"We are taught to walk forwards, so do not look behind; simply walk and what will fall into place shall tumble into your lap."
Coming across as an odd sort who prefers to write than speak, it is easy to misinterpret her as distant or lacking of proper empathy. Fukayna is observant and often compared with being like a silent wraith given her tendency to "appear" without her approach being heard. Though kind, she is guarded and withdrawn from the world. Her quiet manner allows her to be a good listener, though she is not pushy for information and allows as much to be told as the speaker may wish. Though she wishes for companionship, she does not allow that to drive her--perhaps because that scared, girlish heart of hers fears rejection. When she deigns to "speak" to another, it is easy to see how a part of her is still sheltered, for some things may go completely over her head.
Weapons Her halberd has been her fighting companion since it was molded and adorned with golden metals and a clear, blue orb. She keeps an assortment of small daggers and throwing knives embedded in her furs to account for closer combat.
Abilities While she does have the capability of using illusionary magics, she does not use it to aid her in battle, or at all for that matter. Preferring longer weapons, perhaps because the dance looks more beautiful and it keeps her in a safer range, she is quite skilled at using pole-arms. What she does not have in strength, she attempts to make up for in speed and agility. Physically, she would be no match for a stronger opponent and avoids closer range combat if she can. Hand-to-hand wears her down rather easily and if she suffers too many direct blows, it is difficult for her to immediately recover.
In her younger years, Fukayna had been a part of the Order of Vyldi. Though she hid her eyes even back then, she still spoke in volumes and had been developing her skills as an illusionary mage. However, after the peace had begun to be disrupted, her life began to take an unexpected turn. Her allegiance was brought into question and the young woman was forced into making a choice between gods. However, the strict laws that began to take effect taxed her and she felt she was being forced into a limited existence.
Though unable to relinquish her abilities completely, she swore an oath upon her decision to leave the order that she would never again utter another syllable--as her magic is reliant upon her speech and vocal formation of words to activate the spells. Details regarding her leaving the order and detaching herself from her mage heritage remain tightly sealed behind her closed lips. Knowing better than to expect a warm welcome by others given the cold reception to mages, she instead decided to make her refuge in a place under the rule of one who had mated with a mage. She was careful not to bring news of her past with her and is a newer member to the family of assassins.
Sample
A young woman lay in the bed, the thin covers thrown about her lithe frame somewhat messily. The moonlight streamed in through the window, the scattered rays fanning out over her body. Her silver locks appeared an almost translucent, snow white under the lighting. Her chest rose and fell with gradual speed, breathing paced, indicating she was already in slumber. Yet, her heavy sighs dispelled the thought that her rest was a peaceful one. Her lips moved soundlessly as her eyes moved beneath heavy lashes, fingers tightening softly into loose fists that clenched her sheets. Her breathing began to turn labored as the dream continued, her head turning to the other side.
Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes snapped open, the sequence immediately coming to a hazy halt. Her brows knit closer together as the woman shakily released her grip upon her sheets. The crease on her forehead that came from this motion was unseen, as always, for her bangs fell over her eyes, hiding the top section of her face from proper view. As always, she had woken in a slight panic, mouth half open and agape as if a word was about to escape her. A shiver ran through her body as she leaned forwards to bring her sheets closer about her.
'Another night terror...' She mentally lamented to herself, lashes tilted downwards as she attempted to catch her breath. Just as the night before and for as many nights as she could remember since leaving her position as a mage, she had been plagued by nightmares. It did not matter how the dreams started out, if perhaps she glimpsed a familiar face or two from her past--it always ended the same. She was running, clutching tightly to her furs, heels clicking on the ground. She could not ever see behind her but the fear and dread that filled her stomach told her that they were close--they were watching her attempted escape.
Fukayna shook her head to clear her mind of the visions from the nightmare. No, it was best not to dwell on that night... best not to dwell on her decision. The past was the past and she had chosen a different future than the one she was nearly forced to live. Swallowing down the fear that always came from remembering even the faintest detail, she sighed once more before carefully lifting up her sheets and sliding out of the bed. There was a small creak that came from the movement but nothing that disturbed the overall silence of the night. She grabbed her furs which had been laid at the foot of her bed while she had been sleeping and wrapped them around her arms, the fluffy ends hitting her legs delicately.
She paid it no heed as she walked over to the window, a breeze working it's way through the gap between the glass and the wall, sifting through her hair. The feeling was a welcome one, a vague relief from the experience her mind seemed keen on distorting and reliving. Though privately, she knew it also came from her hesitance. It had not been long since her departure and she was having difficulty acclimating to her new environment.
'Acceptance is an odd thing indeed...' She thought wryly, an odd sort of pained smile finding it's way to her lips. For most of her life, things had been meticulous, planned--everything had always fallen into it's proper place. And her voice, how she missed the sound that had fallen from her lips. But no amount of mourning or want would bring that part of her life back. No, she had renounced that. That was the price she had to pay for her freedom--for her escape from a life tied down by a leash.
She lowered her gaze away from the window as she turned from it, walking back over to her bed. It would do little for her health if she spent the night thinking about such things. Fukayna took off her furs, once again laying them at the foot of the bed before settling down on her mattress. She grabbed her covers and once again brought them over herself, the fabric crinkled where she still held it with her hands. She forced her eyes closed. Things would be better once she woke up in the morning, at least, that was what she told herself as she willed herself back to sleep.