Name Silva Lothair of Calandae
Age 28
Sex Male
Occupation High Seat of House Calandae
Status and Rank Noble
Roots and Origin
Lystria Arkas was a vain, ambitious woman of little noble blood. She was beautiful, though, and she knew it all too well. The night she met Tarsus of House Calandae in a social gathering, she set her eyes on him. The heir to the House had strong elven blood, and retained the entrancing features of his non-human ancestors. However, he was easily seduced by a human—beautiful, but still a pure human. As Lystria had hoped for, the man was oblivious of her intentions. She found reasons to visit him, and attended every gathering he did. Soon, it was Tarsus who invited her to his home. He had fallen for her charms, and soon married her.
As soon as Tarsus took his place as the High Seat, Lystria indulged herself in what she has and always will love: power and riches. She demanded attention and pampering, and she cared little about Tarsus. Her clueless husband found it odd, but whenever he’d confront her, Lystria would use her charms on him, and everything would be forgotten ‘till the next time he noticed something. As it was, Calandae had a kind but weak head. Lystria perfectly enjoyed her queenly position until she had to take the responsibility she took when she married Tarsus: to bear his heir.
It was rumored that Lystria screamed so loud her bedchamber’s windows shattered when she realized her tummy was larger. Even in his mother’s womb, Silva was already being cursed by his own mother. In front of her husband, she smiled and shared his joy at her being pregnant. In her mind, she hated the thing for ruining her figure. She lost most of her freedom while she was with child, and when she gave birth to a boy, she never wanted to get pregnant again.
However, Lystria was a woman whose wants always grew, and soon she found her husband tiring. She started approaching other men, having affairs with the powerful ones. Tarsus, the poor, naïve chap, never suspected a thing. Lystria exposed herself, though by getting pregnant again although it was years since they last shared a bed. After forcing a confession from her, Tarsus of House Calandae went into a severe psychological breakdown. For months, he ignored his duties and lost his appetite. He locked himself in his bedroom for weeks on end that seeing him in the halls was a miracle for the servants. Unless anyone forced himself to, he wouldn’t bathe or change clothes. Lystria tried to soothe him, but he violently refused to see her. Most of the nobles were clueless to what might have caused it, but some smarter ones knew it had to do with his wife. The servants knew even more. Rumor spread that their mistress was pregnant with the child of Tarsus’ closest friend, but only the couple knew the truth. Their master shunned all his advisors and talked only to his six-year-old son, Silva.
The same night Silva’s half sister was born, Tarsus crept into his wife’s bedchamber and pressed a pillow on her face. After she had stopped breathing, he walked past the baby sleeping in a crib nearby and hung a rope from the chandelier. Why he spared the bastard child, nobody will ever know. The next morning, a servant found the High Seat hanging from the ceiling with a rope around his neck.
Appearance
“The Golden Prince” was what he was called as a baby, and it is also what his sister calls him fondly to tease him. He was called this because of the color of his eyes and hair. Even his complexion is sometimes described as “golden”, being a certain shade of tan that resembles it. He inherited his father’s narrow but soft facial features, but not the elven ears. His waist-long hair may look effeminate, but high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a calculating stare, and a long, thin-lipped mouth emanate a forbidding countenance. He is tall and not very muscled, though he cannot be called slender.
Silva wears clothes that show who he is. His wardrobe is filled with elaborate suits of white, blue, or green, many with gold embroidery and all high-collared. On some occasions, he wears a trailing robe of black, gold, and silver. His traveling cloaks are all white with the House’s insignia in yellow on the back. Hanging from a sash across his chest is a black scabbard with a small gold inscription of a coat of arms (although it is not his House’s). This holds his saber.
Strengths
Weaponry. Although he cannot use all weapons, he knows the abilities of each one: the range of a crossbow or longbow, the kinds or forms of swords and their advantages and weaknesses, etc. His knowledge includes how such weapons should be used in an infantry.
Logic. Silva has an analytical mind, cynical and rarely trusting outer appearances of things. He will believe something if he sees it, or if his trusted men confirm it.
Assertive. He is not one to stay quiet when he wants something done. He has little patience for sweet talk and minor politics, so he expresses himself straightforwardly.
Swords and bows. Silva is a skilled swordsman and an accurate archer, although his firing range is not as good. He can use a wide range of swords, though he is most skilled with the saber, which is why he wears one.
Reading. He is a very wide reader, and books are where he gets most of his knowledge of battles and weapons.
Weaknesses
Politics. This irritates him and, as he says, does not deserve his patience. He can lie to the teeth, but more complicated things, like manipulating people’s emotions and decisions are much more difficult than simply ordering people around, which is the way he prefers it. He is more concerned with the outcome of political workings, and chooses to leave such matters to his sister, who seems more skilled.
Unemotional and cold. He never lets emotions inhibit his decisions: his are for the greater good, or for his good. Everyone else are lesser humans.
Lack of patience. He can reign his temper in, but he hates waiting. Results have to come first, or else.
Irritable. Things and people (stupid ones, for example) irritate him easily. Once he’s irritated enough, it’s harder to control his temper.
Cynical. He is always doubtful of people, except those who have long proven their loyalty.
Lack of actual experience. Most of what he knows comes from books only. He has yet to lead a battle against a military enemy.
Socializing. Silva can hardly continue a simple conversation, much less start one. He can only talk a lot when it comes to military or political matters.
His sister. She is the only person who can put him down and make him feel embarrassed enough to shut up. He fears her tongue and admires her skill with politics. His little sister is the only one who can make him do anything.
Personality
Authoritative and hawkish, Silva has a cold and intimidating air. Even those who have not yet experienced his anger can simply guess but his low, icy tone that it can indeed be dangerous. He is the opposite of his father, as some might say. While he gives reasonable orders, he resents incompetents and will punish them accordingly. To Silva, accordingly is always severe. Traitors and mutineers are even in more trouble with him. The High Seat of House Calandae wants no time wasted in serving him.
While his punishments are sometimes violent, he rarely delivers it himself. He deals retribution only if he was done a personal offense. Silva also seems to have inherited his mother’s thirst for power. He doesn’t openly oppose the king or plot to kill him, but he does plan to elbow his way to the throne once the king is dead.
Silva treats superiors and people of the same level with respect. He may hate them, but he will not insult them unless they start (nor will he flatter anyone). All nobles are spoken to in a cool, apathetic tone—to him, this is equality. Silva talks to people of lower rank sparingly, and when he does, his voice always has an authoritative edge.
When taken away from his duties, Silva enjoys a good book or a healthy spar. He uses his saber even in spars, but he never mortally wounds his opponent. In fact, he encourages his opponent to do the same. Those two are his only pastimes, as he abhors flirting. He thinks women are the source of men’s suffering and his sister’s wickedly playful attitude towards him proves that.
He may look intimidating most of the time, but Silva treats those loyal to him like family. They are the only ones he smiles to, and he never talks coldly to them. His sister, his actual closest family number, is always met with a slight frown. Dealing with her is bothersome to him.
Magic He does not believe it exists anymore. In fact, he thinks Slayers are the stuff of fairy tales, and that magic has died in Olencia. Stories of them abducting are just there to scare children. Ironically, he has an object made from magic: his trusty saber. It was given to him by his mentor, Mathias, although both of them are not aware of its ability. The sword has a simple ability: it cannot break and it will not dull, but only for a given time. The sword had enough protective magic to last it fifty years, and Mathias has had it for twenty. The sword was made ten years before it came into the soldier’s hands, giving it a remaining twenty years. When it loses its magic, the sword will shatter, including the scabbard.
History
Silva was born into a curious world. His mother rarely attended to him; in fact, he remembers wet nurses feeding him, not his mother. He saw so little of her that after a while, he stopped bawling and accepted the fact that his mother wasn’t going to be around. His father, on the other hand, was a lot more present. Tarsus would read to the little boy and play games with him, but little of those were ever concluded. Silva’s father was often called away by his mother or some man in a fancy coat, to the young noble’s dismay. Still, Silva loved his father a little more than he did his mother.
Tarsus’ book reading developed in Silva an interest to read. As soon as he could read, the boy drank in everything he could from every book he could find. His tutors were mildly impressed with Tarsus’ heir as he learned very quickly and he could already read and write when they started with him, all thanks to his father.
All in all, Silva lived a happy, generally spoiled life. And then his father changed.
The first he noticed of it was when his mother banged on his father’s door, demanding to be let in. Silva watched this until Lystria noticed him and hugged him. Silva stared curiously and asked, “Why?” She didn’t answer him. The next day, he visited his father and was let in. Although the room was in a mess and his father looked very tired, the man smiled and talked to him. They played for hours, doing what Silva liked. No one at all could make Tarsus leave the room. After a few days of the same thing, Silva started to like his father that way.
One day, Tarsus talked oddly. “Don’t be like me,” he told his son. “Remember that nothing is what it seems. Trust no one, not even yourself.” Although Silva didn’t understand what it meant, he kept the words in memory.
The morning after that, he woke up early. He found servants outside his parents’ room. Some were crying, and some stared in through the open door. No one noticed him squeeze in and run to his mother’s bedroom. He found a confusing scene: his mother was lying on the bed with several people surrounding her, and his father was just being covered by a white sheet as he lay rigidly on the floor. A crying baby was in a servant’s arms.
“Why?” came the perpetually unanswered question. The servants and advisors finally noticed him and whisked him away from the room.
It took more than a friend of his father to make the truth sink in. He would rather believe a familiar servant than a total stranger. His father was gone, and so was his mother. They would never come back, and they left a pale baby for him to take care of because she was his sister. Silva cried and moped and threw away the toys they gave him. He demanded that they bring back his parents. Of course, that was impossible.
Silva eventually got tired of his tantrums, but only because he had another way of venting his frustration: his sister. He hated his sister because he thought she caused their parents’ death. He would enter her nursery and make her cry, and when at one time, he wounded her, his guardians decided to separate the siblings. Silfene, as her mother named her, was sent to another noble relative while Silva stayed at his father’s house with the appointed regent, a distant uncle. Both siblings grew up groomed and under constant attention, thus both developed independent personalities. Every once in a while, their uncles and aunts would get them together, but those meetings were formal, with adults beside them the whole time. Silva spent every meeting causing Silfene some kind of harm (only the childish kind, though), so she was quickly taken away until, they hoped, Silva forgot why he didn’t like her in the first place. That, unfortunately, did not happen.
With puberty came curiosity. Silva, an educated young noble by then, suddenly wanted to know how his parents died. Till then, that was kept from him. After all, how could they tell the boy that his beloved father killed his mother? The boy investigated and questioned the old servants and even his uncles, and he somehow got a gist of the truth. Remarkably, it didn’t affect him the way they thought it would. To Silva, his father was his sanest during his last days; never was everything so clear to Tarsus. In fact, Silva thought his mother deserved what she got. He finally understood what his father meant, and started taking those words to heart.
A few years later, Silva’s relatives thought it appropriate to re-introduce the siblings to each other. The last Silfene had seen of her brother was when she was six, and they thought she deserved her brother’s acknowledgement. She was brought to the old manor, but they didn’t quite get along.
Silva found his little sister overly affectionate in so short a time, and he found it irritating. Although he realized he had been mean to her for no good reason, he still disliked his half sister. When Silfene moved in, he avoided her as much as possible, but that didn’t stop Silfene from playfully poking or teasing him. Silva interpreted it as pure wickedness; she did truly love annoying her brother.
Silfene was not his only problem. He was nearing the proper age, and soon he would have to take his rightful position. Silva was taught twice as often, and sword training was added to his studies. His mentor was an old member of the King’s Guard named Mathias, who not only taught him how to use a broad sword but a lot more, including battle tactics he himself learned. Silva took it all in, interested in the use of the military for control. Mathias became a second father to him, unlike his uncle who was a mere legal guardian.
When Silva became High Seat, he appointed Mathias as his advisor. He wasted no time in making steps to secure his position as king when the present one died. With the help of his most trusted advisor, he started a small personal army. However, an army could threaten the King’s power sooner than he planned, so he had to disguise his reasons for establishing one. He turned to his sister, who helped him carry out the plan. Silfene had people paying brigands to attack more, and even in cities, including Haven. They were promised immunity when caught. She also orchestrated a bloody battle in Maloren (this idea was entirely hers) between the citizens and a few of her brother’s men. Silva wasn’t informed of it and was outraged, but it worked quite well. Silva had to “ensure Calandae lands safety” with men of his own, separate from the distant capital. The fact hidden from others, his men grew in number. Silva had his small army. All he had to do was wait for the king to die without an heir, and then impose his military power on the capital.