Eirlys Background
From Ars Magica
During the climax of the Schism War, one Esyllt ex Diedne had eluded her Tremere and Flambeau pursuers, escaping into a faerie regio in Wales. The Tremere who had led the March against her had been delighted when an ambassador from the winter fey presented him with their captive. In exchange for the renegade they sought, he negotiated that the magi who had long been harvesting vis in their regio, would release the fey from the bargain which forced them to tolerate the magi's intrusion every year. The Tremere agreed, and his Flambeau companions incinerated Esyllt as she lay in her enchanted sleep. What the Tremere did not know was that Esyllt had a lover among the fey; that which they incinerated was the creation of a particularly skillful redcap. Rather than seek out her fellows and plot revenge, however, the maga opted to live out the rest of her days in peace there, passing the Diedne heritage on to her line.
It has been the turn of six cycles, by our reckoning, since my grandmother passed on at the ripe old age of four-hundred-and-two. Her legendary skill with Corpus served her well. I miss her terribly. While I read all the texts Mother gives me, and listen to her lectures, I miss Grandma's teachings. She had a way of instructing that made everything interesting, while Mother's methods are so ascetic.
A human magus ventured here to celebrate Beltaine with us. Fortunate for him that he did not make this attempt while Gran Esyllt still lived. He sees the Gift in me and would take me for apprentice, unaware that I have been apprenticed to my mother for quite some time. I believe I will go with him, however. Mother has other children and will bear more yet, and in truth, we have not been very close. While she has as much fey blood as mortal, in her mind she is a human woman. In contrast, I am more fey than mortal: not merely in blood, but in essence. She spends more time with books than with Father (who has all but forgotten her), and I feel her cold disapproving glares while I celebrate the changing seasons. Since the most noble maga who ever graced the courts of Arcadia passed from life, relations with my mother have been strained. (I loved Esyllt as the mother I should have had, while Seren only respected her power.) She will not be happy about my decision. I believe it's less that she wants me to stay, and more that she is jealous that she cannot take leave herself. She looks very much as Grandmother (though the two couldn't be more different in personality), which in the Hermetic world, would mean death, from any who might remember. It has been less than two centuries, as the outside world reckons time, since House Diedne was expelled. (On charges of infernalism, no less. Oh, sweet irony, my dear Tremere.)
I've spoken with Alithas (that's my father) -- he thinks it's a fine idea that I learn what lies outside of Arcadia, so long as I promise to come visit often. I know that he wants me to stay, but he sees the sparkle in my eyes when I think of striking out to live on my own. The outside world has much yet for me to learn... before the memories of my grandmother's great deeds fade.
To be fair, there could be worse masters than Drystan ex Merinita. He is handsome to a fault, and fancies himself in love with me. He is prudish, as well... though less so than most mortals. Despite the fondness for me he feels as a result of his attraction, it vexes him that he does not understand me, and cannot control me. I believe it is this, and not my skill from my previous training, which leads him to gauntlet me so early. It is no true import, however. There is still much I have yet to learn. Now I seek a covenant where I might start anew, on equal footing with my sodales.
