Lady Ashell Eva Godsblessed

In the earliest days, my family prided me as their one valuable of any real worth. They lived through the fallout of the the Tyr Depression following the collapse of the Empire, and I was a blessing and a curse- as I was another mouth to feed in these harsh times.

My father plied his hand cutting wood and tilling fields, while my mother was a seamstress, and a mere dabbler in the Magic Arts, though she kept this secret. I tried to help out by preforming little tricks at local taverns. I was always a small hit as a child, as my mother taught me several tricks to woo an audience. Looking back, I was never good with illusionist sleight of hand tricks, but I think seeing a cutie like me try was worth the show. I was able to almost mesmerize the crowds, and nearly control them in my own way. It was never extravagant, my hold over them, but I earned more than I ever should have doing as much.

In our small town, we started to notice that families from the Tyr boarders were settling. As the outlying lands fell to outside rule, pure Tyrians were forced to move further into Tyr boarders. There was talk, even then, that we would be forced to move soon. My mother, whom I knew to be a very intelligent woman of great beauty, suggested we attempted to move deeper into Tyr territory.

It was then that a robed figure showed up. Thinking him a thief, my father took up arms against him. I don't know who struck first, but a flash of light flared out, and my fathers wood axe burst into splinters! The robed man spoken then, as my mother clutched me close to her bosom.

“I am not here as an assassin, but merely as a messenger. Your child has been witnessed with a tremendous talent, and has been selected to take up schooling, should you choose, to nourish this talent.”

I never knew for sure what the robed man and my parents discussed after that. I was whisked away, and learned that my parents had not been convinced to enroll me. Our funds were meager, and with relocation being a possible reality, it seemed almost to daring to be.

I remember though, the power that this robed man wielded. The awe he inspired in everyone around us. It made me thirsty for such power. That day, I grew a little, and I felt for the first time ambition nipping at my heels.

It took considerable efforts on my end. I exerted every effort on my mother to convince her, and she was unmoved. I knew that if I could convince her, my father would fall in behind her. We all knew who the brains of the family was, and I believe this is how they survived the Depression.

Defeated, I began packing for what I knew would come next; the move into deeper Tyr territory. I discovered a book of my mothers, though it looked unused for many years. I tried reading it, and it was in some foreign language. To my amazement, the words in the text glowed! I was beyond myself in this, my finest treasure discovery. I learned that the beginning of the book held a language codex, and much then after, notes written by my own mother. It seemed as those she was an aspiring mage in her youth. I remember asking, years later, why she never kept up with the Magic. She only blushed and murmured something about my father. I could have used my since-gained powers to learn the whole truth, but I've never used them on my own parents.

Except for one time.

I poured over that book. My mom took exceptional notes. It was easy to learn that this was a spell book, and the codex was used to read the language of Magic. It felt almost natural, as if it were burned into my blood. A year passed before I felt confident enough to launch my plan; I cast a spell on my unsuspecting mother. I had no idea if it worked, and I was a fool try so soon, never knowing if the magic would backfire, or harm her in some way.

Thanks be to the Gods that this wasn't the case. The Charm went off very well. I felt powerful energies surge through me, like a feeling I would later know as ecstasy. With a gentle caress, my mother fell under my own spell, crafted from her book. As I had planned, my mother became convinced to enroll me in the school, and my father backed the idea.

They sold our home, and made arrangements to move further inland. I was given funds for tuition, and allowed to rendezvous with a carriage. At the school I met with the Master of the Tower, and began boarding at the tower. I met many friends, and went on several adventures. That, however, is a story for another time.

* * *

Years went by, and I had graduated from the Tower. I said my goodbyes to my darling friends, and set out in the world. I was investigating powerful Mind magics, and was on the cusp of discovering a means of communicating telepathically with people. If my studies went well, I could adapt the technique to function normally. I found the idea of telepathic communication almost arousing, and couldn't wait. It meant that many of my other studies would suffer. I felt it was worth some sacrifice-- I had even given up entirely on the school of Necromancy in this pursuit, much to the chagrin on some of my teachers.

My parents had been forced to relocate three different times, moving further and further within Tyr boarders. They sacrificed a great deal to see that I prospered, and I vowed that one day I would repay them ten fold, and allow them to rest in wealth unlike they've never experienced

Being an Alumni with the Tower, I had a few names to follow up with in my study. I wrote to one Zeke Munsted, a famous Gnome writer from my parents era, and a member of the Circle of the Forge. It seemed he had many helpful texts, and even invited me to his (well, their) tower in Volskrad. I've never been, I'm sad to say. I've never met Zeke, even. The time was never right.

I found myself on the steppes of a once-fine winery. The vineyards looked as though they had been left untended to for some years, and grapes were rotting on the vines. I had intended to trade some of my herbs for a delightful bottle of wine, and a place to rest myself for the night, when I met the Lord of the household. A nearly ancient man of some years. His wife passed on, and his children died in the dragon wars some 30 years ago. Any next of kin were long since unheard from.

I'll admit, a devious smile crept to my lips, and I formed a plan born of some selfishness. It seemed almost to good to be true. I sat with the old man, who had been alone for some time. He gave up on his winery when his wife died, and has merely waited on death. The story was sad, and it almost made me feel guilty for my plans.

I kept the old man under my most powerful of Charms, and convinced him to restart the winery. Using his wealth to breathe new life into the land, the place began to prosper again. I convinced the man to write me into his will, which he did quite willingly. He admitted to me, one day, that since meeting me, he's been the happiest he ever was since his wife passed on.

A week later, the old man died from old age.

* * *

I sent for my parents, and insured that the most lavish of escorts took them from their hole in the wall to their new palace. I swelled with pride knowing I could finally repay my parents for all they have done. They tell me I give them to much, but I tell them I can never give enough. I have obtained a great deal of wealth thanks to the winery, and have settled into a life of comforts.

I still write to Zeke, and trade texts with him. Thanks to him, I've learned several languages of the world. I've taken to Alchemy as a hobby, and maintain a very prosperous garden for alchemic goods. There is circulation within the Alumni of my gardens, and I trade with many mages.

I've even hired an older gentleman, Sir Gilion, who seems quite taken with me. He bears the crest of a knight-- the Golden Lions royal guard, no less. I maintain him as a bodyguard, but he preforms the duty of a butler. My mother says it's fitting that a royal guardsmen should be my bodyguard, “You are a little princess, after all!”

I entertain little ideas of royalty, from time to time. Perhaps with it, I could restore some good and order to the shattered empire that Tyr has become. The idea does tickle me so.

It was then that a man came to me. I remember seeing him from time to time purchasing my wine. It seems he was taken with my beauty, and judging from his thoughts, my wealth to a degree. I can't blame him for the latter, but the genuine feelings for me made me blush and giddy. He presented me with a gem in the shape of a tear, or raindrop. He offered this to me, in an effort to become my suitor. I asked him about the gem, and he replied, “I only know that this is called the Tear of Aphroditie. The story behind the gem has last to me.”

I was intrigued, and unsatisfied “I'll only consider your offer if you can discover the tale behind the gem.” The idea of the God of love, lust, and other related things having a tear named from it puzzled me. The quest I gave was something I made up on the spot. Sort of a grand tease. It would ensure that I learned the tale, all the while making obtaining me all that much sweeter for the young gentleman Agreeing he set off.

I saw him again several months later, when the leaves started to turn colors. I noted that his face was sullen, and the joy he previously felt was gone. I asked him what he learned, and he at first did not answer. Eventually, he looked up at me, and told me, “The tale of Aphrodities tears is to grievous to speak of. I'm filled with such sorrow knowing it, that passing on the knowledge would be a curse.”

I was shocked. I had no idea that a mere tale could inflict such feelings of remorse. A surface search of his feelings proved he was genuine, but when, determined to know the truth, I attempted to lunge into his mind for more, I was shunted out, like the coils of my mind were pulled up and out by a being of titan strength!

I slumped in my chair, drained. My would-be suitor gave me a gentile peck on the forehead, and laid the gem in my hands. “I'm sorry, I cannot be the man you marry. I wish you great happiness in your life.”

He left, never to be seen again.

* * *

Years have gone by, and my winery is prospering. My father works the fields, though I insist he doesn't need to. He tells me he feels useless if he doesn't do something. I can't understand why he can't accept that we have servants, but I humor him.

Meanwhile, bandits seen on the roads have caused me to increase security around the grounds. I've hired more men, and I've had a wall built by a dwarf and his masons. He assures me that nothing short of the earth splitting open and swallowing the wall will ever move it from the spot. I like dwarven confidence in their stonework. Peering into his mind, I trusted his handiwork.

Zeke says he has acquired a text that should be critical to my research. The wait for these shipments is almost unbearable. I feel as though I should just visit Zekes' tower so that I can then travel the passages of magic to reach his volumes. It feels like this shipment has taken longer than it should.

Without the text, my studies have grown stagnant. I periodically travel corridors of magic to the Tower, and browse their library, though I feel as though I've been over it a hundred times. The urge to travel the roads a spell, in search for volumes on mystic research nips at my heels like wanderlust to kender. I put in word among the Alumni my interest for traveling robes. One made mention of a friend of his in Zakharah who may be interested in parting ways with his robes.

Once I'd advanced my studies with this text of Zekes', I'll set out into the world. I've left my home in good hands, and my parents should be well defended against any ill will. Sir Gilion has even volunteered to stand at my side, and offer his sword and long rifle to ensure I stay safe. I accepted, gladly.