Name: Artemis Marid

Age: 21

Appearance:


Though opinions vary on how beautiful Artemis is, no one can deny she's a striking figure to see, with her brown skin, starlight hair, and aqua eyes. She's a tall, slender thing standing at 5'9", with long, willowy limbs and subtle curves beneath her clothing. Her wardrobe is eclectic, with various scarves, jewelry, and feathers. She paints different markings on her skin and arms, adding to her unique look.

Occupation: Traveling Mystic

Personality: Artemis is whoever she needs to be to get by. But whether she's quiet and mysterious, or flirtatious and inviting, the one constant is that she's always looking out for herself. Though not particularly interested in other people, she enjoys using them as her primary source of entertainment. It's difficult to know who Artemis truly is or what she cares about, as she keeps everything truly important locked away – especially from herself.

History: Before she was Artemis, she was Emira Janan Mathilde Basira Felicity Lujayn Cosima Airtifae-Alqamar, Grande Duchess of the Silver Valley. Young Emira and her little brother Idris grew up with all the advantages that came with nobility. Idris, though younger than Emira, was the heir apparent. This was just fine with her – Emira was not quite suited for nobility. She was clever, worldly, and even charming when she wanted to be, but she had no interest in politics and governing. Idris, with his patience and generosity, would do well, while she entertained herself with seeing how quickly she could insult a dignitary and how long she could keep him from storming out of the palace after that.

When she was fifteen years old, a plague swept through the valley. They called it the Climbing Vine for the slow, crawling way it choked the life from its victims. Their mother was the first to catch it. Then their father. Emira and Idris were quarantined from their parents for more than a year before their died. The night before Idris' coronation, he fainted.

Preparations were being made for Emira's coronation even before Idris passed. Half a year after he first started showing symptoms, Emira charmed her way past the guard and crept into her little brother's room, as she had so many times before. Sometimes he had good nights, in spite of the sickness. His eyes would be bright and his laugh would ring out like a bell as she gossiped with him about the stuffy dignitaries, so full of themselves it was a wonder they fit through the palace doors. But that night was not a good night.

His eyes were glassy and his smile was weak as he clutched his big sister's hand with his waning strength. He whispered how proud he was of her, and how wonderful a ruler she'd be. Emira was the cleverest, strongest, funniest person he knew, and the people would adore her. They'd love her as much as he did. Emira looked at him for a long moment. Then she placed a kiss on his damp forehead, careful not to let any tears fall on him. She ran from the palace that night.

When she was eighteen years old, Artemis locked Emira away with her guilt and tried not to look back.

When she was nineteen, she heard a rumor that the Grand Duke of the Silver Valley had finally died without an heir.

Artemis traveled from one town to another, making her living as a mystic. In reality she was little more than a charlatan. Her ethereal looks, intelligence, and the skills she learned at court – languages, dancing, and singing, among others – helped her sell the facade. Before waking up in the forest, she made her living telling fortunes, selling "enchanted" baubles and sometimes outright stealing. Artemis played whatever role was required to entice her customers, and dazzled them with petty revelations about their futures or innermost thoughts (either flat out lies, generic statements that were easy to read into, or educated guesses based on how the customers presented themselves).

She told herself it was easier to forget over time – easier to push away the guilt. She could turn into someone else and feel nothing at all. After all, it was Emira who'd turned her back and ran from her Valley. Her little brother. Not Artemis.

Maybe if she said it enough times it would make it true.