Yevelda
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~ 34 Frosts End Moon, 1450 AL
~ 27 Years Old
Life was tough growing up in the Eastgrove Orphanage. But Yevelda persisted through every rough patch, every failed adoption, even as the other children joined their newfound families. She honed her skills, curated her knowledge, and eventually carved out a place to call home within the town of Zerac.
The townspeople have come to rely on her in more ways than one. From her skills as a phantasm arcanist - a particularly rare form of magic in Yondar - to her welcoming presence in the Old Stone Pitcher, people will come to Yevelda seeking advice or a friendly chat. This comes as a stark contrast to her early years, where most would avoid or bully her.
For the first half hour, no one comes to find you. There is a certain comfort in that. Just you, the clearwater river rushing past, splashing at the tips of your boots as you dangle your feet over the side of the bank.
You wonder if maybe they don’t care, if maybe they decided you were too much trouble now that your identity is no longer a secret. One of them decides to prove you wrong. You hear the crunch of leaves underfoot first, snapping with purpose. Then comes a voice, soft and warm, like the light from a candle’s flame.
“Room for one more?” Yevelda asks. You incline your head and she takes that near imperceptible movement as confirmation. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she continues, voice carrying over the rustling of her clothes as she settles in beside you, “but I figured you might want some company. Sometimes it’s… nice to know that someone’s there even if silence hangs between you.”
Of course, there are still those who are wary of Yevelda and her powers. These types of people worry that she is taking advantage of the townsfolk, using her abilities to further her own agenda and reap some form of personal gain. Yevelda has never bothered to deny these claims; she sees little point in paying such accusations any mind when they hold no traction. In truth, she is extremely reserved when it comes to her magical abilities and only ever tends to use them to help out her friends.
No matter how much she brushes their opinions to the side, the sentiments of that wary minority still sting.
Physical Description
Nothing really stands out about Yevelda. She has purposefully made herself appear average, a trait that allows her to blend in with crowds and makes it impossible for her potential enemies to deem her threatening. She is average height, not skinny but not muscular either. But she doesn't need to be - her intelligence and perceptive nature, alongside her arcane abilities, gives her all the edge she needs in a fight.
That said, she does have a number of large scars that she does her best to cover up on a daily basis. These are all from various mishaps with her phantasm essence when she was younger and didn't really know what being a phantasm arcanist meant. The worst of these scars is the one that wraps around her right forearm. Her skin in this area has been warped and the veins and arteries below glow a bright, white colour.
“It’s a reminder and a warning,” Yevelda murmurs. You draw your eyes away from the twisted veins glowing in the darkness, glancing up to find Yevelda’s steely gaze. Just watching. Waiting. Not a single emotion betrayed by her reticent mask.
“For what?”
“That I can’t be trusted,” she starts, pursing her lips during the subsequent pause, “that I’m a monster hiding behind the illusion of a person.” You gingerly take a step forward. Arm slowly rising, as if you might reach out and offer comfort, but the smile blossoming from those rosy lips locks your arm and yourself in a brief confusion. “Or so they say.”
Yevelda shrugs, seemingly undisturbed by the idea. But you catch a glimpse of something more behind her eyes, something that even she can’t hide. A flicker of sorrow.
Personal History
Dropped off at the Eastgrove Orphanage in early 1451 AL, Yevelda has no idea who her real family. All she knows is that they were from Vigne.
It wasn't a terrible life. There were rough patches growing up, as there always are. Some of the other children in the orphanage would bully her, but swiftly moved on to their next target. When she was 7 years old, Yevelda went through a particularly rough period when she discovered she could use phantasm essence. It added to her abnormalities - she wasn't from Zerac, she wasn't even from Yondar, and she had arcane abilities that were considered rare by the people of this kingdom. It also made it a lot harder for her to get adopted by families looking for a child of their own.
A few months after her discovery of her magical abilities, the bullying stopped. She's not proud of what she did to the other children back then; using her magic to manipulate them into leaving her alone for an entire week. But she finds it hard to deny, even now as she has grown older and practiced better control, that the rush of magic and pure joy she felt when unleashing her power was intoxicating. It scares her sometimes, to look back on that moment and relive that rush of emotion. The thought of is this really who I am? racing through her mind.
The woman regards you with narrowed eyes. At first, between her stare and the pursed lips, you believe her to be glaring at you, thoroughly unimpressed by your tattered look. But then you catch a glint of something - intrigue perhaps? - shimmering beneath the surface of those dark blue orbs.
“So,” she drawls, “you’re the woman Sariel’s been talking non stop about?”
Her tone is even, betraying no hint of emotion. You try to muster up a bout of confidence, a task more difficult than you had hoped what with the woman’s cool gaze still watching you. “I am. She- she has?”
The woman smiles at that. It is a little off, like that of a genuine smile fractured by years spent hiding. You know it well, having seen it in the mirror a thousand times before when trying to bolster yourself.
“You’re new, you’re mysterious, and you fought off the thugs downstairs with barely a second thought as to the consequences. So of course she has.” She tilts her head. The extra seconds ease that smile into something smoother. Softer. “Name’s Yevelda, by the way.”
When she was 12 years old, she was used to testing her phantasm essence, pushing her powers to the brink in order to test her limitations. An incident with her essence where she lost control and manifested an illusion too powerful for her. Yevelda made a valiant attempt to regain control of the situation, but to no avail. When the illusion eventually vanished, it did so in an explosion of raw essence. She tried to stop the magic from decimating herself, the orphanage, and the other children. Luckily, she was successful, but her left arm was permanently damaged.
By 14, Yevelda had come to realise that her prospects of getting adopted were slim to none. She knew, from experience and from overhearing the workers at the orphange talk that those looking to adopt typically went for young children or babies, not those a few years shy of celebrating their Tempering. In order to escape the confines of the orphange and the younger children who Yevelda thought were either boring or too nosy, she begged Marien, the old lady who owned the Old Stone Pitcher, to let her work there.
Marien relented in the end. She allowed Yevelda to help sweep and clean, and sometimes even serve the patrons. Overtime Yevelda became interested in how the tavern was run and started to help out with keeping track of money, orders, inventory and shipments. She became so integral in this process that when Marien died, she named Yevelda one of the successors of the Old Stone Pitcher.
Social
Religious Views
Having grown up in the orphanage, Yevelda picked up most of her religious views from there. This meant that during her early years, they were very central to the The Church of Van-Hael. However, Yevelda has never really been one for believing that just Van-Hael exists and has often expressed her interest in the concepts that the Elryvian Pantheon has to offer.
In recent years, she has actively come to dislike the exclusivity that the Church proposes.
She is always happy to converse with travellers that end up in the tavern about what their opinions on the various dieties are. Unsurprisingly and, much to her ever growing annoyance, she finds that most of them either follow the teachings of the Church, or do not actively practice a religion.
Class
Phantasm Arcanist
Profession
Yevelda is the co-owner of the Old Stone Pitcher, alongside Jace Tirell. She prefers to tend the bar and wait on customers, as she has never been one for cooking. She also keeps track of the tavern's finances.
What does she like?
What could be better than waking up with a Gleaning season dawn? When the sun still hasn’t quite risen and a chill runs through the air; not abrasively cold, just a welcome change to Summer’s blazing heat. The darker mornings also have the added benefit of deterring people from being outside before the sun rises completely, so Yevelda gets to spend her morning walks in relative peace.
As cold and calculating as she appears, Yevelda actually has an unexpected sweet tooth. Candy and sweets are a guilty pleasure. In particular, she loves the honey sweet beers brewed in southern Yondar, to the point where she and Jace have started ordering barrels of it to the Old Stone Pitcher.
What does she dislike?
As a result of her incident at the orphanage when she was younger, Yevelda has taken an extreme dislike to total darkness and shadows. She would avoid calling it ‘fear’, because she isn’t crippled by it - after all it’s not like she is incapable of going out during the night, for example. But anyone close to her knows just how blurred the lines between dislike and fear truly are.
Yevelda is far too familiar with lies. Though the orphanage wasn’t awful, every child was fed promises of adoption, including Yevelda, but in a number of instances these promises were never fulfilled. This has, of course, led to a number of people who know about her phantasm essence calling her a hypocrite, but Yevelda believes that there is a difference between outright lying and what she uses her phantasm essence for.
Yevelda prides herself on her knowledge and willingness to hear alternate theories and concepts. What she can’t stand though is the Church of Van-Hael and the way they flaunt their religion as the only true one, despite evidence to the contrary. To stand so firmly in their beliefs… Well, it’s almost like they’re lying to themselves and the world around them.
Personal Connections
Sariel Swiftblood
Whenever these two are in close proximity, they either begin to argue or gossip. In the case of the former, any snide comments or remarks are recognised for what they are; words lacking any real bite. More commonly, you will see the two of them involved in the latest gossip. It’s hard to avoid, since Yevelda works at a tavern, and as much as she acts as though she’s above the gossip, she isn’t fooling anyone. Especially not Sariel.
Darak Fireforge
Yevelda caught Darak seven cups deep into their ale stores one night after a heartbreaking run in with one of his exes. She should have told Marien, but instead she kept it quiet, paid for the missing ale out of her own pocket, and gave Darak a much needed shoulder to cry on. He’s been her closest friend ever since. The two of them are each other’s first port of call whenever they need to vent.
Jace Tirell
Jace is the co-owner of the Old Stone Pitcher now that Marien has passed away. She and Jace run the place like a well oiled machine and have become much closer by virtue of spending so much more time together. Yevelda admires his work ethics and unshakeable loyalty to his husband, and he admires her passionate quest for knowledge.
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