Irises the colour of burning embers gaze from serious eyes, his black that lightens just slightly at the tip, is kept short and neat to avoid getting in his eyes. And hidden by his magic are two sets of wings, large and blazing in red, marked by the same chimera that decorates his neck. He can conjure or dismiss them at will, choosing to keep them hidden most of the time.

Despite the years of regimented torment Helios remained good natured- surprisingly warm and friendly if not a little hesitant to shed light on himself. A few rumours and facts have found traction, some of which Helios sustains (like the report that he cannot feel pain) but he will rarely talk about his past with anyone, even those he’s closest with.

He takes a particular shine to children, seeing in them the innocence and naivety he was denied. When Apollo joined the ranks of Zolin’s child soldiers a year after himself, Helios tried to shelter the boy as much as he could, protect him from the more brutal reality and sew in him a seed of hope. But Helios himself saw the grimness of the world, the scars and the injuries. He knows what he is and what he did under Zolin’s reign and he seeks to protect others from that, to make up for it by being a hero. Yet he struggles, toeing the line between right and wrong and often wondering if he is the hero or the villain. Aggressive, perhaps a little too violent, he will protect Solterra at the cost of those outside it- a whisper of savagery that remains from his youth. He assures himself that he did was he did to survive, that it does not define him, does not control him. Driven by a desire to be the hero, to protect and to lead he self-sacrificing though not reckless, quick to act but not careless. Perhaps a little too heroic, he can come across as self-righteous, even slightly entitled in the belief that he should be the hero, that he should protect Solterra’s people.

Mature, particularly given his young age, he comes across as gruff and serious when one first meets him, but around those he cares for he may lighten up. Some mornings he can be found skirting the sunrise among the clouds with Ba’al, even smiling and laughing as though all his worries remained chained to the ground. Yet at night his sleeping hours are haunted by nightmares, stealing from him the rest he has so greatly desired for years. Helios cannot remember the last time he slept well. And yet he’s compartmentalised the horrors of his youth, burying the memories and replacing them with something far more bearable. He considers his parents’ decision to sell him for food a worthy sacrifice but this has misconstrued his view of love- he does not consider himself a creature to be loved, to be cared for. He is a protector, nothing more and nothing less.

Below I have included an excerpt of a letter from the training officer to the Warden, Viceroy;

The boy is a sickly thing, tiny and weak and starving. He is incapable of wielding a sword, incapable of standing up to the other recruits and he should not be here. It would have been a mercy to kill him, he’ll only die of sickness or exhaustion during training anyway. But if you insist, I will continue to train him, provided he lives that long.

The cruelty experienced by the child soldiers, the torturous training and rigorous control does not need explaining. How the foals come out alive at the end I do not know- and in fact I imagine there are some that do not. But from what I can tell they are broken and remade into perfect killers, weapons of the Child King’s glutton for violence.”

Helios’ journey was one of a number and no more documented than any of the other soldiers’ but his development was considered miraculous. He went from a scrawny, ill little colt to a strong, elegant but well built stallion. He was among Viceroy’s finest work and served the throne without question, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing.

When the boy-king died and the Kingdom went up in flames the soldiers were plunged into disarray. Many took to the streets, some still clinging to a shred of loyalty to Viceroy and Zolin, the remnants of their barbaric brainwashing. Some even joined in with the carnage, taking the chance to escape their bonds or release the pent-up violence that bubbled like an ever-boiling cauldron. Helios however wrestled with his hero complex, knowing nothing more than serving the crown and being entirely loyal to Solterra and Solis. So he pledged his loyalty to the new Sovereign. And the next. And the next. But, unable to forget the devastation of the war between Denocte and Solterra, Helios found himself questioning his blind service to whoever assumed the golden throne when it was Raum who sat upon it.

Now he pledges his loyalty to Solis and will serve his people, unofficially leading the Triskevma and helping the reigning monarch do the right thing. And when required, pointing out if they’re doing the wrong thing.

His wings are swift and long, angular and sharp but richly feathered; perfect for speed.

Notes about his powers:
-He cannot fly whilst his wings are hidden and he cannot move them
-He can feel his wings while they are hidden- the weight of them from his shoulders, but not the individual feathers.
-There is a tiny delay between conjuring his wings and flying- he cannot do it in the same movement- they spread first and then he can take to the air.
-If the wings themselves are injured it is far more taxing to make them disappear and requires more concentration.
-He cannot conjure only one pair- when they appear all four appear