Personality

Naviri used to be a bright, shining child. Her future was ahead of her- and then the order of her birth cast her aside, followed by her burns by her sister when she was only trying to apologize. 

As a result, Naviri is paranoid and somewhat cruel. She is furious at the world for the hand it dealt her, but is determined to take her revenge. She feels entitled to her birthright as the Head of House Firebird, but is more likely to destroy the House than lead it. She is fiercely independent, and will attack anyone who tries to saddle her with duties beyond what she is willing to take on. She is vain, and mourns her lost beauty. 

However, she is not without her values. She is eloquent and charming, if people are willing to look past the burns and scars. She values loyalty, and to those who have sworn fealty to her, she will protect them until she no longer can. She is a good teacher, and loves teaching young mages how to control their powers. 

Though she may be prickly and short-tempered towards those she does not know, she is kind with those she trusts, and will not let them down.

(205) 

History

Born the younger of a set of twins, Naviri's destiny was sealed from her birth. Although she did not realize it, her only value to the family was to be married off, to provide children to another noble. This destiny was cemented by the scarcity of scales, the beastly wings that did not belong to any known bird, the hooves that were not split, the tail that bore no feathers. She did have slit pupils, and sharpened canines, but she was found lacking in relation to her twin. She had power, but it would be far less than that of her sister. 

This destiny was kept from her in her infancy and early childhood. She was incredibly close to the sibling that stole the power from her, spending the time where they were free flying above their home. They whispered secrets to each other, sharing everything from clothing to desserts to experiences. 

And then, when she was eight, her father introduced her to her betrothed, Wynston Crespiro. The stallion was seventeen, nearly ten years her senior. She had been upset, but if this is what being the Heir took, then she would do it. 

But he had laughed at her, at her foolishness. "Oh, foolish child," he had said, "you are not the Heir. Natalya is. You will marry this man, become a Crespiro, and give him children with magic." She had paled when she saw his slit pupils narrow, focusing on her, on the features she lacked. "It's the least you could do for your family," he hissed, "considering your lack of Firebird features, where your sister has them in spades."

She had kept up her facade, the show of strength in front of the man who already looked at her with hunger, most likely for the power in her blood that she could give to their future children. She knew that it would never be a marriage of love- a marriage of duty, and nothing more. When she returned to her chambers, she had cried for hours, cursing her sister, her father, herself for her lack of power. 

And so she aged, hating everyone, including herself. When her magic manifested, she burnt her sister's wings, and a small part of her was glad to deny her twin the skies- and then she had been healed. Her sister was always so perfect, and she was always found lacking. 

But her lady's maid, Radana Yankova, counseled her. She had to be the better person. She would leave for Namarast in the morning, and her sister for the Forges. For everything that Natalya had, Naviri's magic had manifested first. She would be the first to Namarast, and although she was only the spare, that wasn't Natalya's fault. She could not help that she had been born first. 

Although she had wanted to stay mad, she couldn't. She had gone to her sister's room, where she had been forbidden, to apologize. She couldn't leave for Namarast, leave Natalya behind for who knew how long, without at least attempting to make things right between them.

She would regret that decision.

She had not known before the pain that she experienced as Natalya lost control. She smelled the burning hair, felt the flames as she tried in vain to control them, to turn them away, but the flames did not yield to her control. Half of her body practically destroyed, she dragged herself behind a marble half wall. She sobbed, screamed, passing in and out of consciousness, as the heat around her grew. 

She came to for the last time as she was lifted, screaming and moaning in pain, hearing Natalya's screams of horror. With her good left eye, she saw the panic and fear in Natalya's face before she passed out from the pain again. She woke several times during the healing process, losing the contents of her stomach at the scent of her ruined flesh. 

When she woke, she heard that Natalya had already been sent to Namarast. She saw her face in the mirror, and wept with her good eye. Her beauty was gone, destroyed, covered with wrinkled skin, fine fuzz, and scars. Her right half remained mostly pristine, but her left... it would never be the same. It was a miracle that she could see at all, that she retained the ability to fly.

And yet, she was still ordered to Namarast, to the place where her almost-killer resided. She begged her father to reconsider, to allow her to train within the safety of the manor, but he refused to yield. She would go, and she would be seen there- it was necessary for the Firebirds to maintain their standing with the King. The people there would see her, would laugh at her, would pity her. When she was done, she would marry- for Wynston still wished to marry a "ruined beauty," if only for the power it would give his line- and that would be her life. 

Naviri was trapped between a fire and a soldered wall. She could go to Namarast, learn to control her magic, and then marry for duty, not love. She would not be free, she would not be in power- she would be a mother to mage children, and nothing more. Naviri, having been told that this was her only option, had ranted and raved, angry at her sister, her father. 

Her lady's maid gave another option- to flee to the South, and take up residence in a Wild Clan. Her nephew resided in one, she said; they were meant to provide refuge to mages in need. She could learn control there, and be far away from her almost-murderer. Deep down, Naviri knew that Natalya was not to blame- but it was far easier to consider her sister the villain, instead of herself. 

So when the caravan set off to Namarast, Radana arranged for the caravan to go missing. Her nephew's Wild Clan took hostages, wiped memories, and destroyed evidence, taking Naviri under their metaphorical wings. She trained and studied, becoming a respected mage. When she turned eighteen, the head of the Clan, having no children of his own, named her the heir of the Clan, so great was her eloquence and cunning, and began to train her to take on the mantle of leader after he was gone. Since then, she has bided her time, growing her power, so that she might one day confront her sister and her House, and take her rightful place at its Head. 

(1085)

Firebird's Legacy