Character

"You've seen my face before ? Apologies, friend ... I'm afraid I've never heard of someone of that sort. But... the sky certainly is an awful blue today... Don't you think ?"


Cross the Sea of Ash and the Indigo Deep, far south west of Vylbrand, you would find an empire ruled by one - proclaimed as blessed, his knights holy, The Lord King was the father of but one, a son by the name of Mason.


Worshipers of the primal, Ca Ong, the Doriean empire was built upon the conquering of the native Raen who had fled from the Azim Steppe, settling upon the land before being assimilated into the Dorinian forces - turned into lower class citizens, to be ruled over by their superiors, elezen that would come to rule over the upper class and holy leadership. The most notable elezen would come to be the Royal Family, whose king would be appointed upon by Ca Ong ; to be tempered, no, blessed, alongside of his most trusted knights.

As heir to the Doriean empire, it was expected that Mason was next in line to receive Ca Ong's blessing as his father began to grow ill. Years of tempering, Mason would later recount, but it would simply be spoken as the expected order of time. The heir was hardly young by the time his transition from prince to king was to come. At the age of 32, Mason had already become the father of two ; their mother a knight under his father's order, a secret, kept silent between all those privy. For a son of the Lord King to have been given two children by an au'ra woman below him - he shuddered the thought of what his father would do had they been discovered.

It was expected that reality would catch up to them. Blissfully happy to be a father, though not of love, to have them, if even if secret, was enough of a simple joy for him.

When his father's sickness began to rear his head, his ascension to the throne became inevitable. As years of history were told, it was expected he'd simply ascend - blessed by Ca Ong as so many others had been. Yet, blessed by another he had been, chosen by the crystal mother, and his tempering became an impossible task ; grounds for execution.

Protected by his loyal steed, Anthor, the distant descendant of the primal, they shared their wounds - scalding water from the primal's fury striking the former prince's face and the whale's wing as they fled. As far as they could go, as far as they could go to never be found again. To Gridania, they would settle ; hiding his true identity from his dying father's soldiers. Yet, even as his journey seemed to be nearing its end, the Wrought-Prince's journey was soon to begin - and his tale as a Warrior of Light would be sung soon, even as he drifted deep within his books, searching for an answer that would set his kingdom free.

An answer that would bring his children back to him.
Back into his arms.