Tyrison
Legacy Name: Tyrison

Deep beneath the cover of forest in Winter's grasp, sits a monster. Hellish, ash colored claws grasp a book which he has his blue beak in, glossed white eyes staring with no discernible movement. The wind blows and snowflakes fly free from their branched perch to rest on the dark creature. The first shift in minutes takes place; the beast shakes and puffs up coal feathers before using a single claw to delicately flip the page, shrugging off the light white flakes before returning to his previously still position...

A blessing or a curse? He has yet to decide, a man once pure now destroyed by the world. Tyrison, at the ripe age of fifteen, joined a passing monk with the intention of simply tagging along to the new world. He never made it, far too fascinated with the devote man he had shared company with. When passing by the docks, where he would have boarded a ship to go across the large expanse of ocean to a newly discovered land, Tyrison stepped onto another with the man to head to lands previously known but just as mystreious...

I remember fondly now the quiet peace I have never felt at any other time than when I was with that man. Of the days shared speaking about everything that came across my young, malleable mind and his answers. Not a day was spent inside when we could be out and the ocean was surprisingly calm besides several for the entire passage of seventy-two days. He wasn't as zealous nor narrow-minded in his faith like the others I have met since. Different. As I sit here now I think now he may have been the reason for...my departure from the true path, for lack of better words.

Years passed and he grew into a man. He was one of the more striking of them too, somebody who looked better fit for working in the fields rather than studying scripture and copying; the body of the farmer and perhaps even warrior he should have been showing through. In fact, a lot of his time was spent tending to the Sanctuary's garden where they grew the foods and herbs that helped feed themselves and the nearby villages. In secret Tyrison also grew rare plants with uses not strictly for a moral sense. It was his curiosity that led to his downfall rather than any interest in harming others.

It had been snowing, a gentle falling of white crystals from the sky the day it happened. I can remember the pain, of my flesh being split wide open, the clatter of the wood bowl I'd held falling to the hard stone. It was like being skinned alive with a knife made out of salt while my innards roasted, the cracking of bones and my screams echoing back to me. A deep, dark blackness followed and when I awoke it was to the sound of horrified gasps and murmurs. I knew whatever had happened, it was not good and as if to confirm my worst fears, our harsh leader stepped forward with his icon raised to ward off evil. It hurt to know that evil was me.

Having been shunned and staked out from his former home, Tyrison now resides deep in the woods where a never ending, and quite unnatural, winter continues around him and his little shack. It is here that he practices his magic in peace. He has long come to terms with what he is although he still seeks a way to return to his former body.span style="font-size:11px;">§