more climatic than any of the others. Little did they know that another group walked just inside the border of Gaeldorioth, the Emerald Woods, but these elves definitely were not supposed to be there. To the west of the Kaýr's territory lay the Crystal Woods, also known as Fallaenion, and the elves that lived there were as close to Coór as the Kaýrrhem were to Avá. If the Kaýrrhem were descended from the Astyrhim, then the Coórhem were undeniably descended from the Móh'rhim. The opposing tribe's assassins would kill any of their enemy elves on sight.

So it was, that when the trio of Coórhem assassins looked across the wooded border, they saw the perfect, blissfully easy target: two lonely Kaýr, a helpless woman and her adolescent son. What fun they expected to have tonight. After the male leader gave the signal to his two companions, he and the other man swept from the shadows of the undergrowth, their dark clothes blending with the night, the sight of the targets glancing about nervously eliciting a stifled snicker. Taking a wide birth about the couple, the leading dark elf made his way in front of them, and lurked beneath a bush, with the other assassin lingering behind. The hiding elf then awaited his targets' approach, and dove blade-first from the undergrowth, causing the two to hurl them in the opposite direction in fright. Their efforts were in vain, however, as the second assassin was in front of them.

His lithe body crept forward, and ceased Lylié, while grinning at her son all the while. Eleyr's mind had been completely wiped of recollections of the second assassin, as the dark elf's knife plunged towards his mother's chest, yet the adolescent remained paralyzed in shock. His awareness wavered as the blade came to contact with her chest, and then swelled with relief when he saw that it had not penetrated her skin, before having a crescendo of animosity when he realized that the assassin was just toying with him. His blade circled about her chest, making minor lacerations without doing actual damage. The petite elf struggled against the arms of his captive, but found that there was nothing he could do to help his mother. Allowing his body to fall slack, Eleyr had given up on life, and given up on the Goddess who he had though would protect him.

Salvation often comes in unusual forms. A slender knife came shooting from the woods, plunging into the first elf's neck with precise aim, and sending him collapsing to the ground, doomed to die within moments. As Lylié pulled the tattered remnants of her spilken gown up around her, she let loose a horrid scream. The second assassin, whose companion had just died, was not going down without a fight. His blade was raised menacingly behind her child's shoulderblades, and he whispered softly in his ear, the words still firmly engraved in the young elf's mind. "I shall not rest until I destroy every last member of your filthy tribe, and none of your Gods can help you." A rime-layered penetration made itself known in the petite elf's back with an announcement of anguish. The slab of metal twisted ruthlessly, and blurred shapes danced before Eleyr's eyes.

Yet another dark elf, this one a female, was running towards him, holding a vicious looking dagger. The Mindsmoother braced himself for death's caress, but instead heard the perpetually echoing thud of another body on the floor next to him. Moments later, his unconscious form found its place on the soft grass; two opposites laying still side by side, each despising the other with every firkin of their being, while clinging on to life itself.

1497~ Silkel trees rose up solemnly from the damp earth, appearing as ethereal beings rising from some deep chasm, for the wafting mists made their silhouettes obscure and ghastly. The petite elf looked around in fright, not aware of his location. Lost, alone, forlorn, desperate. However, an alluring woman, with pale skin and a sense of utter, grandiose mystery stepped from behind a tree, her exposed body veiled by the thick billows of mist, and languid, white tresses that draped their tendrils about her shoulders. The sickly elven youngster shivered violently, and it seemed that his fragility on the outside had penetrated its way into the world of perfection. But then, her slender digits reached out and stroke his cheek. Her luscious lips parted, and her words were pure, vocal serenity. The simple essence of tranquility transformed to an auditory form.

"Fortify yourself, my dear, for my touch is the cure. Ever since that fateful day of your birth, the same day when all of the faithful light their candles for me, we have been entwined in our destinies. You are my servant upon Caelereth, innocent one, for you have been gifted with the delightful ability to sense other's emotions, and calm them at your will. You have seemed to use the ability sparingly up to this point, but it has been determined by Avá, and her dream, itself, that you shall blossom into a fully fledged Mindsmoother. I have sparked a desire to travel to Santharia within your mother long ago, for there, in a port city you shall make your residence, and from this place you will radiate your peace. The city of Strata is full of restless inhabitants who lead hectic, stressful lives.

Lylié Fásamár is prepared to make the greatest sacrifice of her life: I have forbidden her to accompany you to Santharia, for that is not the picture that has been painted upon the fabric of destiny. It may be difficult for you as well, no more than an adolescent you are, but through your struggles, all you must do is close your eyes, to feel the caress of my gentle touch. I shall keep my eye upon you, my beloved child, like a mother sheep watches the wandering lamb. Do not be afraid." And then, with all the serene, rushing power of the wind whistling through the grass upon a moor, she concluded, "I am Eyasha. You are Eleyr. Our lives, one mortal, the other immortal; are one."

Lyth'be lashes parted, to feel the embrace of delightful sunshine upon the visage they were set in. The petite elf lay upon the white sand, feeling utterly relaxed in the soft bed it made, as if he were floating upon a white puff of cloud. A gentle breeze stirred his golden tresses, and he propped himself up, noting how the partially healed wound upon his back, did not ache, yet he was quite aware of its presence. Two women, one whom he recognized as his mother, and another a member of the Coórhem tribe looked down at him, happy that he had awoken. The memory of the Coórhem ambush flooded back, and he realized that this was the woman whose dagger had saved his life. The sails of a ship billowed audibly many peds away, and he noticed the glimmer of tears upon his mother's dirt covered face.

After they told him of their journey from that forest, to the coast in the country of Aca-Santerra, and prepared a ship for him to sail to Sarvonia in. The elf nodded distantly, thinking of his talk with the Goddess. Standing, he wrapped his arms around Lylié's slender form, and opened his mouth to tell her the horrible news, but she only set one finger upon his lips. "I am aware of that already, little one, and besides, who am I to argue with a Goddess?" His mother handed him a giant chest, containing all of his belongings: clothes and books regarding information on Eastern Nybelmar, Herb Lore, and Beekeeping. Sharing one last smile, the tiny elf boarded the ship, and set off to the country of Santharia, the city of Strata, and his destiny.

1498~ The first few days of the Mindsmoother's voyage were horrid, as he was struck with crippling sickness, induced by the repetitive rolling of the waves. Whilst fitfully sleeping, plagued from the outside by his affliction, the resurfacing haunts of his brush with death fought from the inside out. Even after his malady receded, the elf's time on the ship was miserable to say the least, and he quickly began to dislike the dreary atmosphere and constant fog that enveloped the boat. To accelerate matters to an even greater crescendo, the crew members were filthy in their regard to the petite elf, scathing his immaculate ears with their foul words and feeding him the worst possible meals.

However, the vulgar humans soon began to treat the elf with a new respect, after he accidentally taught them a lesson one night. When lounging in his quarters, Eleyr was feasting upon a small piece of cheese he had acquired from the crew's storeroom, when one of the barbarous men traipsed in noisily, as if he owned the place. Seeing the child with the piece of cheese, even after he had curtly rejected the disgusting stew earlier that evening, claiming he wasn't hungry, the man was furious. He strode purposefully across the room, fist raised to strike the tiny Eyashene, but suddenly Eleyr's abilities were activated on a subconscious level.

Before the man got close enough to hit him, he sent out a reflexive mindlash. Although he had never experienced it before, he knew that he must have done something negative to the man. However, moments later the man doubled over, and vomited upon the floor, much to Eleyr's dismay, but he also claimed that he could not see anything, as if someone had temporarily blinded him. The petite Mindsmoother flexed his fingers happily, as the man stumbled out of the corridors, and wandered off to warn his friends of the peril in harming the child. Eleyr had taken no initiative in activating the mindlash, it just happened as a side effect of feeling threatened, and he interpreted that Eyasha had sent a malady upon the man to prevent violence from happening. The elf ordered one of the crew men to clean up the vomit, and they quickly complied for fear of the boy's wrath. No, the sailors never denied him what he wanted again, after he exhibited that nifty little power upon the vulgar men.

After roughly five weeks on the boat, Eleyr had exploited his accidental abilities multiple times, and while he yearned for more time with the submissive crew, the sailors were happy to drop him off in the port city of Strata. The petite elf, appearing to the inhabitants of the city as no more than a late fifteen year old, was extremely vulnerable in the seedy parts of town, and swiftly made his way to a respectable tavern. The barkeep there had no issues providing him a safe refuge, as the fledgling Eyashene was equipped with more than a bit of coin. After spending three luxurious days in the tavern, he began looking around town, and found what he sought just down the road. A middle-aged couple, both Mindsmoothers, had set up shop there.

His nerves overcame him the first time he read the sign of the shop, but he returned about one week later, and greeted the two, who introduced themselves as Jon and Aylla. After having a lengthy conversation with them, he gave an example of his abilities, by sedating the woman until she almost fell asleep. With her being a Mindsmoother herself, Aylla expected to have a strong enough control of her emotions to prevent his influence, but the entire party quickly discovered the strength of the proposed apprentice's will. He swiftly exhibited the same talent on Jon, before reviving his sleepy mentor's. After that example of skill, he was quickly accepted as their apprentice, and heir to their position: The Official Mindsmoother of Strata. His training commenced immediately, and he made progress swiftly.

1505~ The first seven years of his apprenticeship were very exciting for the petite elf, as it was in this time that he garnered what could be considered actual control over his abilities. Rather than simply benefiting from the subconscious effects, he learned to block out some of the emotions he sensed, and direct the emotions he inserted into others with a bit more force. However, after they evaluated his progress near the time of his thirty-seventh birthday, the elderly couple declared that he was finished learning to control his Mindsmoothing skills, and announced that they would be exploring more mundane skills for the next session.

Eleyr found these skills to be dreadfully boring, but knew that they were essential to becoming a well rounded Eyashene. Covering topics such as herb lore, first aid, and basic massage, Aylla and her husband continuously noted that their student strived to learn everything about these topics, even if he disliked them, and constantly wanted more information about everything then they intended to provide. Rather than simply what herbs cured what, he wanted to know the climate the plant preferred, all of the myths and lore surrounding it, and plenty of other information most human's deemed trivial. The two found it odd attempting to raise an elf, as Eleyr wanted much more depth than they knew how to provide, but in the end, he was given an amount of information in all of the subjects, that was suitable for his people's customs.

1530~ In comparison to the short amount of time he received to practice his favored abilities, roughly twenty five years was spent learning about the mundane aspects of his chosen career. At this point, Jon and Eleyr both were celebrating their sixty-second birthdays, though none would have guessed that they were the same age. The elf only continued to become more vibrant each day, while his mentor took a turn in the opposite direction. After finishing up the mundane skills, Aylla and her husband had officially declared Eleyr's training complete, and at the perfect time to. With Jon being so old, both of them started having new ailments, and their health went into a general decline. The two actually became Eleyr's patients, and he had to use the skills they taught him to keep them alive.

1540~ Although Eleyr had done an excellent job of treating the two, seventy two is simply a great many years in the human lifespan, and he could do no more to sustain Jon. During the winter of this year, the elderly Eyashene was overcome by sickness, and passed into Queprur's grasp. Although the elf was exceedingly forlorn at the man's cessation, it was major step in his career, for Aylla, being seventy herself, felt that she was simply too old to run the shop anymore. Therefore, Eleyr became the official Mindsmoother of the city of Strata, and supported his old mentor through her late life.

1555~ Having already outlived her husband by three years, Death was eager to claim Aylla by this point in history. However, Eleyr was not willing to fail with her as he had done with Jon, but his attempts to save her would be in vain. One evening, they were wandering through the streets of Strata about their home, though they had stumbled into a rather seedy part of town, purely on accident, as an attempt at a shortcut back to the haven of their abode. The memory of the attack is etched in the slender elf's mind with the permanence of stone, and he can recall each moment of the happening with crystal clarity.

His keen eyesight had not given him an indication of the thing wire that ran across their path, yet Aylla's feet had found their way against it, sending her tumbling to the ground. Eleyr lunged reflexively to catch her, missed, and hurriedly attempted to ensure she was alright. However, he became aware that there was a greater power above her stumble, as gore from a new wound on her back dribbled onto his hands. Looking up the trail of crimson liquid to locate its source, he saw a knife, which must have been thrown, protruding from her back. Now, the two Mindsmoothers were notorious for being among the wealthier members of the city, and it was obvious that their assailants wanted these funds.

However, as the two revealed themselves from the shadows, hurtling a knife at the lissome Eyashene, he swept swiftly away from it, and felt his mind release a bolt of sheer power in their direction. Once again, he had had no control over the release, but was relatively happy with the effects. Ordinarily, he refused to harm an individual, even if they were harming him, but the Mindlashes he infrequently experienced were beyond his control, so he would simply have to live with them. One of the attackers doubled over, beginning to vomit, while the other clutched his head, indicating the throbbing ache that had originated there. Soon, both lay crippled upon the ground, having forgotten all notion of the events that had transpired that night, and fast asleep until morning roused their exhausted bodies. Ever since the two experienced that sheer jolt upon their minds, they had seemed to be more inclined to peaceful matters, a side effect the Eyashene had noticed from his Mindlashes, probably a small, permanent insertion of his own pacifism into their temporarily weakened minds.

1600~ After his last remaining mentor's death, Eleyr remained in their home and shop for forty-five years, accruing a vast amount of san and customers, before purchasing himself a new abode as a birthday present. Apparently, taking over as the official Mindsmoother of Strata, without any mentor or superior worker about, paid a massive annual sum. This, combined with the extra silverbard he received for the older shack, purchased him the commission of a fabulous, marble estate, with four, tall silkel trees forming the supports of the two-story house at the corners. He had the glowing trunks of the trees stripped of all branches for the length of their ascent, before being allowed to overflow with leaves and twigs at the top, around the flat, red roof of the flamboyant home.

Twin obsidian pillars stood on either side of the rich, oak-wood set of double doors, in which through passed a profusion of furniture, all shiny new, to fill out the elf's new home. The land upon which the home was built covered an underground oasis, and the construction of several wells across its surface would bring the Eyashene extra funds. In addition, he established an herb garden about the house, with several beehives to continue his practice from the Kaýrrhem traditions. All of this completed his flawless estate, and Eleyr reached a new level of rapture in the luxurious home. However, he quickly became addicted to the possessions inside, and rarely left his home, as the majority of his clientele simply visited him at his house, not requiring him to leave the mansion, especially considering he could just send a page out to complete errands.

1664~ Spending six decades in the glorious establishment settled Eleyr into utter contentment, and he couldn't possibly think of anything more he wanted, although still satisfied each new addition to his whims by purchasing the occasional one immediately. Although his human acquaintances had the lifespan of insects it seemed, he never truly got to know them with his affluent loft, though still mourned their passing, as he had an empathetic, compassionate soul. Though death of patients occasionally marred his life, he was quite happy for the most part.

In this year, however, he acquired a companion who he did end up garnering feelings for, a dove named Trinity. A poor merchant had sold him the egg, taking advantage of the elf's desire to have anything considered holy to Eyasha. When he was told that it was a dove, the holy bird of his hallowed deity, he purchased the bird in the instant, and made sure that it was well accommodated in his home. He continued procuring a fine sum of money from his stable income base, and loving his life with the luxuries and possessions he had established for himself.

During the winter of this year, he was approached by someone from the city of New Santhala, asking that he share his knowledge of western Nybelmar with everyone, by writing entries to put in a compendium. And so, Eleyr took up this hobby as well, in his free time, and enjoyed writing about his place of origin, while getting a small bonus from the submission of the entries, which he sent by page to the city. And so he continued living on, utterly blithe, and reveled in every day, rarely being blighted by unhappiness.

Possessions

First and foremost, the elf holds a moderately sized plot of land with a luxurious manor resting upon the land. Here his various belongings are beyond listing, as it is a rare item indeed that he could not procure should he truly desire it. However, every piece of furnishing in his abode is undoubtedly high quality, as the pristine Eyashene could accept nothing less. For this very reason, he rarely travels away from his flamboyant haven, but listed below are a few objects he would bring with him, entirely regardless of circumstances.

~One large bag, which hangs from his shoulder, that contains all of his various articles of clothing
~A separate, smaller bag, used for other various objects
~One ornate, silver cage, with luscious layers of dove feathers, encased in a pillow of silk, for Trinity to rest upon
~A profusion of various herbs (primarily sedative) with the base of the majority of these being the holy Trinity Herb (In separate, smaller bag)
~An intricate case carrying several small stones, which are easily heated in sunlight
~Often times about seventy san rest in a small bag which is usually in either the smaller of his bags or hanging from his hip

Familiar

Name~ Trinity
Gender~ Female
Age~ 4
Variety~ Dove (Coa-Coa Bird)
Height~ 1 palmspan, 9 nailsbreadth
Weight~ 2 and one Half Od

~Appearance~
As can be glimpsed through the intricate patterns of her cage's bars, leaves and blossoms petrified into an eternal twisting of metal, a petite avian figure indeed is immersed in the luscious mass of feather-stuffed pillows and traces of fabric. Like a crisp layer of rime, feathers of the purest white, and smooth as fine spilk, caress the bird's minuscule form, all two and one half ods of it. Of course, the Coa-Coa is a naturally small variety of fowl, but Trinity weighs far little than the average of her breed, and falls short of the height expectancy by just a bit, her growth stunted by a few hours of cooking in the desert, before hatching. Often tucked beneath her, her legs are a deep ebony hue, as slender as two twigs protruding from her lower body.

~Temperament~
Like the typical dove, Trinity exudes an aura of tranquility, whose origin is focused about the abyssal depths of her hypnotic black eyes. Although she is calm compared to most animals, she still remains a beast, nonetheless, and will become flustered should her desires not be filled. In fact, in this quality, she seems to ascend to a near human level of comprehension, in that she will complain if she is even unhappy with the most minute of details, not unlike her pampered owner. This is more of an instinctive matter on her part, rather than a conscious choice to complain, but resembles human whims, regardless. Her bond with the pristine elf is close, and his Mindsmoothing skills alone seem to be the sole possibility to settle her when she has become upset to the point of persistent noises and audible flapping of her wings.