Stats

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Manu Form

Prefers to be in her Manu Form since she is a lot smaller and makes it easier to move around. She will be in her Sylori form when visiting the nations of either parent, Scientia or Vacivia.

Mundus' Blessing

Sumire gave a prayer to Mundus for the sake of those who had become hopeless to the eyes of others earning her a wonderous blessing allowing her to be the essence of the flower Wisteria.

One of the Waking Divinity

A silly title but a serious one nonetheless between two other friends that share the same goal and gift. A Luminara, known as a prodigy from very young to excel in Divine magic. A Daimon, born unnaturally with the blessings of the once fallen Ascendant of Fate.

About

- Princess of Wisteria -

Designed and with Lore by prince-corvidae, Art by Alkemistry.

Species: Sylori (Class: Novae) (Vacivia x Scientia Hybrid) (Lore here!)

Tier: ★★★

Child of Vacivia and Scientia -- her birth was meant to symbolize the hope for a peaceful future between the two nations. Born from Progenitors, it  was expected that when she came of age – it’d be as Regnas, who would  serve to rule a jointly owned territory. Instead, the Princess of  Wisteria manifested as a Novae – casting doubt on the strength of her parents’ convictions and how long the uneasy treaty between the nations would last. Yet as she grew, spending her springs and summers in Scientia and her winters and falls in Vacivia – so did her magic. An oracle, her visions would come to save the lives of many a Sylori near  the edges of the void and slowly start to change the public’s opinion.  With the threat of the Mirrored God drawing ever nearer – many who once mocked her now view her as a sign of hope.

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QUESTIONABLE PEACE BETWEEN NATIONS

Amidst the wine-drinking, the flower arranging, and merry dancing – a quiet, unremarked upon meeting was held. It consisted only of the four Progenitors, the Prince of White Lilies, and the Ambassador from Cor Ionas. None but the six involved, know exactly what was said during the meeting.  But The Princess knew, at least, why it had been held – for she had seen the mangled remains, seen the fear in the faces of the diplomats sent by the northern-most covens. The Mirrored God’s men had come to those covens in the dead of night, offering two choices – loyalty or death. Their Regnas had laughed, spit in the faces of the voidal possessed husks daring to offer them a false absolution.

The very next dusk, the outlying territories of all four covens were destroyed. Not by an army – not by shardless or voidals – but by something unfathomable to mortal eyes. Entire villages were simply gone, along with the very land they’d been built upon. Scouts were dispatched to look for survivors, returning with only a handful of Sylori – all largely unresponsive.  The healers could do nothing for them. The villagers writhed in silent agony, never waking from their unnatural sleep. Not dead but barely in a state to be considered alive.The Princess had been called in by her mother – given special leave by her father to return to Medeas a season early – and asked to oversee research into the survivor’s conditions.

She was given the full resources of Vacivia’s court and offered the help of her older brother, the Prince-Regent in securing both the best minds of the city and any needed ingredients.But try as she might, the Princess saw no progress in her patients. If anything, their health seemed to worsen. They could not keep down any food that wasn’t flesh or blood – they began to exhibit violent tremors, and would whisper nonsensical phrases between strained breathes. Even proven treatments against possession did nothing – nor did they show up as undead on any tests, despite the signs.

A BLESSING TO THE PEOPLE

Just before the festival, the Princess’ and her people were dealt the biggest blow to morale.  It was the Acolyte of the Oxalis who first spotted the new danger – in the faint lines beginning to form in the crystal of one of the afflicted Gladiatori’s horns. The Princess rushed to confirm what her sinking heart already knew – the heartshards of the survivors, their very souls were now in danger. It was with a heavy heart that she left their bedsides to attend the Fete of Spring but she knew that her testimony might be needed to convince the other Progenitors and moreover – Cor Ionas to act against this coming threat.

It was her best chance to get help – her only chance. But then, the meeting was done and she saw her father’s face as he left the Progenitors’ tent. It was hard, colder than she’d ever remembered – and that terrible sinking feeling overcame her heart again. Her Mother followed, casting her a sad, sympathetic smile. And in that moment she knew, that to save these people – to save her people, she’d have to take things into her own hands.

That night, she would pray to Mundus for guidance and for the first time, she would hear a voice in return. It said, in a soft whisper;

“Go to the Grove of Gaia's Tears.
There you shall find a holy spring.
Pluck six flowers from the bank,
and draw seven cups of this water.
Only you may enter and only you may leave.“

In the morning, when she awoke, the aura of magic that lingered around her as a Novae had changed. Where once was only the vague floating shapes of her purple and blue magic – was now the sweet-scented blossoms of wisteria.