And done! I hope you all like this new member of the group =3

[b]Name:[/b] Ryan “Skye” Rakesh Paimon
[b]Nickname/Preferred calling:[/b] Skye [ Ski-e ]
[b]Age:[/b] 18 years old
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Orientation:[/b] Heterosexual
[b]Relationship status:[/b] Single ; Unmarried

[b]House name:[/b] Adopted into the house of Blaumond [ the Archmagician of Ferros’s house ]
[b]Homeland:[/b] The Kingdom of Ferros. 
[b]Origins:[/b] 100% Valean blood
[b]Family:[/b] Rakesh Azar Paimon [biological father; deceased], Elisabeth Lucius Paimon [biological mother, deceased],
Oswald Blaumond [adoptive father], Cherilyn Blaumond [adoptive mother], Brandon Blaumond [stepbrother].
[b]Race:[/b] Magician/Mage
[b]Position:[/b] Archmagician’s assistant, The Queen’s magician, researcher, pyromancy student.

[center][b]|| Appearance ||[/b][/center]

[center][img]http://i655.photobucket.com/albums/uu272/shadowwolfcat13/prop4_zps80b27ac2.jpg[/img][/center]

[center]A young man standing at about 182 centimeters in height, Ryan, or as he prefers to be called and ofttimes only introduces himself as Skye, is certainly one to stand out among the mountain people of the land he has come to call home. His physique is in the norm, with a well-proportioned body, which is neither skinny, nor plump. It should be noted that he lacks a defined musculature, unlike the majority of Ferros boys his age, who undergo daily training with the sword, however, he is nowhere near feminine. The usage of aerodynamic spells, with constant backflips and frontflips in the air, as well as the occasional swim have helped him maintain a fit and healthy organism, sometimes even appearing athletic. Having long strong legs and lungs trained in higher altitudes builds him better in agility, speed and stamina, rather than strength and endurance, thus he tends to avoid up-close and personal confrontations.
His skin is a soft pantone 62-6 C, which matches well with his striking light blue eyes. Together these bright colours contrast his dark ash brown-black hair and create a stunning appearance, sometimes even giving off a “glowing” or “shining” effect in his cat-like sky eyes. 

When it comes to attire, Skye prefers to adorn himself with lose patterned clothing and almost always has some sort of coat on himself. Quite picky about his garments and difficult to please, he detests anything he might consider restricting. Thus items such as scarves, bandages, belts, cloaks, polos, chokers, even tunics, are out of the question. This rule also applies to the material the clothing is made from. If it is from something heavy, such as pure fur or several layers of wool, he would shove it away and rather freeze to death, unless a good amount of persuasion is done. And heaven forbid him from even touching armor. Wearing that type of hard metal gear, in which nearly all flexibility is lost, is something he considers foolish and is one of the many reasons why he laughs at the knights and guards, whom he believes are dimwitted beast-like buffoons. 
His regular coat’s length ranges from hip to knee line, ofttimes even further below, while the sleeves are rarely longer than the elbow point, due to reasons stated above. A hood is optional, but commonly present, always big enough to overshadow his face, yet pockets, both of the inside and outside kind, are a must. Additional attachments are seldom present, for he has no intention of being weighed down by anyone, himself included.
Beneath his coat of choice could be a simple shirt or a sleeveless one. It highly depends on the weather and since he spends a good portion of his time at mountain capital of Ferros, he is inevitably forced to dress a bit more warmly, including a vest and woollen pieces.
As for colour, Skye does his best to avoid white, shades of pink, violet and yellow. Most of his shirts are black, while the vests have some soft of checkered pattern. He has a preference for silver over gold, despite knowing the latter is of higher value.
Bottoms are either baggy or tight, according to whatever is available, but are always made of flexible cloth.
Accessories are objects he does not fancy, yet he can be spotted wearing long gloves, which are purely for practical purposes. 

Overall, Skye prioritises flexibility and movement over looks, but he dislikes the humble dress code of magicians, as well as the tight formal clothes he is told to wear at official gatherings with the queen, which, naturally, he doesn’t unless someone attempts to force him into them or is an exception.[/center]

[center][b]|| Biography ||[/b][/center]

[hider=history]It was the fourth year since the time Malfear returned, a time dark and bleak, dyed with the red shades of war, when battle cries spread across the land, much like the roars of a raging lion. Screams of pain and terror were the backing vocals of this chorus as flames burned both living and dead and their fumes rose into the sky, raising the banner of death. Long were the days and the nights - even longer, for it was after the sun had bled and sank down into the earth, to sleep like a deadman under the stars, that the armies of the foul mage, he who cast the most taboo of all magic, marched and stole the lives of the innocent. They were martens, beats who knew only how to take, who tortured and slaughtered man, woman and child alike. Mercy was shown only to those, who would bend the knee and bow their head, yet how easy it was to accept such defeat and how merciful it truly was to take the knife and bleed for the dark arts, becoming one with the darkness and thus taking its wretched power - necromancy, could only be speculated. No doubt for the cowards it was a task they took from all their heart, doing anything to save their already stained, filthy skin. For the prideful and honorable, it goes without saying. They chose the afterlife to a meaningless existence. Yet there were those, who indeed had no other choice than the black road, for the sake of their family, for the sake of their friends, perhaps even for the sake of their country.

‘Twas such a tale, the one of Rakesh and Elisabeth Paimon. A young family they were and of name they looked not down. Renowned were both for their skill and mastery, the husband - in taming of the wild wind and performing blessings, and the wife - in subduing the everchanging waters and healing of ailments. They were magicians, who had no spite. Two pieces of a puzzle, which fit just right.
In Veleal they grew, met and wed, yet their first year in marriage was darkened by the clouds that rolled in from the north, the scornful Malfear’s scourge. The purging of their homeland they could not stand, thus the couple prepared and answered the call of their lord. Three years they clashed on the battlefields, creating formations or using the elements on their own, protecting the weak and injured. 
It was in the midst of summer that Elisabeth discovered she was carrying a child. Feeling the new soul within her, this little bud that would become her most cherished fruit, she grew even more confident and eager to drive away the invaders, in order for her little one to be born in a land of peace. However, Rakesh was startled and frightened, which are not to be laughed at. As a husband and now as a father, he felt the heavy burden on his shoulders. For the first time he forbade his wife to do something and that was to engage in battle. An unwilling and stubborn head she was, disobeying her husband’s will. Thankfully she was reasoned with after consultations with several nurses and healers. For her first three months she remained on the field as a reserve and protector of the camp, after which she only performed healing magic on those who desperately needed quick aid. Elisabeth refused once more to return to her hometown, saying she would go back only with her husband, be he dead or alive, for she did not want him to die alone and far from the warmth of the world. They did not force her this time, because their division had so far suffered not a single defeat. Everyone was speaking of the day when they would charge into a bigger army of this so called “necromancer” and see if all of his soldiers were barbaric numbskulls. Unfortunately, that day arrived all too soon.
It was the beginning of the fourth year of the war against the dark invaders when the division became one with the ground. Nearly all of the troops were murdered, with only those in the infirmaries remaining. The few captives were given the choice by the victorious general: join Malfear or serve him. The first would mean to bend the knee and turn into a necromancer, a servant of darkness, a devil within a mortal body. The second would sentence one to death, only to be risen back as a mindless corpse puppeteered by a necromancer. Both Rakesh and Elisabeth chose to live. It was for the sake of the other and for their unborn child. He took part in the ritual and crossed the black rivers of the other world, but she was pardoned because of her pregnancy and remained the same. Before the ritual, Rakesh blessed his child still in the womb, a blessing of heart only a parent could perform, one which transferred a piece of his light to his unborn son, which would potentially protect him from harm. 
Two months later, Elisabeth gave birth in the camps of death. Being a hydromancer and healer, she managed the delivery on her own, everything going smoothly, without a single problem. Her firstborn was a son, a little boy with dark hair and bright blue eyes. The father, who later came to see them, gave him the name “Ryan”, meaning “little king”, whilst the mother gave him the name “Skye”. The barbarian women, whom Elisabeth had befriended, were overjoyed with the new arrival and so was the mother, but the father had little room for joy in his heart. Thus far he had kept his sanity stable, resisting and fighting the whispers of darkness, but his emotions had faded because of this and he was cold and silent. Whenever he felt the sparks of happiness he only got reminded of the grim situation outside the room and how he would never be able to live the normal life he longed for. Yet his wife assured him that they would find a path that leads from the dark cassm they were trapped in to the light. With her words in mind, Rakesh left the camp and headed with the rest to war. 

The year passed quickly among the barbarian tribe. The ones at camp were mainly elders, women, children and several injured soldiers. Different they may have been, but both the barbarian women and Elisabeth were mothers and wives, facts which brought them closers. They had come to understand each other during her pregnancy and as a young mother the mage had much to learn. The tribe members taught her everything about motherhood, as well as various methods needed for survival. The camp itself kept moving continuously, which provided Eli with basic knowledge on building shelter from scratch. Albeit she could heal injuries, she learned various new facts about wild plants regarding edibility, herbs, poisons and the like. The majority of her time, however, she spent with her son, whom she taught how to walk and talk. Being together with one of her dear treasures brought her the greatest amount happiness and she only hoped her other one, the one on the battlefield, was safe. 
But the days of bubbling in an incomprehensible language with her little one were not to last forever. The boy had turned one year old and had long stopped nursing. Despite her appearance of a fragile mother, Elisabeth held a great amount of power and was seen as a valuable asset. Her water spells were nearing perfection and a healer was always needed somewhere. Thus she was told to pay for the mercy she was given with her own life. From all the possibilities she had to die, she saw this as the worst one. Not wishing to leave her son on the current of fate, she bowed her head and was taken to the ritual grounds, where she was turned into a necromancer. Her son was left unharmed and untouched, for he was far too young for any form of magic. The women of the barbarian tribe offered to take care of him while she was away, yet Elisabeth refused. She knew exactly what she was about to do, but it was impossible for her to separate with her child, thus the two departed for the war zones. They were placed in the same army as Rakesh, yet Elisabeth strived to avoid him and seldom allowed Skye to see him. From the day his son was born, rather than use the occasion to strengthen himself and search for a way out, the man had spiralled down into the depths of despair. He was being eaten away by madness and sorrow and had thus grown violent and cold. Seeing him in this pitiable state, the wife could do nothing for him other than escape him, since she knew the true Rakesh would hate to see his family suffer.
Half a year later, when Skye was a year and a half old, he and his mother were taken to the front lines with the kingdom of Ferros. This spelled suicide for many barbarians and potentially did for the both of them. He was the only child there and it was as plain as day that his place was not there. However, Elisabeth could not leave him behind with a stranger and it wasn’t only due to her maternal instinct. She had not fallen into the darkness and was with all of her sanity, but it had influenced her in a way that she developed an infatuation with her infant son, an obsession over his safety and being. She regularly snuck out of the battle just to be able to see him. This was necessary many times, since there was no one to truly take care of the boy. This obsession developed into a desperate need to escape, yet no matter in what direction she look, there was no possible exit. There were guards everywhere and beings that could suck the life right out of her. It was as if she was trapped in a bit black room with only her child, which she held close.

Fortunately, fate smiled upon them, as meekly as it could. During an intense battle with the Ferros army nearly everyone charged ahead, leaving enough space and time for Elisabeth and Skye to make haste and escape. From the depths of the night until high noon the mother ran deeper and deeper into the woods with her child in her hands, going higher and higher up the mountains. Three days passed and the only time they stopped was when the little one required it. Whatever food they managed to smuggle went only for him. Elisabeth cared not for her body, nor for her sleep. Her only goal was to run as far away as possible. Away from the Lowlands, where the battle was, away from the roads, where they could be found, away from the world itself. On the fourth day she finally stopped and looked behind her. There - a magnificent view of the mountains, stretching tall and wide like the backbone of a dragon, not a soul in sight. In her frantic running she had ventured into the heart of the forest, where no human or human-like foot dared to step. Finally taking a breath of relief, the woman began to search for a place to stay. It was only then that she realised how tired she was. Her feet were sore and aching everywhere and it was as if something was stabbing her back from all sides. Despite her body’s desperate pleas for rest, she marched forward. Another beam of light was to shine on her path for her efforts.
On the next day, she discovered an old house, where nobody lived. Built from the earth itself, with a thick roof made from branches and mud, it was stable and looked nothing like the rundown homes in the besieged cities. It had four rooms - three above ground and one below, which was almost as big as the others combined. Each had a purpose, simple as they may be. The first was a kitchen, with three wooden shelves, a table with two chairs and a few wooden boards. To the left were two doors, one leading to a bedroom and the other - to a room apparently used as a bathroom and toilet from time to time. The first mentioned had a single double bed, a little cabinet, an old wardrobe and a door in the floor. This door lead to the underground room, which was wide and housed numerous bookshelves full of books, as well as papers, old ink, a few unused candles and a table with four chairs. An odd old house it was, with spiderwebs and layers upon layers of dust. It owner Elisabeth met the very moment she stepped into the little meadow in front of it. A skeleton in dirty faded rags was resting its back against a big oak tree by the house whilst sitting down and as if enjoying the scenery of newly bloomed flowers. It was that of a woman and, as Elisabeth would learn from her diary placed on the table in the underground room, she was a geomancer, who had retreated into the forest after many years of serving her people and seeing her daughter die by their hands. She had built this house and filled it with books, which she would read in her time, and, in her final hours, left it to those who needed shelter from the cruel world. Elisabeth buried the skeleton under the oak tree and placed a stone there, on which she carved out the woman’s name and dates of birth and death, according to the diary. Every now and then she would pray at the grave or simply thank the woman in her mind for the kindness she has done.

Five years mother and son lived in that house. It was as if they were on an island, unreachable, unseeable, unnoticeable. A happy life of isolation it was. 
Of course, during the first year on their own, times were tough. Elisabeth used the diary to orientate in the forest and to find sources of fresh water and edible plants. She also had to learn how to hunt using her hydromancy, something she would have never considered in the past, but also how to disinfect and cut the raw meat. Her spirit had not yet been lost to the darkness and with the threat now gone, the madness of necromancy had no way of taking a hold of her. Only the fear for her son’s safety remained. Skye often got sick until he got used to the mountain’s climate. It was colder and damper than in the Lowlands and the winter had snow as high as the door itself, with freezing winds and biting frost. Fortunately, the geomancer had built the house in such a way that it was impossible for drafts to get in and the snow slid right off from the roof. The underground room never grew warmer or cooler on its own, for the earth’s temperature was a constant, thus Skye spent the majority of his time within it, which could not have been worse than trapping him in a cage.
By the age of two the little lad had already lost his bubbling and spoke eagerly and clearly. He knew many words and was curious to learn more, much like any child his age. His world, however, had grown smaller and smaller as time passed. His mother confined him to the house, only to the upper floor at first, but after he managed to open the door on his own and go out to see what she was up to, she put him in the underground room for a long time. At first he was quite lonely. He knew not how to read, nor write, although his mother had begun teaching him the letters. The books on the shelves were big and full of scribbles he could not understand and had not a single picture in them, apart from some flower or odd tree or shrub. His desire to learn was dire and it lead him to figuring out how to successfully climb up the stairs and once more go outside to his mother. This drove Elisabeth into a corner. The least she wanted to do was hurt her son’s development, but he was only two years old and the forest was still an unknown and scary place. Even one meter away from the house was dangerous in her mind. Thus she was met with a challenge. She had to find a way to keep her son indoors. There were only two locks and they were for the front door and below level room, but her conscience couldn’t handle the thought of her locking up her child, as if he were a monster. The only reasonable solution she thought of was being together with him until he ran out of energy and fell asleep. But then she was struck by another dilemma. He rarely slept in the afternoon and had boundless amounts of energy. How could she possibly tire him out? It was then that the idea of teaching him magic arose. At first, she dismissed it, knowing just how dangerous it was for anyone not yet of age to wield magic, however, it was an effective way of using up energy, as well as a protective measurement. If something came to attack him, at least he would be able to use a trick and get away or remain safe for a few seconds before she came rushing over. Just as she was against it, the mother was suddenly overwhelmed by all the possibilities of teaching. 
And so the lessons began. Along with the letters and new words, Elisabeth began teaching Skye what magic was, what it was used for and why people should only be good with magic. Of course, the information was presented in a simplistic manner, in order for Skye to understand, which he surprisingly did and quickly. Having no toys or other companions around, he was happy to be with his mother for all those long hours and absorbed every word she said. In no time he could say by heart what magic was, sing a few rhymes about the kindness of magic and could number down how many magic schools there were and what kind of magic they taught. The next step was to begin the lessons on one type of magic. Elisabeth chose healing, because it was the most sensible option. If he fell or hurt himself, he could use magic to get better, thus keep himself safe. Alas, Skye had no inner talent in healing magic. He understood what it was about, but could not manifest it. Healing came from the soul, from a defined personality, from a stable grown mind. It was not something Skye could comprehend, much like why he cried when he was sad or why mommy was outside, while he was inside. This slightly relieved the mother, thinking that it would perhaps be better if he remained normal, but she had already sparked an interest in magic within him and all day long he would only ask about it. The questions were so many, it was almost unbearable. As much as she disliked it, Elisabeth attempted to teach him hydromancy once, which surprisingly succeeded. The taste of success Skye found very sweet and it made him want to learn it as much as possible. The woman doubted her decision more and more as she saw how easily the words sunk into her son’s mind and how he tried lifting the water from the bowl, despite all of the times he failed. But whenever he managed to lift just one droplet up, he would grin and shout from happiness, saying “Moma, moma, look what I did!”. It made her proud and somehow full of warmth, so she continued the lessons. 

Days passed, seasons changed and both mother and son were getting proficient in their ventures.
The meadow in front of the house had turned into a fruit and herb garden. Elisabeth had worked long and hard to find and grow the right plants, which were necessary food sources. Her hunting had greatly improved and she was capable of using the water within an animal to take it down. This provided enough food on the table and healthy one at that. The house was clean and tidy, not a web or bug to be seen, and the three little windows shined with their cleanliness under the sun’s warm rays.
Skye, now six years of age, had improved over the past four years. He was able to read nicely, but rarely took up any of the books downstairs, for they were heavy and full of words he still could not properly comprehend on his own. His writing was on a child’s level - scribbly and not yet refined. Maths and numbers were still new to him, but he could add and subtract with numbers to one hundred and a bit above. In general, he was developing normally for a boy his age. He was allowed more often outside, but had to remain by his mother’s side at all times. This gave him the freedom to explore and quench his eternal thirst for knowledge only partly, for a small moment of time, before the questions start pouring out of his mouth. When it came to his magic, however, he could be on par with a fully fledged magician graduate.
Until the age of five and a half Skye was kept only indoors and very rarely allowed outside. After teaching him the pure basics of hydromancy and warning him several times to remember the scary stories she had told him about the bad bad magician, who did wrong with his magic, Elisabeth started leaving him alone while he was awake. As a child he was quite obedient and, left to his own devices and a bowl of water, Skye began a process of left-teaching by trial and error. When he was three, he made many mistakes, which made him angry, but rather than pout, he continued trying everything his mother told him. By the age of four the mistakes decreased rapidly. His main interest being magic, he could sit in front of the bowl of water for hours, which allowed Elisabeth to travel around the forest more in search of herbs and roots and even take a nap. Hard-working, but also stubborn, he wouldn’t leave his place until he got what he wanted right. Naturally, he caused trouble once or twice by spilling the water all over the room, but by the age of five his power stabilised completely and he was able to levitate water for as long as he wished, maintain its shape for as long as he wished, direct it exactly according to his will while pointing with his hands or fingers, taking water from the ground, plants, air, even his own hair after a bath, even freezing it for a few seconds. The more his skill developed, the less he wanted to be entertained by his mother. Whenever he was left alone, he never felt lonely, because there was always something fun he could do on his own. Magic amazed him and drove his fantasy crazy, prompting him to try new shapes, new moves and techniques. 
Elisabeth continued her supervising over his training, but as the years passed her lessons turned from hydromancy to lectures about not using magic for bad deeds, why magic is wonderful and why the world was a horrible place they had to hide from. Albeit she had been calm for a long period of time, on the inside the mother had grown frantic about being found out and her son suddenly deciding to venture outside her sight. This was the reason why she emphasised on never leaving without her permission, to which Skye thoughtlessly agreed. He had never been taught anything else and had no other say in the matter, but also didn’t have any idea about what could really be so frightening in the forest itself. All the stories his mother would tell him before bedtime would either be in a fantasy land far far away or in places she would describe as towns, fields, plains, castles and the like. If they were dangerous, he wouldn’t go there, but the forest was something he was eager to explore. With his power over magic he was sure he could go on a great adventure, like the heroes did in the stories, and come back unharmed.
His mother started to fulfill his wish little by little when he turned six years of age by taking him along on her daily walks in the forest. While he cared little about the flowers and the roots they would have to dig up from the ground, Skye was amazed by the size of the trees, by their shapes and by the many animals he saw. It was an entirely new field of learning. Albeit he was still not allowed to go on his own, his mother promised him that when he got older and better at hydromancy, she would allow it. This made the lad even more eager to excel at his studies. Reading and writing became minor subjects and all he cared about was doing his best to make his mother proud and see how good he was. A good boy, who was great at water spells, could go out on his own. His love for knowledge never died, though, but now he had another strengthening motive. For a short time he increased the duration of his ice magic, added to the power of his already learned attack skills and learned how to lift two bodies of water and do separate things with each of them. It required hard training, which strained his mind, but the inner desires kept whispering in his ear and he refused to back down. In no time, the strain started to decrease and he started working on the technique itself. 
Noticing how few breaks her son took, Elisabeth made sure to calm him down and explain that magic needed time and patience and that there was no need to hurry, because they had all the time in the world. It was unfortunate that such was not the case. 

It was the middle of summer, when Skye was six and a half years old. The sun was shining brightly in the mountains and there was not an ill omen in the sky foretelling of rain. The birds were happily jumping in the branches and the cicadas were singing their broken song high up in the tree tops. Both mother and son were in the garden, tending to the plants, when Elisabeth harshly shushed her child. The boy did not understand what he did wrong and started looking around himself, wondering what he could have messed up this time, and was taken by surprise when his mother grabbed him by the hand and took him inside. Once in the house, she locked the door behind her, but Skye was whining and complaining, saying that now his hand hurt and that he didn’t get to be outside enough today. The only response he got was his mother further hushing him and ordering him to stay quiet. His response was that of displease, but before he could voice it out, he heard footsteps from outside. This frightened him at first, but fear instantly turned into curiosity. He tried nearing the window as he heard further murmuring, yet was pulled away by his mother. Elisabeth took him to the underground floor and told him to be very quiet, because there were monsters outside. Skye was startled and shut himself up, however, when his mother decided to head back up, he began crying and begging her not to go. To this she smiled and assured him all would be alright. Her kindness and warmth made him feel at ease and he sat down on the chair, to read some pages she had written down for him in hydromagic. Skye was unaware how much time passed as he waited alone while reading under the candle’s light, but he could not hear a thing. The silence made him feel uncomfortable for the first time in his life, which he found irritable. He wanted to go up, but his mother had told him not to. On one hand, it seemed right for the hero to go and save her, but what if she didn’t need saving? The only thing he did was swing his legs in the air in frustration. This lasted until he finally heard the abrupt opening of the door and the footsteps down the stairs. Turning around, he didn’t even have time to jump from his seat to greet the newcomers before he was surrounded by strange-looking people. They were tall, with hair on their faces and dressed in what he recalled his mother had described as armor, but some were made of leather and others - of steel. The situation puzzled him quite, but the guards were equally speechless. They had fought a stray mage just now and expected to find some secret experiment, but found a boy instead. Two of them took the boy upstairs and calmly questioned him, however, Skye was too startled to speak. After a bit of patient persuasion, he told them his name and that he and his mother had been living here since forever. Figuring that they could have been mistaken about capturing the woman by force and that this child knew nothing, if there ever was anything at all, the soldiers decided to take him outside to his mother and wait to see the results of the investigation in the underground room. This would prove to be a vital mistake. Without saying much, they took the boy outside, but when Elisabeth, who had been restrained by other soldiers, saw her son with those men, she instantly thought they were going to take him away. Without waiting to listen to what they had to say, she snapped. All the frustration and fear built up over the years engulfed her on spot and her darkness took control. Using her necromancy powers, she summoned the dead geomancer and made her into a puppet. Recognising on sight just what they were dealing with, all of the soldiers, some of which were actually mages, took their positions and attacked their enemy. Skye was pulled away by one of the healers, so that he wouldn’t see what was about to be done.

Elisabeth was killed on sight for her crimes, being a necromancer and killing two Ferronian soldiers. Her body was burned and the geomancer’s skeleton - reburied. The guards were on the verge of taking the head of the boy as well, but the healer confirmed he found no traces of darkness within him, thus he was merely an innocent child. Seeing as they couldn’t leave a defenceless lad in the middle of the mountain, a small group of soldiers escorted him back to their post. The healer who had protected him attempted to explain what had happened, but failed to do so properly. Skye didn’t truly need much explaining to, though. He knew his mother was dead and didn’t see anything wrong with it, once he put all the pieces together. From the vague words the mage had told him, something had possessed his mother’s body and it wouldn’t allow her to take it back. Skye believed this, because from what he could see before being taken away and from what he could hear, that was not his mother, because his mother was a caring and sensible person, and that was a roaring mindless beast. What helped him not feel sad were the stories Elisabeth had told him about what happens after death, how the soul travels up into the sky and goes into a kingdom of light. Despite being a child, Skye had noticed how tired his mother constantly was. If it had come to it, he thought there had been nothing wrong in what had happened. 
Whilst still on the road to the post, the young boy easily started a conversation with the group. He had an infinite number of questions that required an answer and through the conversation the members of the party also gathered information on his background, which they would use in their reports. Nobody even suspected that the child knew magic, until they stopped for a drink and he took some water right out of the bottle and chomped it right out of the air. This fact amazed them and, by the time they reached the post, they were astounded by how skilled a kid his age was. The healer even felt a bit overshadowed, but the discovery of this young talent prompted him to write to his higher-ups as quickly as possible. Skye spent the next week at the post, which was like a cross between a small camp and a town. Everyone was interested in seeing the bizarre forest boy and hearing his story, but he was just as eager to learn about them and what their lives were like. After a brief exchange of letters, it was decided that the boy should be sent to the capital for further examination. 
Skye traveled for a week through the mountain passes, which he considered his first big adventure. He felt like the little bear from the story of the two brother bears who searched for the place where the lights touched the earth. He saw and remembered many new things and could finally give shape to many of the words he knew, such as town, castle, horse, pig, dog, carriage, sword and so on. It had been half a year since Malfear had been slain and the world was slowly building itself up back to normal.
The city seat of the kingdom was like nothing the boy had ever seen before. Tall buildings, bridges and waterfalls. It was as if he had entered a fairy tale. He was taken directly into the inner city and passing through the gates under the enormous stone walls made him realize just how small he actually was. Many people on the street had also stopped to stare at him, which made him realize he somehow looked different from them. This was only natural, because most Ferronians were fair in general, while he had dark hair and striking blue eyes, a mixture not commonly seen among their people. Skye had gotten a better haircut and new clothes before arriving at the capital, but he was further cleaned and given formal clothes at the residence of the healer magician, who had escorted him all the way. Initially, the youngster did not understand what this was all about and complained about how tight and restricting the collars and ties were. In a foreign place, among unknown people, with his mother no longer around meant there was no one to command him anymore, but, fortunately for everyone else, he piped down since he wanted to learn what this place was first-hand. The mage had explained to him time and time again that the test would be harmless and that the only thing he would need to do was show the people he would meet what he would do. The idea had pecked on Skye’s mind during the entire journey. Thousands of possibilities were running through his mind. The way he saw it, he had to perform in front of a crowd and displaying his skill was something that brought him joy. Even if the people wouldn’t like him, he knew he was good at hydromancy, since that was what his mother repeated time and time again. 
After a day’s rest at the healer’s residence, Skye was taken to an enormous, from his perspective, building and into a large oval room, in one half of which there were rows and rows of seats placed on levels, so that everyone present could see, and in the other - illuminated space with two large glass tubs of water. The healer lead the boy between the two tubs and told him to wait for permission before he could start. Although he felt at ease at first, the moment the mage went and sat in the group, Skye felt overwhelmed. It was as if someone had splashed him with a bucket of water in the face. He was nervous, stared at and feeling awkward in the tight clothes. A minute or so passed in silence and, against the norm, Skye actually calmed himself down. He decided to simply stare right back at the people and what he found by looking at their faces one by one was that they were all grandpas or just old adults, nothing like the younger men he had seen before. This helped him loosen up, since he thought that people who were too old couldn’t perform magic, which meant that this wasn’t some test as the healer had described it, but a show for amazement, just as he had thought. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a man with a tall hat, who told him he may begin. Skye responded with a cheerful “Alright!” and instantly started taking water from both tubs simultaneously. Using his hands he directed the two streams of water around himself, one on each side, slowly and then suddenly made them twirl around him faster until they reached a point above him where they combined together to create the giant head of a snake, which opened its mouth and spit out two balls of water, which became fish-shaped and headed towards the crowd, before suddenly parting and heading back into the body of water. Skye made the snake slide a couple of times in the form of the symbol of infinity, freezing its body for fractions of a second at the points where the lines crossed. Then he returned the water in both tubs and started talking multiple small portions of them, until he had six balls of water floating in the air. He then gave these random balls the shape of birds, which were sent flying above the crowd, frozen and then shattered into pieces of snow that fell down upon the spectators. After these two tricks, Skye started freely explaining he could make all sorts of other shapes, like tornadoes, animals, and so on, giving a small demonstration of each. By the end of the demonstration he became so talkative in boasting about himself he couldn’t even stop and he had to be halted by the same magician with the tall hat, who easily took the water from his control and put it back in its rightful place. Skye and the healer magician were then told to return to the residence and wait for further instructions. The following day it was declared that the necromancer woman’s son was to be given mercy, for he was pure and innocent, and was to be adopted into the Archmagician’s family, becoming his adoptive son. Skye could not picture what an adoptive family would be like, but threw no tantrums about it. So long as he was allowed to stay in this magical place, he was fine with anything.
An official naming ceremony was held in the palace, where the little magician met his new family for the first time. The man with the tall hat had turned out to be the Archmage himself. A stoic strong man he was, as big as the mountains he was raised in, with blond hair, short beard and sharp icy eyes, which scanned the perimeter coldly, but seemed to have a different spark when looking at his wife and new son. His wife was almost his complete opposite. Short, petite, with curly ginger hair and an attitude to match, she loved to talk and couldn’t hold herself back from pinching the little boy’s cheeks and asking him about his strange life in the forest. Just like how this new world was an interesting mystery to Skye, so was the heart of forest to this bubbly woman, who listened keenly to everything he had to say. The couple had only one son, a young fair boy of age sixteen, who aspired to become a guardian, rather than a magician, for he fancied the sword more than the book. His father was not at all pleased with this decision of his and Skye outright laughed at it when they introduced each other. That was the start of their spiteful relationship, but that wasn’t the only offstart he had. That very night he was introduced to The Queen, a young lady almost sixteen years of age. After the official introduction, Skye was told to kiss her hand, but rather than that, he stood up, looked at her with his playful blue eyes and asked:
“So, you’re the queen?”
“Yes, I am indeed, Ryan of house Blaumond.”
“... But you’re ugly.”
The entire room was instantly filled with dead silence, as if lightning had struck the place. The first to break this uneasy tension was the loud laugh of the Archmage’s wife, who couldn’t keep it in much longer. It was not entirely a lie he spoke, for the queen was still going through puberty, one of the hardest times for every girl, and had to wear plenty of makeup to hide the imperfections of her age. The excessive amount she was wearing that night almost made her look like a clown, but after the boy’s words, she turned as red as an apple.
“H-How rude! I can have you head for that!”
“So you’re admitting it! Hahaha.” Skye laughed.
The young queen made no further comebacks and simply ran out of the room, redder than a blooming poppy flower.
This scene caused several people to murmur ill words about the boy, but there was more chuckling than disapproval. It was merely a childish play, nothing more. The flame-haired lively woman, Cherilyn Blaumond, also had a say in the calming in the atmosphere, of course, not only with her exuberant nature, but also with her authority as one of the head guardians of Ferros and second in the queen’s guard. With their backtoughts behind them, everyone officially accepted the lad as a member of the Blaumond family and continued their partying in the night.
 
Two weeks later, Skye was enrolled in a hydromancy school at the capital, where he learned more about general subjects than magic itself, since he was already ahead with the material. Because of this, he only spent two and a half years there, until the age of nine, when it was confirmed he could be dubbed a true hydromancer. However, he wasn’t content with that and the offer to further develop his skills. From the age of nine to fourteen, a total of five years, he studied at an airomancy school, where he studied his father’s art that came to him naturally, general studies such as literature and math and also took extra courses aside from school in hydromancy, in order to polish both types of magical skills.

For the total of those eight years Skye changed dramatically, much like all children do.
The first year he was a relatively obedient child, who listened carefully to what his adoptive parents told him whenever they saw or wrote to him. Both head guardian and Archmage were important positions, which didn’t provide much spare time for family affairs, but the boy regularly snuck around to meet Cherilyn, who would first half-scold him for doing so and then laugh away some time, before shooing him away in a childish manner. This created a friendly bond between them and made Skye see her not as a mother, but as an accomplice, a chattery friend he could talk to. The people at the hydromancy school were all much older than him and Brandon, his “brother”, pretended to not even know him, which Skye happily played along with, because he didn’t want to get associated with him either. Diligent in his studies and confident about learning more, his days were spent in practice or alone in his dorm room, which were not at all lonely days for him, but rather the beginning of his chase for magic.
From the second year onwards his attitude towards almost everyone evolved even further. While he was still interested in learning, he stopped addressing his teachers in honorifics, grinned and pointed out their mistakes during lessons and barely paid attention in class. Of course, such was not the case in all subjects, but when he started doing so in magic class, it gradually transferred over to the rest. His father, whom he rarely saw, he still treated with respect and was a bit reserved with him, yet the two had a secret method of communication. With their eyes they teased and pointed out the individuals they would soundlessly comment on by different sparks in their gaze and would even later indirectly mention during hydromancer “check-ups”. His mother was a free spirit as ever and the two became closer with their gags and jokes. Brandon gradually had enough of their shenanigans and started commenting on Skye’s bad behavior, attempting to bully him, but was teased and mocked by the younger boy himself, defeats he had to bitterly swallow. He was completely against the loose method his parents were using on him, a contrast to the stern upbringing he had had, and even begged his father not to let the “runt” study airmancy. And it was not without reasoning.
Going to airmancy school was one of the best moments of Skye’s life, an entirely new chapter, in fact. The first two years were long and hard on him, as he had to learn an entirely new type of magic, but the genes and blessing he had received from his father aided him greatly in his development. Once he got through the basics, everything else was a breeze. Controlling air allowed him to fly, a skill he adored and used every day. It allowed him to explore all of the nooks and crannies of the school and city, giving him a full perspective of the huge cloudy world he called home. He even went as far as to fly to the castle gardens, where he would see the young queen, tease her and then fly off before being caught. This behavior the queen greatly disliked, yet oddly did not give out any form of punishment, namely because she secretly liked having a friend over so often, even if that “friend” was an annoying pain. The two maintained a stable blunt relationship, where both would be unreservedly honest with each other, but while the queen would keep her dignity and pose while sending her remarks, Skye would casually comment on anything he considered a favorable topic, paying no mind as to how he spoke, dressed or behaved in front of the head of the country. 

His antics started getting slightly serious as he entered his thirteenth year and was on puberty’s door. It was then that he was consumed by thoughts on the world, his purpose and belonging, a normal phase everyone went through. He would shut himself in his room for days, only attending classes and meals and then going back in, before he came out for a few days, acting cheerful and carefree, before repeating everything again. This cycle of asking himself the eternal questions abruptly ended by the time he was fourteen, when he reached a not so normal conclusion.
[i]‘There is the moon and the sun. The angels and demons. Euros and Meros. Euros placed us in between it all, in other words, we can’t live without light and darkness... Then why the heck do those hypocrites say war is bad? If we follow this line of thinking, war is awesome!’[/i]
Indeed, he came upon this thought rather suddenly, but in his mind it all made sense. Humans were driven by their emotions and instincts, they built up pressure from the strain of their daily lives and require to let all the negative energy out of their systems. Those were the reasons for crimes such as murder, beatings, rape and the like. Humans needed to vent every once in awhile, because they are finite imperfect creatures of complex intellectual and emotional structure.This made war all the more positive. It offered a field on which both intellect and force could release their agitation and display their skill. The brutes could fight on the battlegrounds. The thinkers could create brilliant strategies. The winners would prove themselves better and weed out the losers, who could only give birth to losers. It was a plus for the species as a whole. Such was Skye’s theory and one he believes in to this very day. From the moment he realized war had true benefits, other than the spoils from raids, all of his worries were calmed and all of the questions - answered. He knew he wished to be an elite magician, free from all the restrictions those people of the Tower created and any from anyone else as well. He wished for his soul to be free and to take his place on the balancing scale of harmony. Since causing terror and upheaval seemed a lot funner and free than the peace-loving white humble party that wanted a set restricted order, he made his choice. Someone had to add some spice in the boring peaceful stale soup the world had become and that someone was going to be him. It should be noted that he had and still has on the back of his mind the reminder that too much spice can potentially ruin the dish, thus he does not wave his flag for the total annihilation of the world or the absolute conquest of demons against angels and humanity, but aims for the equilibrium between good and evil, with his “modest” contribution to one of the two sides.
By thinking in this manner, Skye grew sharper, more teasing, sarcasting and with a love to cause a bit of discord. To him it was all a game of scales, which he loved to win whenever possible. All of his views he shared only with his adoptive father, who did not scorn him for his ideals. On the contrary, he agreed with him and pointed at one of the targets he should be aiming at - Valeal. The history Skye had been taught at school was naturally from Ferros’ point of view, meaning he had a natural distaste for the neighboring kingdom, and the thought of pushing such a large country out of the leader’s seat was a tempting topic to think about. Several times he was taken along with older magicians and guardians to ward off mages from the Tower, whose base was in the capital of the traitorous kingdom, as well as rumored preacher from the Order of the Rose, whom they pushed back to whence they came. These travels during the breaks were not only for the gaining of experience, but also a chance for his seniors and teachers to examine his performance on the field. Their reports praised his skill and ingenuity, but warned and were even alarmed by his grin and apparent enjoyment of battle. They even noted that he wasn’t trying to chase the people away, he was going for the kill. This information spread like wildfire among the members of the Archmage’s court, the tutors and other members of higher magician society, but the Archmage himself was unphased by it. The only remark he made to Skye in private was to attempt to conceal his expressions, because foolish people could not understand this form of entertainment. The boy took the words seriously, but failed in utilizing the advice given. He couldn’t help feeling happy about winning and grinning as he defeated the enemy.

At the age of fourteen Skye graduated from airomancy school. He was deemed an airomancer and one of the few dual-wielders ever reached such a level at a young age. The graduation ceremony caused more murmurings among the members of the different high courts. A boy taken from the forest had risen to such heights. Indeed he was talented, the more passionate even calling him a genius, but his personality combined with his power were a combination many distrusted. He had grown to have no proper manners and barely used any formal speech, held no respect for his elders and did whatever he wished. It was high time someone showed him his place, but no one had taken up the challenge. The Archmage was far too busy to deal with either of his sons, Mrs. Bleumond had far too many duties to attend to as an elite guardian, Brandon failed every time to make a comeback and the teachers had no control over him. The last hope was the Queen, but even she didn’t bring up the question of punishing him. According to her it was “refreshing to have someone not put a mask on their face”, which cast even greater suspicion on what she might be planning. The moment she declared he would be a part of her court of magicians, the whispering seemed to get louder. The queen or someone else had plans for that child or, the worst case scenario, the “forest boy” had plans for all of them.

After graduation Skye spent two years, from age fourteen to sixteen, in an advanced hydromancy and airomancy course, perfecting his spells. However, one year into it he found it boring and unnecessary. He was thirsty for battle or at least for a new form of knowledge. Since his “explorations” in the capital, which ended with injuries of civilians and damaged buildings, eventually got on the Archmage’s nerves, he put him in a research team that would seek out and develop modern magic. All was calm for a few months as Skye was quite interested on finding the mistakes in formulas and learning how to correct and refine magic. Alas, he couldn’t keep still for long and the underground labs soon became places he detested, for they were dark, smelled and were full of old men who needed to shout at each other, in order to hear what was being said. In attempt to completely fill in his son’s time, the Archmage decided to put him in geomancy school. Learning how to control the earth was a long, hard, straining process, he knew and was sure that would consume the boy. Unfortunately, it only made him protest and complain on how stupid and slow it was. Skye had lost a good portion of his patience long ago, because everything thus far had come to him naturally. He had forgotten his initial struggles with hydromancy and did not remember a time when he couldn’t control magic properly. Airomancy had had its difficulties, but what he had been passed down by his biological father had made it a lot easier and he had gotten at least some positive results. Geomancy gave him nothing for the six months he lasted in that school. The long lectures about how wonderful the earth was were irritable and repetitive, perhaps crazy and maniacal to some degree.
That is why at the age of sixteen years Skye was placed in pyromancy school. Learning how to control fire was amazing in his eyes and even fitted his personality, in his opinion. The element was hard to control, but mesmerizing enough to keep him interested. What he ofttimes got angry about, however, was that due to his initial element being water and his biological mother being a hydromancy, fire was proving to be more difficult for him, just like the few other students who already knew hydromancy. This didn’t stop him from studying, however, because fire was an active and free element, unlike the grounded slow earth.

Now at the age of eighteen, Skye is a grown magician of the Queen’s court, albeit he can not yet be called mature. Due to the research he had to carry out, the elite classes and practice for hydromancy and airomancy, the Valarian question and his own personal hobbies and desires, he is not yet capable of using pyromancy on the field, albeit he can create unstable fireballs and evaporate water. His personality is that of a trickster, a thinker and schemer, but can not be called foolish or senseless, despite his unwillingness to act proper and honorable. He has not abandoned his views on the world and his place in it and is more than glad to cause some trouble “for the sake of future happiness”.
When it comes to guardians, the only one he doesn’t consider thoughtless is his adoptive mother Cherilyn Blaumond. The rest he considers scoundrels, oafs who had neither the mind, nor thought to thoroughly study magic, so they took the sword instead. He mocks them and even plays tricks on them when they aren’t looking, such as making the ground under them icy so they could slip or making air around them noisy so they could argue who let it out. Their quarrels entertain him when he has nothing better to do. 
As for the Queen, he no longer teases her like a child, but doesn’t hold back on remaking some of her flaws. The two of them fancy pointing out various mistakes of generally everyone, making it look as though they are gossiping. Romantic thoughts have never crossed his mind about her, because his passion only lies in magic and war.
[/hider]

[center][b]|| Spells ||[/b]

[u]Hydromancy[/u]
[Active]
The level of Skye's hydromancy is considered that of an elite. This is largely due to one of parents being a hydromancer, the age he started learning magic and the many years he spent in perfecting it.
His skill are a wide range of water manipulation in liquid, aero and solid form. While he is able to liquify water from the air, creating vapor is a harder task, yet passing between water and ice is no problem for him. 
Water constructs are no burden either, his favorite being cat-like beings.
When it comes to the water within living beings, the level of his manipulation varies. Plants, fungi and animals are not too troublesome, yet controlling the water within humans takes a great amount of concentration.

[u]Aeromancy[/u]
[Active]
The level of Skye's aeromancy is considered to be professional, perhaps even that of a master, but not of an elite. The lack of problems he had while learning this form of magic is due to his other parent being an aeromancer and the blessing that parent performed on him.
From the many spells he is capable of performing, Skye loves combining his aeromancy with is knowledge in chemistry by taking different gasses and creating explosions from their collision. Under the qualification of "explosions" is lightning, one of his personal preferences. 
Flight is something he has come to truly master and uses on a daily basis.

[u][s]Pyromancy[/s][/u]
[Inactive; Still in the process of learning]
[/center]