Luvon, Traitor to Grace

Traitor to Grace

Within the walls of the great Ley-Lhyandir, the realm of the Ink Elves is dictated by the beauty and the sex of an individual. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the Matron and her fine female entourage, nor the male foot soldiers and cannon fodder. The females of the spire dress to extenuate the fairness of their forms, the males forced to cover their bodies and faces in markingless armour. At a mere glance, it can be seen that the female Ink Elves have a much greater life than the males, holding infinitely more beauty and, therefore, worth. Why then, would an Ink Elf born into a female body seek something else?
Once known under the chain-name Ailavai, Luvon's mind was placed into a female body at birth, a divine mistake that he became all too aware of as he aged. Born into a well-off family meant that Luvon was expected to wear fine, figure-caressing silks, walk upon the Spirestone barefoot and parade himself in front of those of the lesser class, requirements that made him sick to his stomach.
At schooling age, Luvon attempted to push the renegade thoughts of ill-belonging from his mind by throwing himself into study. Though scholars tried to push him toward the fairer studies of magical power and tactical strategy, Luvon found himself feeling most alive, most real when clashing blades. Despite a small and slight form, Luvon meticulously studied all manner of stances and weapons, from rapiers to spears, pikes to maces. A vicious opposition in a duel, he channelled his inner hatred into his strikes, often able to break the form and even shields of those he stood against. Soon, his peers didn't dare duel with him, so his mother arranged for a faceless guard to become his new trainer. An action that would both doom Luvon's fate and divine his way forward.
For many months, the new trainer did not speak, and nor did Luvon. Quickly, a rivalry formed between the two, alongside a quiet solidarity. Luvon requested duels throughout the day and late into the night, whenever discontent struck into his heart. Over time, Luvon found himself able to say thank you, comment on the guard's form and go so far as to quip and taunt their trainer, and soon, out of turn, the trainer talked back. Luvon found a connection that went deeper than student and tutor, a longing to be as he was, and not chained to a body to which he did not belong.
But feelings are not to be spoken of in the higher classes, and though training between the two would continue, nothing was revealed of Luvon's deep and dark desires for many decades, until he reached the eve of this forty-first birthday. A twilight training session saw Luvon fail to place a strike against his trainer's guard and, rather than dodge away or raise a guard, he collapsed to the floor. Unsure what to do, the trainer stopped, dropped arms, and sat beside the mortally silent Luvon. Like a wellspring, Luvon's heart opened up a lifetime's supply of pain and suffering being prisoner of his skin. The two remained there for many hours, the trainer listening to Luvon until there was nothing more to say, then sitting in the calm silence of company. The trainer had an idea, albeit risky, and spoke it to Luvon.
The trainer spun tale of a land high above the Spire and well out of reach of the Matron and her ideals. A world full of strangely coloured people with no regard for the sex given at birth. A place where Luvon could be free to be himself. And a place with a means to quell the pain that he felt in his own form for so many years - a way to permanently transmute Luvon's body into that which belonged to him. Hope filled Luvon, terrifying yet exciting. An opportunity that could easily fail. But it was a chance, and a chance he must take to be himself. The two planned together how to break free from the Spire and travel to Layman's Belt to complete his transformation and live his new life as he deserved.
Of course, no tale of victory comes without tragedy. A female was not to leave the Spire without arrangements for protection and this was something Luvon was well aware of. Furthermore, Luvon's feelings, however real, were heresy in the eyes of the Ink Elves. This was not a matter that could simply be brought to his mother. So Luvon and his trainer took the only option they had, and attempted an escape. Under cover of night, the two snuck through the Spire in darkness, a local kinband of Orika as their target. Their hope was to secure safe passage for them both to Caleb's Rest where, in the safety of asylum, Luvon could complete his transition into a new life. Sadly for them both, Ink Elven guards are trained from birth, and such an expedition was always doomed to fail. In the final leg of the journey, as the two finally reached the great gates of Ley-Lhyandir, they were caught.
The details of his trainer's death are a mirage in Luvon's mind. As though looking through clouded glass, the picture is not clear, his mind unable to handle losing the only person he could call "friend". The only memory that managed to hold form, sturdy as the stone beneath his feet, was the name the trainer called out. "Luvon." the trainer had whispered, coughing blood as more dripped from around the arrow in his neck. "My name is Luvon. Carry it for me."
And so he did. Sprinting through the darkness, choking through tears, the newly-born Luvon made his way to the kinband, and by morning he found himself in a new world. By the next week, a new body. Male. As it always should have been. And a grave, with a dedication to Luvon. Luvon the trainer, the mentor, the friend.
Luvon's mother did not take the news well. Whilst untouchable by Ink Elven law whilst residing within Caleb's Rest, Luvon has been branded the first and only "Traitor to Grace" for forsaking his form of beauty. A title he will carry until his final sleep. A title he carries with honour.
Where he is now is mostly unknown to the general populace of Ley-Lyhandir. However, in certain circles of the Eligni in Caleb's Rest, there's talk of a new hero. Luvon's new goal blazes like a bonfire in those who seek freedom for the people shackled in the wrong body. A rumour has been heard within taverns and pubs, that a group is forming to help save the Ink Elves who need it. That a rebellion may be brewing. That change could soon blow on the wind and strike down the Spire.

Current Location

Caleb's Rest

Age

48

Birthplace

Ley-Lhyandir

Pronouns

He/Him

Sex

Male

Gender

Male

Presentation

Masculine

Eyes

Deep, bold blue

Hair

Buzzed short yellow-blond

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Gentle amber, covered in the markings of an Ink Elf

Height

5'5

Weight

53kg