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“I don't know where I'm going, but it's not back.”
Tella Lecta Lumia
24
Female
The Imperial Sea
Sun (Fire)
Tella's skill in using aether is fairly weak compared to many others her age, and certainly worse than most others who trained for six years in the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets, then four years in the Imperial Naval Academy. She was never very good at using it, so she mostly ignored it, dismissing it as a weakness that could be compensated for by her other strengths. Though she's been working to remedy this in recent times, she's still fairly unskilled. Competent enough to not be called a novice by any stretch, but certainly not enough to be called skillful.
What command she does have is almost strictly offensive in nature, though it does carry a few additional benefits. Her principle usage of it is to enhance her expertise in swordplay, though there are a handful of other uses she's found and basic pyrokinetic powers such as lighting campfires or burning ropes.
In addition, she has the peculiar talent to manipulate her own body temperature. While it's not exceptionally useful much of the time, it has its niche on the open seas, and it's most definitely saved her life on at least one occasion.
What command she does have is almost strictly offensive in nature, though it does carry a few additional benefits. Her principle usage of it is to enhance her expertise in swordplay, though there are a handful of other uses she's found and basic pyrokinetic powers such as lighting campfires or burning ropes.
- Blade-Conjuring - Far and away her most advanced technique and the only one that could be classed as skillful, Tella practices this regularly in order to maintain some level of consistency in it. With a flick of the wrist, she conjures a short blade made of solidified flames into her offhand, switching fluidly from a one-handed duelist's stance to one more fitting of a sword and long dagger. She can also throw the blade, which to her is functionally weightless; it maintains its form until she ceases concentrating on it, at which point it disappears in a flash of light.
- Sword-Wreathing - Much simpler than her Blade-Conjuring is the basic ability to surround her sword with an aura of fire. While not much more powerful on a base level, it allows her to also project the fire a little ways away with a strike, extending her reach and causing painful, if superficial, burns. It also has a not-insignificant effect on the thought processes of an opponent; a sword spontaneously lighting on fire is certainly cause for some consternation.
- Flame-Casting - The most basic of the combat techniques at Tella's disposal, this is exactly what it sounds like. She can project motes of flame, or a fast, narrow stream. As her skill is lacking, she can't keep it up for very long, and the flames are fairly weak. But, as with Sword-Wreathing, it is excellent for superficial burns and distraction.
In addition, she has the peculiar talent to manipulate her own body temperature. While it's not exceptionally useful much of the time, it has its niche on the open seas, and it's most definitely saved her life on at least one occasion.
Tella has much to think about right now, and it's not hard to tell. Though for much of her life she carried an intense conviction with her, manifesting in an easy, almost arrogant confidence, this has been shaken if not completely shattered of late, resulting in an existential dread and a terrible lack of purpose. The burden of expectation from her instructors that once weighed heavily upon her has been replaced with an expectation that she burdens herself with, and heavily. Owing largely to that expectation, but also due to the haughtiness that once dominated her, she was never the most smiley of women. Now, she doesn't talk much, other than to give cursory responses, though she's very polite when she does.
All of that is fairly surface-level: the look on her face, the set of her shoulders, her silence, and the troubled air around her. But any more than a cursory examination will additionally reveal a strangling undertow of confusion that runs just under the surface, pulling her along with it. She is hesitant to make quick decisions much of the time, expressing a great deal of doubt in her ability to choose the right path unless she has a great deal of time to think it out and weigh her options.
But further beneath it all—beneath the pressing self-doubt, beneath the weight of the shattered shards of her confidence, beneath the confusion of what she should do and where she should go now, beneath the distracted hush, beneath the expectations that she burdens herself with—she is still the same Tella that once sparred with naval officers and soldiers, pushed herself to the point of breaking and beyond, and pulled through the Naval Academy with flying colors. And in moments of extreme stress, the questions that she spends so much time thinking about silence themselves and she is fully in the moment, making snap decisions like she was born to, pushing herself past any expectations that she puts on herself, and showing the steel-hard resolve that still forms the very core of who she is.
All of that is fairly surface-level: the look on her face, the set of her shoulders, her silence, and the troubled air around her. But any more than a cursory examination will additionally reveal a strangling undertow of confusion that runs just under the surface, pulling her along with it. She is hesitant to make quick decisions much of the time, expressing a great deal of doubt in her ability to choose the right path unless she has a great deal of time to think it out and weigh her options.
But further beneath it all—beneath the pressing self-doubt, beneath the weight of the shattered shards of her confidence, beneath the confusion of what she should do and where she should go now, beneath the distracted hush, beneath the expectations that she burdens herself with—she is still the same Tella that once sparred with naval officers and soldiers, pushed herself to the point of breaking and beyond, and pulled through the Naval Academy with flying colors. And in moments of extreme stress, the questions that she spends so much time thinking about silence themselves and she is fully in the moment, making snap decisions like she was born to, pushing herself past any expectations that she puts on herself, and showing the steel-hard resolve that still forms the very core of who she is.
From the very beginning, Tella's life was one of privilege. The only child of the wandering trader Sohge Lumia and Lecta Tilme, only scion of a vast mercantile empire in Galma, she was incredibly spoilt and rarely ever heard the word 'no.' From a very young age, it was taken for granted that she would eventually take over her mother's family business and carry on the Tilme legacy of merchants. But as she aged, she began to feel...uncomfortable. Constrained. Shackled. Though she had everything she asked for, there was something missing. And only when she was out with Sohge and caught sight of an Imperial Navy vessel disembarking did she realize what it was.
Her parents were aghast when she told them at a very young age that she planned to enter the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets and forbade it immediately. But she would not be dissuaded. She insisted. Day in and day out. And her parents, spoiling her even then, eventually caved. They would pay her way through the Academy for Future Cadets. They would even finance her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, if it came to that. As long as she was ready to do that for life.
As a child, she didn't recognize the veiled threat behind it. And as she aged and went through her six years of education in the IFAFC, especially later on, as she developed more physically, she began to feel a fierce pride that she would one day be part of so noble a cause. The entitlement of a child of massive wealth turned to the confidence of someone who felt that she had truly found her place in the world.
When she left the Academy for Future Cadets, though, her parents made good on their veiled threat, delivering unto the now nominally adult Tella an ultimatum. They would pay her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, as they'd promised. They had so much money now they had little else to do with it. But if afterwards, she committed to the Navy—if she chose that path over their own mercantile empire—then she was a Lumia no longer. A keen sense of betrayal and anger poured through her, and she narrowed her eyes at them. They treated her like the twelve year old that had entered the prospective cadet's Academy still. And then turned, and marched to her new Academy.
After four years, she graduated, and entered the Navy proper. By this point, she was a hardline Imperial zealot. The rest of the world was ignorant, and they needed to be civilized and enlightened by the Empire. They would thank them eventually. And Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best, and a threat to life at worst, if they woke up something deep down that shouldn't be woken. People that shouldn't be allowed to live. Expansionist. Arrogant. And skillful enough in martial combat to back up any threat she made. So did her parents, cutting her off permanently from the family fortune. But she cared little, twenty-two years old and flush with pride as she sailed on her first mission as a true member of the Navy, to the Frozen Sea.
It was to be her last as well.
In the depths of the Sea, their ship was suddenly smashed to bits as the Frozen Sea Leviathan assaulted this intruder to its domain. Thrown into the icy waters—without her armor on, luckily—only Tella's strange ability to increase her body temperature saved her from an agonizing death immediately. And she would have died regardlesss, if the Diver vessel the Dragon's Tooth hadn't pulled her nigh-unconscious body out of the water and taken her to Windkeep to nurse her back to health. Tella's mind, already shaken by the loss of not only the ship, but the entire crew, was deeply confused. Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best and a threat to life at worst. Yet here she was, still alive. And all thanks to Divers. And the strict orthodoxy of the Empire—its rules, its strictures, its edicts and expansions—suddenly seemed to fit too tightly.
Desperate to repay the captain, she offered her unconditional services to him. To repay him not only for saving her life, but for all that the Imperials had said about Divers. She served him as a crewmember for three months, and found herself, against all odds, finding a dim enjoyment in life as a Diver, and the freedom it offered. But little enough, still broken as she was. Working in the great Diver's Guild city of Makrus for many months, she was eventually allowed to set off with a crew. She still felt the cloying guilt, still felt the need to give recompense to Divers. But more than that, she craved the manual labor that came with it. The repetitive tasks cut her mind free to think. She had a lot to think about. And she would have plenty of time to think about it on the Sharkfin.
Her parents were aghast when she told them at a very young age that she planned to enter the Imperial Fleet Academy for Future Cadets and forbade it immediately. But she would not be dissuaded. She insisted. Day in and day out. And her parents, spoiling her even then, eventually caved. They would pay her way through the Academy for Future Cadets. They would even finance her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, if it came to that. As long as she was ready to do that for life.
As a child, she didn't recognize the veiled threat behind it. And as she aged and went through her six years of education in the IFAFC, especially later on, as she developed more physically, she began to feel a fierce pride that she would one day be part of so noble a cause. The entitlement of a child of massive wealth turned to the confidence of someone who felt that she had truly found her place in the world.
When she left the Academy for Future Cadets, though, her parents made good on their veiled threat, delivering unto the now nominally adult Tella an ultimatum. They would pay her way through the Imperial Naval Academy, as they'd promised. They had so much money now they had little else to do with it. But if afterwards, she committed to the Navy—if she chose that path over their own mercantile empire—then she was a Lumia no longer. A keen sense of betrayal and anger poured through her, and she narrowed her eyes at them. They treated her like the twelve year old that had entered the prospective cadet's Academy still. And then turned, and marched to her new Academy.
After four years, she graduated, and entered the Navy proper. By this point, she was a hardline Imperial zealot. The rest of the world was ignorant, and they needed to be civilized and enlightened by the Empire. They would thank them eventually. And Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best, and a threat to life at worst, if they woke up something deep down that shouldn't be woken. People that shouldn't be allowed to live. Expansionist. Arrogant. And skillful enough in martial combat to back up any threat she made. So did her parents, cutting her off permanently from the family fortune. But she cared little, twenty-two years old and flush with pride as she sailed on her first mission as a true member of the Navy, to the Frozen Sea.
It was to be her last as well.
In the depths of the Sea, their ship was suddenly smashed to bits as the Frozen Sea Leviathan assaulted this intruder to its domain. Thrown into the icy waters—without her armor on, luckily—only Tella's strange ability to increase her body temperature saved her from an agonizing death immediately. And she would have died regardlesss, if the Diver vessel the Dragon's Tooth hadn't pulled her nigh-unconscious body out of the water and taken her to Windkeep to nurse her back to health. Tella's mind, already shaken by the loss of not only the ship, but the entire crew, was deeply confused. Divers were cutthroat mercenaries at best and a threat to life at worst. Yet here she was, still alive. And all thanks to Divers. And the strict orthodoxy of the Empire—its rules, its strictures, its edicts and expansions—suddenly seemed to fit too tightly.
Desperate to repay the captain, she offered her unconditional services to him. To repay him not only for saving her life, but for all that the Imperials had said about Divers. She served him as a crewmember for three months, and found herself, against all odds, finding a dim enjoyment in life as a Diver, and the freedom it offered. But little enough, still broken as she was. Working in the great Diver's Guild city of Makrus for many months, she was eventually allowed to set off with a crew. She still felt the cloying guilt, still felt the need to give recompense to Divers. But more than that, she craved the manual labor that came with it. The repetitive tasks cut her mind free to think. She had a lot to think about. And she would have plenty of time to think about it on the Sharkfin.
- A standard-issue Imperial saber that rarely leaves her side. Almost unused in the fashion that the Imperials intended for it to be used, but occasionally used in her time as a pseudo-Diver to fend off roving pirates or overcurious creatures.
- A knife kept behind her belt as a basic tool, and a weapon of last resort. She typically doesn't use it in her offhand, preferring Blade-Conjuring for that purpose. Very useful as a utility knife when underwater.
- An expensive sapphire earring given to her by her parents for her tenth birthday. As much as she could sell it for, it's the one remnant of her childhood that she can't bear to part with.
- A simple rebreather. Secondhand and obviously repaired multiple times, but serviceable nonetheless. She purchased it with her rapidly dwindling money in Makrus. Essentially required to work as a Diver.
Nearly everything else she had on her, all the expensive trappings that she'd retained and gleaming Imperial affects, she either lost in the catastrophic crash, gave in gratitude and regret to the captain of the Dragon's Tooth, or pawned off in Makrus to afford a slightly nicer living situation.
