Aria of Sylvania

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Resourceful + Courageous

AriA

“Breathe of life” IS Destined

to be Prima Frauchen, the female ruler holding the Seat of Sylvania. Eldest Daughter of Natura + Forth, Granddaughter of Idylla + Irminsul, Aria is the physical manifestation of the Air Element. As she matures, she realizes how to best exert the powers she possesses for the collective good: She can sing, shapeshift at will, fly, and she provides breath to all living creatures.

ARIA, FALKE  + GABE’s  puppy Ceflad


    Aria is most comfortable in the primal boreal forests around Sylvan Lodge. Her allies include the Lords + Ladies of Demetria, the Tridents of Oceania, Sedna and the Selkies of Atlantis, and Aria’s own Tuathe Dei Donaan Tribe of Sylvania. Titan of Industralia wishes first for his son Typhus to possess her, but if needs be, he will destroy her.

 

from Chapter One/book One

...Since learning of my parents murders, I have been cloistered alone in my tree-nook in Uniwyld Forest, for my own safety, and that of those I love. Night Mares have plagued my sleep since I escaped Sylvan Lodge. With each harrowing visit, the scenes of my parents murders becomes clearer.. Clearer, and more terrifying.


        Next, will I see the hands and faces of my parent’s murderers? Will I see learn the identity of the Automatons, by the crest on their shields? What, then? Will I have the courage to seek out and vanquish the Brutes who killed my parents, punish the Automatons who stood by and did nothing?


    Darkness of night and residue of dream panic press on me. I pull my bearskin sleeping rugs close under my chin.  Gabe, my blue merle mastiff, snuggles closer, sensing my despair. I touch his massive skull, begin to time the rise and fall of my own breath with Gabe’s familiar exhalations, and my heart rate slows. Gabe’s presence and glimpses of my sisters through my oculus have brought the only measure of comfort and reassurance I know.


     I am lonely, haunted by unbidden longings, and continue to pine for a life I will not have.The well fed, challis-dressed winters spent with my sisters curled with books in front of gaping fires at Sylvan Lodge, our long hair carefully braided each morning by Natura, must be forgotten. Memories persist, too painful to bear. A Sylvania without Natura and Forth is unimaginable to me.


            I look to the trees, and the skies, faraway Mount Donaan, Blythe and Dagda for strength. In my most desperate moments, the cliff overlooking Cold Trout Stream calls me, and I wish to be fully absorbed by the natural sanctity that surrounds me, as I my parents have been.




  Read “ARia of Sylvania: Book One”