Diaval stands only an inch taller than his sister at 16 hands, and bares the same Friesian frame as her. Elegant and refined in his appearance rather than built from heavy muscle, it is clear that he is no warrior. Yet there is a quiet strength and pride in the way he holds himself tall, a born leader if ever there was one.

Carved from ebony satin, his coat is as dark as the shadows he prefers. Wings, great and clawed like those of a dragon, rise proud from his slender shoulders, as inky black as the rest of him. Long-legged, his ankles are coated in fine feathering like those of his breed and his hair is long and oddly straight. Sometimes he will braid his hair loosely, or perhaps have it tied up in some smart way to keep it from getting in his face, but usually it is left to hang smoothly from his neck. Though not a vain man, Diaval is well groomed and takes care of his hair.

Two horns, sharp and slightly curved, rise from his brow, the mirror to the ones Lucinda bares. But where her face is marred only by a single scar running across her eye, Diaval’s is split by a deep laceration that runs from his brow to left check. But even more eye catching are his eyes- not the beautiful emerald green of Lucinda’s but a deep, sapphire blue that seems to always glisten with untold emotion.

He has simple gold neck-piece, the only evidence that he was once a prince and a king.

Where his sister is ambition and cunning, Diaval is far more content with letting the world run its course without his pushing it. Kind-hearted and warm, he can be charming where he wants to be and as a colt could easily convince the cook to give him a few extra sweet rolls. Smart, though quietly so, Diaval is calm and placid, preferring to observe the world and spend his time among nature. A born leader, there is a silent strength to the sombre set of his sharp jaw, a level-headedness that allows him to lead without missing the big picture. The winged steed is also a fine politician, able to brave the long hours of the courtroom and play the grand game that ensnares all realms with as much skill as any nobleman. Because of this, he will forever blame himself for the downfall of his family, for missing the jealousy that festered within their kingdom.

Whenever his sister stirred up trouble, he was always there to placate fray nerves and calm arisen tempers. Though by no means a warrior, preferring the wily ways of words over the needless destruction of weapons, Diaval is surprisingly protective of his sister and holds himself entirely accountable for her disappearance.

Despite being warm and at ease in a crowded room, Diaval preferred the company of his sister and their dragons over the company of others and spent as time on his own as he could. The luminescent nights of their homeland provided perfect sanctuary for the steed, who could often be found reading by the light of the moon.

Though he is not a violent man, Diaval wants to take down those that killed his parents and cast out he and his sister. The events that lead to their kingdom’s demise have set alight in him a fiery anger that he keeps hidden at almost all times, but sometimes it ignites beyond control. Besides that, he is very controlled with his emotions, keeping himself in check almost all the time and rarely letting anyone besides Lu truly in.

Born in the Moors, a land of magic and mystery, Diaval is the eldest of twins borne by the King and Queen. He and his sister, Lucinda, looked very much alike at birth, but for the blue of Diaval’s eyes and the sharper wings upon his back. They forged an iron bond from the beginning- Diaval and quiet to his sister’s storm, the kind to her chaos. They balanced each other out perfectly and could almost always be found together, even as foals.

The two were raised to be rulers, fashioned into the perfect leaders to preserve and protect their land. Together they tamed a pair of dragons, their constant companions. The process was dangerous but both had courage and both succeeded. Diaval’s dragon was a large male, appearing obsidian in colour with scales that gleamed gold beneath the light. For a dragon Astraeus (as he was called) was remarkable placid and rather enjoyed spending nights with Diaval curled up beneath the dark sky, reading by candle light.

As the two grew and learnt, Diaval found himself with an affinity for the courtroom. With a silver tongue and a smart mind he was able to balance diplomacy and leadership with uncanny skill. When the time came for he and Lucinda’s parents to step down, the twins assumed the throne together, achieving a balance by working together as they always did. For a time the Moors enjoyed peace and prosperity. But little did they both know, an uprising was smouldering in the darkness, growing larger and larger until one bloody night the land was tossed into chaos.

In the fight their parents died, as did many of their supporters. Lucinda and Diaval were separated- the former tossed into another world entirely, whilst the latter injured and taken by river to the far edges of their kingdom.

When Diaval awoke, his head coated in blood and his heart full of sadness, he wallowed in the darkness. Weak and alone. For days he cursed himself. For failing to protect their people. For failing to see the uprising. For losing Lucinda. She was not dead, he knew. Diaval would have felt it. But she was far away from him. Far, far away from him. When his head healed, leaving an unkind scar across his face, the steed set out in search of his sister, abandoning the Kingdom that had betrayed them. The stallion did not know where to begin, he simply followed the thread that had always attached their hearts. Portal after portal he tried, world after world. But he found nothing. Bitter and near giving up hope, he arrives in Novus.