Ametheia Zephyr
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Full Name - Ametheia Zephyr
Chosen Name - Ametheia
Age - 325
Appearing Age - 25
Height - 5'7
Weight - 130lbs
Hair - Platinum white
Eyes -Blossom Pink
Skin - Light porcelain
Race - Elven with Draconic Blood
Gender - Female
Father - Emperor Adonis Zephyr (Deceased)
Mother - Empress Lyra Zephyr (Deceased)
Siblings-
Twin Brother: Emperor Daemon Zephyr
Legacy - None
Marital Status - Single
Titles -
Healer to Royal Family of Kormista
Princess Of Drakoria
Distinguishable Traits- White like hair, subtle scar across her neck, ears are uniquely shaped and tinged crimson at the tips from her draconic bloodline.
Voice- British accent
Abilities
-Healing Hands-
Amatheia's touch possesses an innate healing energy. Whether tending to battlefield wounds or soothing the pains of everyday life, her hands emit a comforting warmth that accelerates the healing of physical and emotional wounds.
-Revitalizing Elixirs-
A skilled alchemist, Amatheia concocts potent elixirs that boost vitality and resilience. Her brews are renowned for their efficacy, and she often shares her knowledge with aspiring healers.
-Warding Spells-
Amatheia employs enchantments to create protective wards that shield individuals or entire areas. These wards serve as a sanctuary, deflecting malevolent forces and safeguarding the vulnerable.
-Fire Wielding-
Ametheia possesses the rare and powerful ability to wield fire, an extraordinary gift that manifests sporadically within her bloodline. This unique talent allows her to conjure and control flames with precision and intensity.
-Mind Communication-
Ametheia possesses telepathy which allows for her to exchange thoughts, emotions, or images directly between minds. This can range from simple message exchange to complex conversations with those who share the gift.
Weaknesses
-Drain on Personal Energy-
The exertion of healing magic can be draining on Amatheia's personal energy. Healing severe injuries or dealing with widespread ailments requires substantial effort, leaving her fatigued and vulnerable afterward.
-Uncontrolled Draconic Influence-
The draconic blood in Amatheia carries immense power, but there's a fear of losing control over these abilities. The potential for unintended consequences or the fear of being consumed by draconic instincts is a constant concern.
In the Beginning...
Amethiea had always been a curious girl. From a young age, her curious nature set her apart. Born into the royal family of Drakoria, she was the daughter of the Emperor and Empress, who would do anything for their two children. Amethiea and her twin brother, Daemon, shared an unbreakable bond, having been inseparable even in the womb.
As Amethiea reached her teenage years, her curiosity grew. She longed to explore beyond the palace walls and begged her parents to let her study abroad. The Emperor and Empress agreed on one condition, she promised to return home before Haimanyx and honor her arranged marriage to Prince Kael Arelia of Eretia. This marriage was meant to form a pure union to benefit Drakoria. It was crucial for maintaining the ward that protected Drakoria from the Shadowlands. The pure bloodlines of the royal houses were key to sustaining this barrier, ensuring the kingdom's safety and prosperity.
Haimanyx
Haimanyx is a sacrificial festival held every year to honor the royal bloodlines. During the ceremony, each soul bound couple sips from a cup filled with the blood of a sacrificed dragon before slitting their palms and offering their blood to the Guardian Gems. Royal marriages often occur on this night because the power of their tied blood is much stronger after the initial union. The purity of the female participating in this ritual is of utmost importance, as it ensures her womb remains clean for the blood of the next lineage.
The Return
Ametheia returned home after ten years of studying abroad, having traveled widely, learned new languages, trained in combat, and honed her gift for healing magic. Her professors praised her as a prodigy. Upon her return, she reunited with her brother and parents, fully aware of the role she now had to play for the good of their people. Since her brother Daemon had not yet been crowned Emperor, Ametheia was next in line to feed the ward's power. The crowned prince Daemon had to wait until his coronation, offering blood twice. Once during his crowning and once during his own union. Daemon warned her about the Prince Kael of Eretia, telling her that he had grown cold and cruel these past few years. So, Ametheia prepared for the inevitable. Within the next week, she would lose her freedom and passion for healing, becoming the next Queen of Eretia.
The Crowned Prince of Eretia
It had been many years since she had seen her betrothed. He was undeniably handsome, with platinum hair and cold, clear blue eyes that seemed to be made of steel. She couldn't complain about his appearance. In the week leading up to their wedding, Prince Kael stayed at the castle of Drakoria so they could become better acquainted. He took her on walks through the gardens and invited her to luncheons. Though they did not know each other well, he seemed kind enough. Ametheia realized that while this might not be the life she had dreamed of, it was one she could endure for the sake of her kingdom.
The Blood Night Wedding
The Rising Sun
Amethiea prepared in her chamber as her mother placed a pin in her silvery white hair, a family heirloom passed down for generations. Her dress was the purest white, and her chest felt tight with sorrow for the freedom she was about to lose. Her mother kissed her brow before leading her out of the room. It was tradition for all weddings to be held in the keep of Drakoria Castle at sunrise, secluded to only royal members of each house. The Emperor, Amethiea's father, walked her down the hall and handed her off to Prince Kael. As they said their vows and sealed their union with a band, Amethiea couldn't help but notice the dark clouds that seemed to fog the prince's blue eyes. Their union was briefly celebrated over breakfast before preparing for the sacred ritual.
The Sun meets the Moon
Haimanyx always mesmerizing event, located within the Upala Forest, where the guardian gems powered protective wards near the borders of Drakoria. Laughter, music, and drinks filled the air, celebrating the realm's safety and royal lineage. Ametheia sat atop a raised platform on a dias, her new husband noticeably distant, his features masked in ia cold expression to the festivities. As the night progressed, the time for the ritual arrived. Ametheia paled as they brought forth the sacrificial dragon, a runt from its litter. Its throat slit to fill a large cup with its blood. Its haunting cry echoed, and as the blood spilled, blue flames ignited. Townsfolk danced and praised the creature, marking the newlyweds in its blood before they shared a drink from the cup. The taste of sulfur and the grit of ash lingered in Ametheia's mouth.
The previous sacrifice concluded, and now it was time for the final ritual of the night, Ametheia's virtue. A special tent awaited the newlyweds within the circled guardian gems. According to tradition, they were to enter and consummate their union, then emerge to share their sacrifice by spilling their own blood onto the central guardian gem just outside the tent as the sun kissed the moon in an eclipse. But the ritual took a dark turn. As Ametheia laid back, exposed, prepared to fulfill her part, the prince, pulled a dagger to her throat. Its handle was etched with ancient runes, all happening too quickly for her to struggle as he slit her throat. Blood gushed as she choked in shock. Her vision blurred at the corners, witnessing the prince, as if possessed, turn the knife on himself. His blood spilled over her staining her white hair with red, his body collapsing and going limp upon hers.
Panic surged through her as she struggled to scream, realizing her wound was not fatal. Desperately, she summoned her healing powers, focusing with all her might to save herself. Her energy surged and surged, but the loss of blood and the intense use of her power left her drained. Her vision began to blur at the edges when someone burst through the door. It was Daemon, wide eyed and in shock, his clothes and face stained with blood. Suddenly, an arrow pierced through his back, the tip jutting out from his chest, followed by another, and another. She reached for him, and it seemed he did the same. The darkness was consuming her, and she fought to keep her vision clear. Daemon was dragged away just as the world went black.
Her consciousness flickered in and out. Her head felt like it was bouncing off hard muscle. She realized she was being carried. The smell of death and burning flesh filled her nose. It was silent now, and she couldn't focus her vision. A man was carrying her, past the bodies of the slaughtered. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out.It felt as if her vocal cords had been ripped out. Her gaze turned to the man carrying her before everything went black again.
The Cottage
Ametheia awoke, her vision slowly adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings. As she attempted to sit up, a sharp ache radiated through her neck and back. She raised a trembling hand to her bandaged neck, the pain reminding her of the recent attack. Memories of her brother surged through her mind. They had always been bound by an invisible link, a connection strengthened by their twin bond. Now, that bond felt cold and hollow. She couldn't sense him, couldn't reach him. Desperation fueled her as she searched for an escape. Two voices drifted from the doorway before it swung open, letting in a chilling breeze. A mid aged woman and man entered, their faces reflecting the same shock that mirrored Ametheia's own. She tried to speak, but her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
“It’s okay,” the man said gently, stepping forward with his arms raised in a gesture of peace. Ametheia’s eyes widened in fear, pain, and loss. “War has erupted,” the man continued softly. “The Emperor and Empress are dead.” Ametheia’s breath hitched, and she bent over, a choked cry escaping her lips. “The prince… they say he’s dead too. Villages and towns have been ransacked and set ablaze, and citizens are being enslaved.” She remained hunched over, her body trembling as the gravity of the news overwhelmed her, a wave of nausea rising within her.
~
A subtle scar was what remained across her neck as weeks turned into months, and Ametheia continued to mourn her family and her people. Overwhelmed by grief and feeling utterly powerless to aid her empire, she felt a sense of uselessness. Yet, she rediscovered purpose through the healing arts. Rosalie and Frenrys, the married couple who had taken her in, were her saviors. Rosalie, a healer skilled in magic, had saved Ametheia that fateful night. Their cottage, nestled on the outskirts of the empire, offered sanctuary from the warlocks and witches that had ravaged her homeland. In the safety of their secluded home, Ametheia learned and grew. The months soon turned to years, and her bond with the couple deepened. Rosalie taught her to master both healing and fire magic, while Frenrys trained her in selfdefense.
~
The night was long when the last shred of security was ripped from Ametheia. The warlocks had found her sanctuary. Inside the cottage, only Rosalie and Ametheia remained, Frenrys having gone on a hunt. Ametheia was jolted from sleep when she felt a rough grip pulling her by her feet, dragging her out of bed with a thud. She thrashed, desperately grasping at anything.. Her nightgown tangled around her as she fought. Outside, Rosalie was bound and gagged, kneeling before one of the warlocks. Ametheia counted five in total.
As the warlock released her foot, Ametheia scrambled to her knees, dirt staining her skin and nightgown as she struggled to her feet, preparing for a fight. The warlock who had dragged her laughed and lunged forward. In a swift motion, Ametheia pivoted and reached for the knife strapped to his side. She slashed it across his cheek, black blood oozing from the cut.
“Bitch!” he snarled, slapping her hard across the face and sending her sprawling. Before she could regain her bearings, he yanked her by her platinum hair and dragged her in front of Rosalie. Ametheia’s heart sank as another warlock appeared behind Rosalie, knife poised at her throat. Ametheia’s scream for them to stop was drowned out as the warlock slit Rosalie’s throat from ear to ear, blood spraying across Ametheia. She writhed in horror. The warlock who had spoken earlier grinned wickedly. “We’ve been looking for you, princess,” he said in a low, menacing voice. Another brutal strike across her cheek tore at her skin. “First, we need to rid you of your virtue.” Two guards seized her, holding her down as the warlock unbuckled his belt, pulling her nightgown up over her chest revealing her full breasts. Her screams filled the night. Then, the warlock’s scream cut through the air as Frenrys leaped into the open field, severed heads tumbling to the floor. “RUN!” Frenrys roared. Ametheia sprang to her feet and fled as fast as she could. She glanced back briefly, seeing Frenrys impaled before she forced herself to focus on escaping, running with all her strength, determined not to look back again. She never returned to that cottage.
The Aelin Empire
Ametheia fled Drakoria, her homeland now too perilous for her to remain. She boarded a ship in secret, setting sail from one land to another, never lingering too long or forming attachments that could be easily severed. For centuries, this was her life, an endless cycle of travel and solitude. It was only her healing work that kept her tethered to her identity, allowing her to aid those in desperate need. Her journey brought her to the shores of Aelin, where she resumed her short existence. She opened a small herb and healing shop, serving customers and making a modest living. Yet, her routine was turned upside down when she met Empress Izra Aelin, who was in need of a healer for her upcoming delivery. Despite her inner resistance, Ametheia accepted the role.
Decades passed, and Ametheia became the trusted healer to the royal family of Aelin. The land, once just another stop on her endless journey, gradually became her new home. Though she maintained a careful distance, she grew to love the people and her life in Aelin.
Everything changed one fateful day when the harmony of Aelin was shattered by the sudden disappearance of its Empress. The upheaval caused by her absence led to the empire’s downfall. Feeling a deep sense of duty to the remaining members of Aelin, Ametheia chose to stay as the empire merged with the neighboring realm of Kormista, committed to aiding in the transition and preserving what she could of her adopted home.