History

CW: non-explicit violence, attempted murder

Thallan was a quiet child growing up, choked with the pains of perfectionism so tight that they could barely begin to try picking up a needle and thread. They stared endlessly at the intricate tapestries on the walls of their home, ran their hands over the embroidery that seemed to come so naturally to their parents. They didn't really recognize envy in their belly till they looked over their amateur embroidery hoops with wobbly stitching and threw it all out the window onto their aunt's gardenias and tried something else.

Jewelry-making. Awful, uninspired. Bronze-casting. Botched pours, ugly beads. Weaving. It took three aunties to stop them from ripping it out of the loom for the fourth time, wasting too much quality thread. All amidst praise and well-meaning advice to help learn from their mistakes. They were so promising for a beginner! their family kept saying. But that wasn't enough. Their family didn't get it. Being the youngest in the family amidst master artisans made Thallan impatient to show their worth.

They wanted to be good at something so badly that their desperation bled into their work as they grew older. When their father snuck away a ring from Thallan's mountainous discard pile to give to their grandmother, it didn't take long for the enchantment to take hold. They found Grammie Damasc the next morning, sleep-deprived and bent over her spinning wheel, muttering that her work wasn't good enough, aching for the perfect spool of wool to dye with that ruby ring gleaming on her knobbly knuckle. And Grammie never self-critisized. She knew her own worth and held her chin up high, and to see her like this alerted the whole family that there was something going on. But the wool she spun that night was finer than silk, and they kept their comments to themselves as they opened Thallan's tiny workshop to pick apart.

Here, shoes that made you feel lighter than air. There, a knitted scarf that brought you immediately to tears. Thallan's work evoked emotions so deep that they were undeniable as long as you wore their work, and they were quickly packed up and shipped off to the Order before their fourteenth birthday. Protests stifled their throat - were they abandoned so quickly? Was their work so terrible? - before their father leaned in with a kiss to their temple and a promise that when Thallan came back, they'd outshine the entire family.

That promise kept them going through all of Namarast, and farther. They stayed longer than they had to, eventually claiming a workshop for themselves along with their own ordering list of supplies that ignored the cost. Years passed with that quiet burning coal in their belly to earn the Damasc name, until they nearly mastered every craft they could get their hands on. Nearly, but not quite. Thallan kept to themselves and their workshop, curling more and more into stifled unsociability. By the time they became an adult, they had colleagues more than friends, places of advice and favors rather than people to spend time with. They had no idea how to hold a conversation by the time they graduated, but they came home with a portfolio that made their parents weep, and that was good enough for them.

After that, Thallan became the star of every craftmans festival, every guild connection, every spotlight in shops lucky enough to carry an enchanted Damasc product. They were pushed to socialize, make connections, sell themselves, and enough conversations of slipped smiles and stammering, sweaty palms made them reach for their corsets that gave them confidence, earrings that made their words flow like a calm river, and arm bands that drew all eyes to them and kept them there. They relied on their clothes like armor, eventually unable to leave the house without them.

And it wasn't trickery, not really. Their enchantments couldn't go beyond what someone was naturally capable of on their own, so this charisma had to come from somewhere...right? And they had a mentor to rely on, whose word they took as gospel, whose perfect mannerisms Thallan used as a shield whenever they could feel their nerves rising to the surface. It was good, for a time. Their family was proud of them.

Past Thallan's thirtieth birthday, when the Damascs were a household name, Thallan was pushed outside of the cities to spread their name to lesser known villages. It was almost a vacation to rent rooms outside of the sprawling galas Thallan had grown used to, rubbing elbows with nobility who all begged for a commission spot on a list years long. They wouldn't think too much about them doing it all alone without their mentor. They could leave their earrings at home, maybe. Loosen the belt of the corset while they talked about these new shoes that were their best work yet.

At the showcase, Thallan called upon the prettiest girl in the village to try on red slippers so rich that she'd never seen such beauty, let alone worn them. And when she danced with them on, the crowd wept as her passion swept her away. But when the musicians put away their instruments, she didn't stop. When her parents told her she could sit down again, she didn't stop. She slipped out of her beau's grasp, evaded the mayor, leapt over the stage and spun down the road, unable to stop. She danced like a thing possessed, so passionate that her feet would bleed before they would catch her. And bleed they did.

She twisted through nets with a willowy grace, jumped over crowds of reaching hands that tried to catch her, and evaded even the most clever of the village to the tune of unheard music. The frustration mounted and aimed itself at Thallan, and their words failed them when arms grabbed them and screamed at them to do something. It was the shoes, Thallan choked, take off her shoes and she'd be fine!

To the infuriated crowd who loved the girl dearly, the blame of this lay solely at Thallan's feet. And as if the girl's unheard music drove them all mad, they tore at him, clawing at his face and throat, told them to do something, to cease their witchcraft and give her back! In the chaos, a rope was thrown around Thallan's neck, from whose hands, no one noted, or cared - but three more joined in to hoist it up, gripped by the craze.

As Thallan was pulled into open air, they thought that this was it, that all their hopes would end under an apple-blossom tree in late summer, all because they left their stupid earrings at home.

Thallan barely heard the yells of joy as blood rushed to their ears and their vision went black. Her beau had managed to catch her by the waist and rip those shoes off, and she'd collapsed from exhaustion, unconscious but still breathing. The lynch crowd was broken up as rationality was somewhat restored, but they couldn't chase Thallan out of the village fast enough, throwing their beautiful shoes after them as the carriage rode away.

Thallan hid after that for a solid three years. No gentle coaxing from their father could pry them out, no tsks from Grammie Damasc could shame them enough to come back into the spotlight. Their face and throat was scarred from that day onward, a permanent reminder that they were nothing without their enchantments.

From that day forward, once they managed to emerge from their room, they never leave the house without a full attire. They barely sleep without a bracelet or subtle soothing mood to replace their constant anxiety. They've learned their lesson to stay away from mage-fearing villages, and honestly? Thallan hasn't seen hide or tail of themselves in years.

Nowadays, Thallan spends less time promoting the Damasc name and moreso using their hard-earned charisma to speak on behalf of the Mage Court. It's more of self-preservation than selflessness that they advocate against Miriam's reign - never would they want to experience that hell again. If it keeps someone else from the noose...well. That's just an added bonus. (1,355 words)

Log

-Summoning Circle. 9/19/2022. They begin with +3 Power, +1 Discipline.

-+1 Power 9/19/2022. Thallan's emotional manipulation is a little more potent with +1 Power.

-Imbue Magic 9/19/2022. Thallan can imbue their magic into the clothing they create.

-Stat Tokens (x2) 9/19/2022. Thallan can now manipulate physical sensation as well as emotional, with +2 Discipline.

-Mending 9/19/2022. They can sew faster [:

-Extended Telekinesis 9/19/2022. Can REALLY sew faster