Vaelin Morvae
Vaelin Morvae — Origin
Vaelin Morvae was not born wicked.
She was forged.
She was the second eldest of four children, born into poverty beneath the shadow of the Sephyven Kingdom. Above her stood one older brother. Below her, twin siblings—a boy and a girl—too young to fend for themselves. From an early age, Vaelin dreamed of silk instead of rags, marble halls instead of rotting floors, of marrying into wealth and power. But dreams were a luxury she could not afford.
She was of age, yet trapped—forced into motherhood for children she did not birth.
Their mother was one of many concubines of the Emperor, bound to his harem while married to a villager. Each night she returned home exhausted, bruised in spirit and body, bathing silently before collapsing into sleep. Their father was an alcoholic and a gambler, absent more often than present. When he did return, it was to steal the money their mother earned or to force himself upon her, fueled by jealousy and suspicion that the Emperor had fathered all his children—save the eldest son.
That suspicion turned to resentment.
Resentment turned to abandonment.
Debt swallowed him whole.
One night, he returned home desperate to collect funds to satisfy a debt collector—unaware he had been followed.
Vaelin’s older brother saw the intruders first.
In the twins’ room, he came face-to-face with his father’s darkest consequences. Before he could react, his head slid across the floor. Blood painted the walls, soaked the twins’ bedding, and splashed across Vaelin’s face as she jolted awake.
Her scream split the house.
Their parents rushed in—their father drunk, barely standing, spontoon clutched in his hand. Their mother, realizing her eldest son lay butchered, grabbed the twins and fled to another room.
Vaelin did not move.
She watched.
That night, instead of alcohol, her father had brought home a bottle of Bloodshade—a forbidden substance in Saphyven. She realized then why he was still standing. He cut down two intruders with unnatural strength, but his stamina waned as he battled the third.
Vaelin drank what remained of the Bloodshade.
The final two men impaled her father, tearing him apart. Half of his body landed at her feet. She did not scream. She did not flinch. Storm clouds gathered outside as the men advanced on her, weapons raised.
Then—
BOOM.
A purple light struck the house.
Time seemed to halt.
“I want you to chop off his head,” she muttered, Bloodshade dripping from her lips.
Steel sang.
She smiled.
“Good boy,” she whispered.
“Now finish yourself. I have business to handle.”
She went to her mother.
“Mother… he’s dead.”
Vaelin ran into her arms. The embrace was stiff. Cold.
“Well deserved,” her mother choked through tears.
“He tore our family apart from the beginning. I praise the Most High for taking him early.”
Vaelin’s gaze darkened.
“And my brother?”
Thunder rolled outside.
Her mother met her eyes, sharp and unyielding.
“What good was he? Just like his father. Useless. Wasting his days training instead of providing. He would’ve done better chasing after that drunk.”
Vaelin did not hesitate.
Her blade slit her mother’s throat.
“Cheap whore,” she hissed.
“Watch your mouth.”
The twins screamed.
Another lightning strike—
and their terror dissolved into obedience.
“Forget this night,” Vaelin whispered, pulling them close.
They collapsed into sleep.
By dawn, she brewed tea as if nothing had happened.
Every person in Sephyven was born with an ability. Vaelin’s had always been minor—brief illusions she used to entertain the twins. But the Bloodshade had changed something. Strengthened it. Twisted it.
When the twins awoke, they fled from her screaming.
“Evil witch!”
She learned then: her illusions could now bend will, though only temporarily.
“Come to me,” she commanded.
They obeyed.
They accused her.
She raged.
The storm returned—this time without lightning, only thunder shaking the walls.
She grabbed them both.
“My last gift to you… freedom.”
She threw them into the fire.
They burned until the sun rose.
“Do you need help?”
A voice echoed behind her.
A recruiter. Sent to collect new blood for the kingdom’s forces.
Vaelin stepped outside and saw opportunity.
She cast one final illusion—making him believe intruders had slaughtered her family, that he arrived just in time to save her from violation and death. She knew the spell would fade.
So she vowed to stay close.
Until she no longer needs him.
