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Name: Rhaele Genevieve Davies
Date of Birth: 31, December, 1422
Age: 28 (Looks) 597 (Real)
Species: Ailward Guard - Nephilim
Place of Birth: Canterbury, England
Relationship Status: Single
Face Claim: Emilia Clarke
| Eloquent | Cynical | Vivacious | Egocentric | Outspoken | Opinionated | Skeptical | Tactless |
Miranda was pretty much the jewel of the family. She was such a doting daughter and everyone liked her. It was almost impossible to dislike the flaxen-haired female when she kept smiling as if there was no burden hanging off her shoulders. But when a marriage that was purely political was struck one day by both parties; the Davies and Clairmont, it was as if every happiness got sucked out of her body, leaving an empty vessel with nothing but resentment and shame. Miranda was once promised by her father, the Lord Clairmont, that she would not be tied to any sorts of arrangements regarding her future, that she would be free to choose her own spouse because her happiness had mattered the most to her family, especially her father who only seemed to want a prosperous and bright future for his family.
However, as soon as her 16th nameday arrived, the marriage contract between the two families were bargained and agreed without any consent from the eldest daughter of the Clairmont household. Like the Davies, the Clairmont was once a wealthy family. Once. That word had somehow led to Miranda's 'honorable' sacrifice. The Clairmonts were known for their pure lineage, each and every single one turned out to be Nephilim, and it was an added exchange to know that despite the wealth eating away their situations, they still had the name. Her aunt, Sera Clairmont, was directly connected to the previous royal family. Fortunately for Miranda, the Davies were nice folks, they treated her well with warmth during her stay at their estate for a few months before her marriage. Miranda wasn't foreign to the Davies' perfectionist traits that ran across the family because she grew up in a strict household just as much. Her betroth; Henri Davies, was charming. He was your ideal tall, well-mannered, and sophisticated man. It was of no surprise to see how quick her family were smitten by him and for a while, she did too.
It didn't last long for Miranda, who only ever got to see a brief glimpse of his 'kindness' whenever he was in public. It was as if he wasn't the same person, before, he had wooed her successfully with his charming looks and manners. They were supposed to have many mutual interests but somehow, it occurred to the eldest Clairmont, that whatever she and others saw was just a facade. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no kindness after they married, Miranda was forced to keep to herself and would not dare to speak ill regarding her husband. They moved from Paris to Canterbury, leaving the poor girl with no company she was close to. It was foreign land for her, she's always kept herself in the Clairmont residency back in Paris. Now, she was forced to adapt to the new living quarters and life under her rather cold and uncaring husband that managed to fool even his own family who remained unaware of his mistreatment to her.
Regardless of how quickly Henri grew bored of Miranda's company, a year later, she bore him his firstborn; a son. It was a celebratory event, everyone was happy with the news of her pregnancy before and having known that she bore him a son to inherit his riches only fueled everyone's happiness even more. Henri was elated, and for a while, he treated her well. It wasn't a sudden shift from his old personality but he was a bit more caring about her health and well-being. They talked a few times, it was very worthwhile to her. Xavier Davies became a bundle of joy for everyone. His mother, especially, loved him very much for bringing back the hope and shed light to their household. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. For Miranda's case, it was the loss of Xavier. One day, he fell a victim to smallpox that eventually took his life. The mourning period was painful, Miranda wouldn't stop bawling and Henri changed again, he grew ever colder and didn't care which female he brought home with.
For the next 5 years, she tried and tried relentlessly to get another child but to no avail, she wasn't able to conceive another time. There were rumors spreading regarding her fertility, and for someone who was supposed to uphold a certain reputation such as Henri, he vowed to put an end to the ill rumors for good. It was put to an end but to ways both of the husband and wife did not expect since it was supposed to be carried out in two different methods. Henri wanted to divorce Miranda but divorcing the eldest daughter of Rickard Clairmont is pretty much serving his own reputation on a platter that will stay dent forever. Miranda let our a tear-stained plea that night, begging for whatever cosmic power the world has to give her another chance at conceiving. There was no love in their marriage no more and it has been that way for 5 years already. It wasn't until then that Miranda came through with news of her pregnancy. Nobody knew whether it was a baby boy or girl but there wasn't a care in the world. Despite that, Henri still remained cold to her.
On New Year's Eve, a baby girl was born. Rhaele Genevieve Davies. Unfortunately, the eldest Clairmont did not get the chance to live out the rest of her days in peace to watch her daughter grow up. Dying at childbirth was a norm then and it wasn't surprising to see her passing, even more so when Miranda was already so frail but still chose to risk her life to bring her baby girl into the world. It was a unique first name, one her aunt asked why it was chosen as it is her first time hearing that name and Miranda's younger sister, Madria, who helped her through childbirth told her it was because Miranda wanted her child to be the first. Of anything. While Genevieve was the name of her great grandmother. Madria swore an oath to her sister that she would take care of her and protect Rhaele from everyone, especially Henri, who wasn't even saddened by the news of his wife's death. The funeral was a somber affair, the widow did not stay long and the only person who cared enough for Miranda was busy nursing her baby girl that was left motherless the moment she opened her eyes.
That was 15 years ago, contrary to other people's belief, Rhaele grew up into a fair maiden that excelled in music. You could always find her strumming the strings on the harp. It was the only thing she received from her father. Henri never cared for her, Rhaele resembled her mother too much and had nothing of her father which fueled some rumors on how she wasn't her child at all.
Regardless of the meaningless accusations that remained rumors, Henri knew Rhaele was indeed his daughter, even if he didn't wish to proclaim her as his. It could be seen very clearly with the way she played the harp. It was a musical skill Henri forgot so long ago, even in his increasing age, he never married another, he often claimed that he did not love Rhaele and how she was just an offspring; the heiress of his fortune, nothing more. It was one of the main factors fueling the betrothal requests coming in hot. Everyone wanted to marry a Davies, which was still known as one of the wealthiest families to live there.
The Clairmonts were known as one of the most prominent pure-blooded Nephilim families in France. But the Davies were nowhere near the same rank. They were just regular humans who knew nothing about the supernatural world. However the Clairmonts managed to keep their lives well without a slight slip up was impressive especially when not even Henri knew what his daughter was when he heard from Rhaele's maid that she had an angelic runic mark on her body. They were unaware of what it meant and only thought it was due to Rhaele's childhood injury. On her 8th nameday, she had coincidentally fell from the tree after climbing too high. The branch snapped and she fell into the river. Thankfully, the mischievous child did not drown but did have a scar running on her back because of the cut she received from the sharp rocks. Madria made sure to keep it a secret but knew it was only a matter of time before the secret to her identity was revealed. From that day onwards, Madria changed her entire household staff to people she trusted hailing all the way from Paris. Surprisingly, Henri didn't object.
Helen of Troy? Not quite. Rhaele did not want to get married so early when she knew there is so much more to her than just a token of bargain. She had a future for herself, the flaxen-haired female wanted to be the one who will be continuing her father's trades, one day. Every marriage arrangements were denied and rejected, it amused Henri to see how stubborn his daughter was being, all because she wanted to be the one who continues the family's legacy first before settling down as a housewife. She took care of the trading and bartering business while his father laid sick in bed for the next 10 years. At 25, she was already a successful independent woman who could provide for herself and even then, she still did not want to be tied down to anyone. Seeing as she kept travelling around, the chances of meeting her was almost to none. How could they? She always moved around, equally excited and enthusiastic to find something new about the world. Hopping from one country to another, she was quick to strike a trade deal with the Spaniards that came across her voyage, a few times.
She was truly happy with her discoveries that offered her a chance to seek out endless possibilities of the world itself. For the next 5 years, she traveled diligently and was constantly learning new things, until the news of her father's chronic illness prompted her to return home to accompany him at his dying bed. It was very unfortunate to hear that she did not manage to arrive home to her father's embrace because of the problem with her ship.
Of course, Rhaele knew nothing regarding that. The thunderstorms crashed in with the help of the clouds raining heavily as if it was trying to let the strong waves hitting her ship, devour every part of it. Holding onto everything onboard was pretty much the only survival instinct the entire crew had. This was it, she told herself. The end of her. And she didn't even get the chance of bidding farewell to her father properly. Her chest felt tight as it was filled with regrets, and hearing the sorrowful cries of her crew was another highlight of the day.
All Rhaele remembered was drowning, and something pulling her down, a weight strapped around her legs which made it impossible for her to swim away, before she was eventually engulfed by the dark.
Waking up on a bed in god knows where would freak anyone out. Period. Rhaele was not an exception to that, as soon as she woke up surrounded by blankets and comfortable sheets, she was so tempted to bask in the warmth for a little while longer but her instincts jump started everything and got her breathing heavily from shock, especially after recalling what had happened to her. The room was dim-lighted, it was almost homey had it not been due to Rhaele's own conscious self feeling like she just got kidnapped. Sneaking out wasn't a problem and it had been on her mind ever since she set her foot outside the room; to escape. She wasn't about to be held a prisoner against her own will. But the moment she peeked her head outside, she saw people fighting. No, not fighting. The closer she got, the clearer her vision was, they were sparring. Some were even laughing after greeting the ground. They were… having fun? It occurred to Rhaele that perhaps she wasn't exactly kidnapped but rather, saved.
That was until she peeked a little closer and tripped, the Nephilim heard footsteps coming closer and closed her eyes shut, hoping that she wasn't in trouble. "You can open your eyes, I don't bite, my sister is the one who does" her voice was mellifluous, clear and serene. Rhaele knew her as Octavia, the person she never thought she would develop an attachment to. Unfortunately, the late Madria never disclosed anything regarding her Nephilim lineage to her, she only ever said that she was different, which Rhaele only knew to be as a metaphor instead. Learning from A to Z under the guidance of Octavia did her good, she's never been more interested in finding out more about the Nephilim and other supernatural species alike. Apparently, when her ship sank, some of the Guards were scouting the nearby area and saved them. Her crew did not manage to survive, however. She was offered the opportunity to serve in the Guard if she had nowhere else to go. It didn't sound like a bad idea either, Rhaele had nothing to lose. She had nobody else. She was on her own.
Upon swearing her allegiance and loyalty to the Ailward Aspects, she trained under the supervision of the Trainers diligently, hoping to hone her skills as she goes on, the skills a Nephilim should have had but due to her repressed childhood, was taken away from. Like many others in the Guard, she was gifted an immortality ring from the Aspect of Life, Virindeus. Years slowly turned to decades and decades turned to centuries. Rhaele spent her entire time exploring the world while carrying out her duties and slowly climbed the ranks where she found her passion in being a medic. Her natural skepticism played a huge role in determining her path in life but she found it hard to push away someone who asks for help.
The fall of the Isle struck her hard just like it struck many others in the faction as it had been her home for centuries, and a center where everyone was accepted without any judgement. You can be whoever you want to be there. When they settled in Evermore, Rhaele too, tried to settle down. It wasn't the Isle but home is wherever if you make it out to be, right?