FAEREN (pronounced: Fair-in)
Race: Silene (later transformed into Forestkind)
Eye color: Dark brown
Hair color/style: Dark Auburn/brown, short and curly
Distinctions: In his transformed state, his eyes become green, and moss and small plants appear on his skin, clothing, and in his hair. Also, he really loves tea.
Orphaned by war as a child, Faeren was fostered by Kaiit’s family and later adopted by Faldevon, the Queen’s consort, who took Faeren back to the palace and raised him alongside his own son, Luke. A quick learner with a compassionate nature, Faeren adapted quickly to the life of honor and discipline that nobility required of him. He was soft-spoken and kind, made friends easily, and grew to become a capable soldier and respectable young knight in Silon’s Royal Guard.
~Story~
One day, at fourteen years old, Faeren stumbled upon the borders of a dread forest known as the Forest of Illusions while out riding with his impetuous brother, Prince Luke. Curiously, though he had never traveled this far north before, the sight of the tall, twisted and moss-laden trees somehow seemed very familiar to him. He felt like he was being watched from their shadows. A voice called out to him as though it knew him, and called him “Child.” The voice begged him to stay with her, to play in her branches and sleep in her shade and sing her songs. But Faeren had been warned about this place—this dangerous trickster forest and its malevolent Mistress that had swallowed many a soul—and both he, and the now rather spooked Prince Luke, turned away. They returned home and never spoke of this.
Many years later, war stirred anew on Avenan with the rise of the Wilderlord Morgan, and all kingdoms were called to answer—most especially the Silon royal family. The young prince Luke went missing, and his mother Queen Shion allowed herself to be captured in a risky gamble with the rebel warlord himself. For a full year following this, Faeren and his father Faldevon took to a desperate search and pursuit of their family, that would ultimately led them to the mountains of the Nefar range in the north. They obtained information regarding Morgan’s plan and ideals through costly skirmishes with the Illusionists (a tribe of people and creatures who once lived in peaceful symbiosis with nature as Forestkind, but who chose to side with Morgan and use their ability to deceive with light and shadow to gain advantages in battle.)
During a harrowing skirmish in which Morgan himself was drawn out, Faeren was killed by him while protecting Faldevon. Not long after, Morgan was forced to retreat—not by the conflict but rather by the sudden confusion and scattering of both groups of men in fear for their lives. A dense fog had arisen seemingly from nowhere to cloak the battlefield and hide the sun, and many feared The Rover (the will of the land itself) was about to swallow them up. The Nefar Mountains bordered not only the Forest of Illusions, but also the Valley of Roses and Thorns (the site of a centuries-old battle and the many warning tales surrounding it), and was considered by most to be a heavily cursed place.
Faldevon’s party struggled to regroup, and several of his men lost in the fog were never found. Some bodies could not be recovered–including Faeren’s–no matter how desperate the search. Although, by some strange miracle, when they returned to their encampment in the valley, they found the long-missing Prince Luke waiting quietly in his father’s tent. He was thin and bruised and silent, seeming flighty and delusional, and could not explain where he had been the past year or how he had come to find the camp. Faldevon, still grieving and searching unsuccessfully for Faeren, had no choice but to retreat for the sake of his living and found son’s wellbeing and that of his remaining men, and returned to Redgate.
Faeren knew none of these things.
Days earlier, the Mistress of the Forest had noticed Faeren’s presence among the search parties and skirmishes in the nearby mountains, and mistook it to mean that her Child had returned to answer her call. Thinking him to be seeking her but prevented by his own warlike kind, she ventured from the edge of her dark Wood, and brought with her a great mist. When at last she found him slain, bled out into the leaves and soil, she took the life energy of the nearby trees and growing things and wove it with the residue of his lost life, wove his mortal being into the vastness of her own, and made of him a new creature of the Forest. Her Child.
Faeren awoke to find himself in the Forest of Illusions, scarred but somehow still alive. And more than that, able to hear the voices and songs of the trees and all living things surrounding him, able to feel the pulse of life in everything from the great roots beneath the Forest floor to the exuberance of the tallest branches swaying in the sunlight above. Confused, and worried for the fate of his family and fellow knights, he sought to leave the Forest as soon as strength returned to him, but quickly discovered that he could go no further than the border trees. To step outside was to weaken and die once more, like a tree cut down or a plant pulled up by the roots. It was only by remaining within the Forest’s ancient web of life that his own life was now sustained.
For a time, he wept. And raged. And despaired at the Forest’s gift to him. He thought it a curse. All that he had strived for and cherished in his former life was now denied him. His friends and family and the woman he had been courting (Oriele) all thought him dead now. The affairs of the warring mortal realms were of no concern here in the peace and solitude of the Forest. No weapons here, no kings and knights, no rebel warlords and stolen queens. His companions now were the trees, the animals, and the small illusions made and unmade by his consent. They could neither free nor comfort him in this place no other person dared to visit.
Seasons passed. He felt no hunger or thirst or weariness, for the Forest provided everything he needed. He learned the ways and patterns of nature. He explored every inch of the vast expanse of tangled trees and undergrowth, discovering hidden waterfalls and remnants of old roads that had once welcomed travelers centuries before the Forest had become poisoned and turned against the mortals who desecrated it.
His anger quieted as he learned of the Forest’s history and the tragic origins of The Mistress of Illusion—an ethereal embodiment of the Forest itself. His loneliness began to subside as compassion urged him to seek an understanding with his captor, even to forgive and comfort her. Though he was not the same child lost to her long ago, he accepted that he had become Forestkind now, and allowed her to continue calling him “Child.” In winter, he slept beside her in a secret meadow at the Heart of the Forest, beneath trees old enough to remember the very first songs of the world, and there he dreamed of ancient things and found peace.
In time, he saw this new life and ability to commune with and cultivate nature as a gift, a new beginning with new purpose, and he became the cherished caretaker of his Forest. He renamed her The Brightwood, learning how truly tranquil and beautiful all was at her heart. He helped The Mistress to heal from her long sorrow and trust in him. He shared his own memories and tales with her, and gained a different perspective of the world and all its living creatures in turn. He caught occasional glimpses of the outside kingdom through the gossip of birds, from vantage points over the valley, and distant sightings of men roaming the hills, but he no longer felt the need to attempt to communicate with them. He was transforming into a creature of the woods, besides, and would probably be feared on sight.
One spring, many years later, he was awakened from a long winter slumber by the sense that all was not well. A voice from his past spoke at the edge of his dreams, seeking contact with him. Going to the edge of his Forest, he found that the land beyond did not seem to be waking alongside him, the trees unnaturally silent, no new greenery to be seen even in the valley below. The voice in his dreams became clearer, until he eventually realized that it belonged to Luke, the brother he thought lost years ago. He was unable to respond, or to understand how this could be, but relief and joy flooded through him, stirring again his longing to know and be known by the world again. He was no longer content to remain the Forest’s secret.
There were other voices, too, belonging to Forestkind, to Illusionists. Their messages carried through the networks of underground roots, through whispers in the wind, through flighty animals. They spoke of pain and betrayal, of an enemy both new and familiar to Faeren–the Wilderlord who had taken his life. They spoke of the corruption of their own kind, of powerful monsters called “Elders” who drained the land of its lifeforce at too great a cost. These creatures defied even The Rover and its Chosen in order to wield nature itself as a weapon against the inhabitants of the mortal kingdoms.
Even though his former life as a knight of Silon was long ended, Faeren’s devotion to his once-family and the desire to protect them yet transcended all boundaries imposed upon his heart. Surely, there must be a way for him to help defend the realm against this threat, to use the extraordinary life and abilities given him by the Forest to intervene–perhaps even to reclaim the power stolen and return it to the land before the silence of all things became absolute! There may yet be more purpose to his new existence than to guard one Forest alone. If only it were possible for him to leave.
He pleaded with The Mistress to help him find a way, but she refused his request, fearing that, once again, she would lose her beloved Child to the savage cruelty of mortals and their endless wars. She shut out the voices so that Faeren could not hear or respond to them, and guarded him like a jealous lover, imprisoning him at the heart of her Forest in the hope that he would submit once more to her embrace and forget.
But her refusal was not the final word, nor would Faeren submit again to helpless isolation. Aided by the providential appearance of a benevolent Illusionist called The Singer, a man with the gift of forest-speak who learned of Faeren’s existence through the “mad ramblings” of the former prince Luke, a perilous chance at a new destiny came within Faeren’s reach. The Singer braved the wrath of The Mistress to make contact with him, and offered him a way of escape, even if only a temporary one–if Faeren were but willing to take the risk. (He also offered him tea.)
Though Faeren’s life was bound forever to his Forest, The Singer’s symbiotic relationship with nature, much like Faeren’s own now, allowed him to harness the essence of nature everywhere he went, and provide Faeren a source of healing and energy for calculated periods of time outside the borders. Faeren accepted, and The Singer became his lifeline as he ventured beyond the edge of the Brightwood on a new journey to learn the truth of the Wilderlord and discover what had become of his former family.
In the months that followed, Faeren would come to learn and test the extent of his own abilities as a creature of the First Forest, and find a way to aid The Rover’s Chosen and friends old and new to safeguard the natural world. He would become known as much for his wisdom and compassion as for his power to command and subdue any who threatened him or the forests under his care. He brought healing in the wake of devastation, and forced even the most powerful of Elders to bow into the dust they themselves had caused in draining the land.
Still further into the future, he would take on the role of ambassador and serve as the communication bridge between the Forestkind and the mortal races. This would eventually bring him face-to-face once more with Morgan. Though, this time, it would be on speaking terms that did not involve bladed weapons.
Even now, every time Faeren leaves the Brightwood, The Mistress follows him in the form of a small, ethereal white fox-cat creature he calls “Snoots.” Ever she hopes to persuade her Child to forsake his lingering ties to the outside world and its many dangers and come home to stay with her forever. Only in winter does he heed her, when the drowsy pull of the changing seasons bids him return to quiet slumber as do the trees and Forest animals, and then he is content in her embrace. And, holding her Child in her arms in the meadow at the heart of their Forest, safe and secure beneath the oldest trees, she too is content.
And so, their story continues.