Illu was borne unusually frail. Very tall, very angular, bird-like if you will. Her neck and body are long, her mane black and tail blond. It is the strange clash of burnished buttermilk and silvery grey of her hide that begs to be questioned though. Large white patches rise across her belly, flanks, and legs. Like her Mother, she is bald-faced and white-eyed. Ears tapering in the hint of a curl at the tips, something her Mother swears she got from her father. That, and everything else about her, for she shares little with her dam. As an adult she will mature into something less gangly and a bit more feminine, retaining that bird-like thinness that will always be there. She will thicken in her chest and hips, lengthen in her legs and deepen in girth. She will be fast, build for speed and bred for endurance. With age will come grace and elegance, though her beauty will be subject to the eye of the beholder.
"It is a good thing to learn caution from the misfortune of others." - Publilius Syrus
llu is young and therefore inherently curious. She was raised from day one by a nurse-mare turned Governess, Amalie, and it was only natural that she take up a more reserved tendency. Most youth are raised with the intention of working among the Vines and although they are taught to read and write, most child-like behavior is curbed at an early age. Illu is no different, however Amalie is not a particular task-master. Being one of only three children in the House at the time, among them she was the only one who managed to sneak out to the lower valleys. She is exploratory by nature and enjoys the simple things. For hours she will stand in a bubbling creek, feeling it on her hooves and counting the minnows. Windy days are her favorite and she will lay in the grass for a whole afternoon letting it brush her hair. Although fairly laid-back in the beginning, after moving to the city to attend school she is forced to lean on a sense of self-preservation. She is goal oriented, determined to make the best of what she has been given. Books are her absolute favorite and studying comes easy. Although she is not necessarily mean, she is not kind either. Civility is her weapon of choice when dealing with intrusive opinions and classroom bullies. Using her words rather than her body as a means of self-defense, though very few ever bothered her. Quiet became her personal mantra and there were times she would wake in the early hours to peruse the Library before the others woke.
After the events of the battle she is traumatized, exhausted, weak. She is utterly terrified and has no idea what is happening or what is going on. She has seen blood, gore, and all manner of death in a short span of time. Witnessed science right before her eyes and lived to tell the tale. Upon coming to Novus she is skittish and distrusting, fearful and wary of the lack of commodities which her world took her granted. Illu is weak of mind and misses her home something fierce, but she is a strong individual and will let little stand in her way toward finding a solution. There is always an answer.
"What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly." - Charles Addams
When you are four months old your House applies for its chosen Novice Academy. There are several within the Capital city and many more for the outlying territories, all fine choices. But there is only one Cordein de Academia. Cordein is the founding Father of the Seven's modern base curriculum and viewed by many as the most intelligent being to have ever lived. Even the more devout had a tendency to seek his teachings for their youth. So broad and well-known was his work. So good. The Seven, last anyone knew, hated him. One could only speculate as to why, but there was little they could do when the populace loved him. However, Cordein was an old equine and his days were numbered. Perhaps this is why my Mother chose his most prominent school to enroll me too. Even when my chances of successfully getting in were null, through faith and with fierce motivation she acquired an enrollment form (somehow), and tried her luck.
Our House is not the smallest, yet it is far from the largest. From the tallest hill in the lower valleys you can see the tip of the Capital's tallest building and its great, encompassing walls that kept those within from harm. For our rank within the census we held a fairly profitable plot of land, and chose to cultivate it for grapes. This was decided long before my time and it is with a strange sense of pride that I looked upon my homelands. Our property was vast, having been slowly extended and grown through several generations of House Heads. The current House Head, Vicyllia, was an incorrigible mare with a talent for driving others away. Where there had been a healthy thirty hands to man the vines at my birth, there were now a meager twelve. Perhaps this, I wonder, is why my Mother thought to enroll me into Academia. It is only right and normal that all parents choose to send their children to school, but this is not normally the case. Especially for the smaller, working properties. Like ours. Therefore one could almost see it as a form of rebellion that she would dare send me away instead of keep me around to take up in the vineyard. But Cordein's school for the most talented? The most creative? The highest rank? No, that was a place for foals who had money in their pockets. There was no chance. So why, I wonder again, did they reply?
Amalie, my Governess was ecstatic, almost to the point of hyperventilation. They had replied. Better yet, they had accepted. I was going to school. How? There was no possible way it was real, and yet it bore the silver seal of Cordein, which was required as verification of each recipient. Spidery blue veins of wax ran through the silver, making it pop in a most startling way, the kind so as to draw attention. It was real alright, and in that moment I knew that Vicyllia could not know. Amalie, in all her excitement, had developed a somber look upon her face as she rolled the parchment and placed it carefully back into its thin container. "I will send word to your Mother," she said fondly, quietly, "not a word, you understand?"
I did.
What I do not understand is how everything could go so horribly wrong, so very fast. Words like War and battle were nothing but rumors to the likes of our House. Therefore when I began school it was shocking to find they were practically sung on the lips of almost everyone I passed. Flyers fluttered down the cobblestone streets, guards patrolled, droning words of law as if it were the only thing keeping the peace. A War was coming with the enemy practically knocking on the Capital's door. The propaganda was outrageous and I was glad for when I was able to lose myself to the studies. There was far too much work to be done to worry about all of that. I had been given the opportunity of a lifetime and I would be damned if I squandered it. Maybe, just maybe I could have paid a little bit more attention to the goings on around me. Maybe, I would have been more prepared for the coming months.
The dawn was on fire. Literally engulfed in flames. We were awakened abruptly and quickly given to terror. The Professors-at least the ones that stayed-were ushering us down the hallways, winding through the dorms while screams echoed through the dusky windows. Smoke made it hard to see, but it was impossible to miss the raging chaos outside. Horses raced up and down the cobblestones, some dressed in elaborate armor, some wielding strange, beautiful weapons that crackled with energy or roared like thunder. There were bodies, some burnt, others cut down from combat. It was a grotesque sight, not meant for the young eyes that looked upon it with horror. However it was probably the Runamere that were the worst. They were the Sevens pride and joy, a breed of genetically engineered pegasi designed for the sole purpose of killing. Or perhaps 'serving' was the better word, as killing was merely an aspect of servitude. They fell from the skies like giant birds, teeth bared, feathers charred and bloody, hooves rendering bodies. Some of them wore armor while others used weapons similar to those like the Knights on the ground did. We were always told of how huge they were. Seeing them up close was downright terrifying. It was slated to get worse as several of them suddenly appeared from the smoke, landing themselves in front of the gathered school children rather than off to fight some unfortunate foe. Teachers stepped forward and words were exchanged, though very little was heard. Compared to to even the biggest Clydesdale, the Dean, they were enormous. Towering over his mass as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then, they were calling names. Children were dragged forward, petrified, forced against the legs of these massive beings while battle raged on around them. But not all, it was noted rather quickly. This was not a role-call. This was specific.
Runamere came and went for what felt like forever, at one point they were forced into a skirmish. Watching them simply felt unreal. But again they came, and again names were called. The blood-stained pavilion was far less crowded than it had been before. I could not help but realize though, that all of the foals being carried away were those from higher ranking Houses. It did not take fool to realize they were being rescued and that could only mean that once the last one had gone, the rest of them would be left to fend for themselves. With every name shouted from dark lips my heart dropped further. The cerulean blue choker around my neck was utterly suffocating as I watched yet another classmate fly away to safety. Finally, finally they stopped coming. The same Runamere that started the whole process waited until the last one was out of sight before speaking quick, hushed words with the Dean. Then, with a single pump of his wings, he too was swallowed by the smoke.
Several minutes of total silence passed. The few Professors that yet remained stood stock still, not daring to move from the students left behind. Brave souls, powerful souls in their own right. But no match for the screaming death that waded every closer to them. The Dean's behemoth shook in a hard sob. Do not cry, I thought, it is not your fault. With a whoop and a shriek a Runamere stallion cleared the pavilion of smoke in a single thrust of his wings. He was single-handedly the largest creature I had ever seen, seeming to rise even larger than the ones that had carried away our classmates. He was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and he was calling my name. Literally, he was calling my name and I was unsure of how to respond. He stepped past the Dean without so much as a glance, he knew exactly who I was, where I was. My legs felt weak and it was hard to breathe. Something was stuck in my throat. "Illu, I have come for you." He spoke and his soft voice against my ears put a crack in the ferocious image in my head. "We must hurry, mount now, there is no time." Mount? Mount what? His back? Of course his back, for that is how everyone else had been saved. Splayed across the backs of their massive charges. His own back was wide, his girth built for strength and lung capacity. He was stunning. I never could have imagined being commanded to mount another horse, especially not in the manner in which I did now. It was awkward and uncomfortable, tugging my legs too wide, making it difficult to maintain a healthy grip. He did not wait. As soon as I had found a spot to settle he was airborne. So fast, so powerful. How did such a gigantic being move as if God himself blessed his wings?
If I am honest I do not remember too much after that. He took us high above the smoke, far above the city, and up toward the clouds. By the time I was able to see stars I could hardly stay away. Wind cut my eyes, making it painful to keep them open while my mind raced with the events I left behind. What would happen to my classmates? To the Professors I was only just getting to know? Why did this Runamere come for me? How did he know my name? The last thing I remember was the crack of thunder in the shell of my ear. Lightning raced across the sky in brilliant purples and shocking yellow. The storm was here.
☆ She wears a collar on her neck, designed to grow with her. All members of every House are required to wear them as a way to identify them to their House. It is a deep cerulean with burnished gold and maroon embroidery of flowers her Mother chose at birth. These are unique to her and none can ever share it.
☆ She carries a small, light, leather satchel that was stitched for her as a birthday present. It is something she carries with her everywhere and rarely removes. She enjoys filling it with things she finds, herbs, trinkets..etc.
☆ Her mother bequeathed to her what could be described as a small flashlight, roughly seven inches long and an inch and a half thick. It is made of a strange metal she is unfamiliar with and shockingly light. When pressed in the middle it activates into a full length spear, extending from both sides. In full light it is a deep bluish grey with a strange, opalescent sheen. It measures approximately six feet long when fully open. Engraved with foreign designs and alien writing, it is unlike anything she has ever seen before. Having never handled a weapon she has no idea how to use it, and never takes it out of her satchel.