F L O W E R
Details
Full Name: Almet Piren
Race: Fae’ethalan
Sex: Male presenting
Age: 19
Height: 5’4’’
Weight: 112 lbs
Birthdate: Glade 61, 101
Birthplace: Spring Court
Profession: Companion to Sivan
Housing: A rather battered tent, which he is in the process of mending.
Partners: N/A
Titles: N/A
Factions: N/A
Fluencies: Valasren, Hytori
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: Common
Appearance
Small and waifish, Flower holds very little in terms of size. In truth, his eyes, a startling blue, are his most notable features, and seem to overwhelm his entire face. His extremities hold a deep, pinkish hue, bordering on magenta, which slowly seems to melt away into paler skin as it creeps along his limbs, and his dark, curly hair is strewn with lilies, which seem to grow as naturally there. Occasionally, when he moves, he seems almost to give off the faintest burst of golden pollen. He can most often be found staring off into the distance, as though looking for something he has lost and cannot remember.
Flower can often be found with dirt on his hands, feet, and face, or leaves and bits of grass in clothing or hair. He is generally tangled and wind-swept, seemingly always having found some way to be absolutely and utterly lost in the beauty of nature.
Personality
There are aspects of Flower which have been lost to memory, facets of his personality which are no longer clearly defined. What is clear is that Flower is quiet. He rarely speaks, and when he does, his voice is little more than a whisper, and never more than a few, halting words. On the surface, he seems docile and soft, as quiet a part of the world around him as the flowers which signify the coming of spring. But Flower is emotional, prone to frustrated outbursts when he cannot properly articulate himself. The bouts of temper come as quickly and violently as thunderstorms, and are usually followed by bouts of penitent efforts to reconcile.
Flower is painfully shy. He does not form bonds easily, nor does he trust readily. He is generally fearful and mistrusting of strangers, and will go out of his way to avoid contact with those with whom he is unfamiliar. He is prone to violent bouts of anxiety and equally intense depressions. His emotions rise and fall with the seasons, and as they change, he seems to fade and blossom with the warming and cooling of days.
His memory is, for the most part, lost. He has no clear understanding for his current state, and part of him is fearful of uncovering the truth, as though a shroud has been thrown over his memory for his own protection.
History
Nenril Piren was, like many young girls, sweet and full of hope. She fell in love, as young people do, with the wrong sort. Thevin was alluring, mysterious, and everything that the fresh-faced young Fae’ethalan could have desired. He revealed very little of his true self, or his nature as a member of the Fallen Court. He was entranced by Nenril’s innocence and naivety, and allowed himself to revel in claiming those things for himself. Their romance was a rush, filled with intense emotion, and ended as tumultuously. Flower was born Almet, a child whose birth came about through a proclamation of love. But his mother did not last long after his birth, withering away in her grief.
She left behind her little son, who was, for the most part, raised by the good graces of his mother’s kin. While families of the Spring Court are generally close-knit, Almet was often treated with a sense of distance, and while his needs were met, and he was loved, his grandmother in particular seemed almost fearful of what the future might hold for the child. Almet was especially close to his grandfather after whom he was named, and who alone seemed to fear nothing of Almet’s parentage. He grew up wild, largely oblivious of the truth of his birth. He knew only that his mother had died, and was never told anything about his father. Consequently, Almet never truly felt as though he belonged with his family, though this was a worry he did his best to squelch.
Almet took great joy in the wide, wild world around him. Raised to be part of the earth, he demonstrated a natural inclination for helping beautiful flora grow. He seemed, too, especially adept at making friends with any number of wild animals he encountered while roaming and exploring.
As Almet grew, he found himself increasingly disassociated from his mother’s family. His grandfather took ill, and as the illness intensified, he revealed the truth of Almet’s birth to him before succumbing. Devastated by both the news and the loss of his grandfather, Almet set out away from his kin and the safety of the family he knew in search of his father.
For months, Almet wandered, seeking out whatever whispers he could of the Fallen Court and Thevin, who seemed always within his grasp, and yet entirely out of sight. Thevin, in the midst of this searching, became aware of his child’s hunt, and decided to make a game of it. He would leave clues here and there, intent on seeing if Almet could follow them, but always vanishing when the boy got too close. Almet grew increasingly frustrated, and increasingly reckless. When what seemed like an obvious sign of Thevin’s location at last emerged, Almet followed it carelessly, not realizing that he was being lured into a trap. He followed Thevin into a storm, thinking himself ready at last to confront the man whose callousness had brought about not only Nenril’s death, but a life marked by fear and mistrust of her son. Given adequate time to prepare himself, Thevin greeted his child not with open arms, but with a curse.
Almet was completely unprepared for this, and met the full force. His memories grew faded, disjointed like dreams. His identity itself became nothing more than a bleary haze. Almet Piren, for all intents and purposes, died. The boy who crawled from the storm, inarticulate and disoriented, had no concept of who he was. It was, rather, as though select memories had been torn from him, replaced only with a mental fog, through which he could not find his way.
He spent several months alone, fending for himself and growing weaker as the seasons grew colder, before at last being discovered by Sivan Sunrunner, who had compassion enough to take the Fae’ethalan under his wing, giving him the nickname Flower.
