Violeta Orsina was a mere child of seven when she first learned of her past. Her father, Maxorin, was an Aestivan spy who made frequent trips to the surrounding nations to gather information for the Aestivan Army. On a trip to Iridine, he met a young Iridinian woman by the name of Talorina. Although Talorina was a hard-working woman, somehow fate led her to fall into his arms on that nightly encounter. However, when the sun rose the next day, she awoke to an empty bed. Talorina furrowed her brow, but continued to live her life as best as she could, thinking often of Maxorin and cursing her own weakness. A few months later, she bumped into him in the Gaeldine Forum. Her cooly reguarded her, with an arrogant sneer. Distraught and poor, she blurted out to him in a frenzy of words that she was pregnant and broke down in tears before his feet. Quite a few people stopped and stared at the scene as they walked by. Maxorin scowled darkly, aggravated at the sudden attention. He asked her in an unreadable voice when the child was due. She replied softly through mumbled words and trembling lips. He gave her a quick nod, and then with no hesitation vanished back into the crowd from where he had come, leaving her lying in a crying ball upon the streets.
Months later, Maxorin went again to the city of Iridine. He approached Talorina in a narrow alley and requested to see the child. As her eyes filled with awe and tears, she hastily took him to her small shack, where she gestured at the two sleeping twins, wrapped in blankets upon the straw mattress. He blinked in suprise for a moment, before taking the two children into his arms, in almost a loving hold. She flashed him a warm smile, her lips quivering as she thought to herself that perhaps now her daily prayers were to be answered and that she would have some way to care for her children properly. As constant thoughts of optimism danced through her mind, he quickly and cooly stated to her, 'this is the best thing.' and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. He quickly walked away from her home, leaving her devastated and in tears, her hysterical pleas shouting and echoing in the alleys behind him. Maxorin walked on without a glance back, feeling no sympathy at all for the woman.
Maxorin returned to Aestiva with the children. He began caring for them as a guardian would, feeding them and keeping them clothed. As soon as the children could walk, he fashioned them crude spears and would make them train with it daily. He emphasized the importance and necessity of obediance and loyalty, accepting no form of disrespect in his household. As time went on, he had taken quite a liking to the children, loving and caring for them as best his heart could. A nosy neighbor noticed his actions and befriended him. Learning of his escapade with this woman, she took pity on the children but felt that it was her duty to report him. His commanding officer, upset and disturbed, called Maxorin before him and spoke briskly to him that this was unacceptable and that due to the excursion with this woman, his honor and loyalty were doubted. To gain back the trust and respect of his peers and superiors, he was to end the lives of his children, as they were gained through time which was not his own and unnecessary, inappropriate actions. The children had been born in Iridine, taking in the children of a nation Aestiva was at war with was unheard of. That evening, Maxorin walked home the long way through the back alleys of Aestiva. He knew that his hopes of the children joining the army as himself were useless. Already they had received stares when they left the house, their mixed blood apparent by their lighter skin and eyes.
Maxorin waiting until the children were both asleep in the bedroom, before he slowly opened the door, and sat on the edge of the bed. He gazed at their innocent faces and watched all his hopes slowly fading away. As his last kind gesture, he spoke slowly in Aestivan to their sleeping ears the truth about where they had come from and the lives that were led up to this day. His face harded into his usual cold demeanor and he spoke coldly as he had with their mother, 'this is the best thing.'
Violeta was a light sleeper and a fast learner. She had learned early in life to sleep with her one-eye open from the constant lessons of her father. She laid silent and still as her father spoke of her past. She was seven years old, and had never heard of such stories. She was not ignorant though, and was well aware of the looks she would get when she ran errands and such. Lost deep in her thoughts as the story continued, she was violently snapped awake as she watched her father, expertly kill her brother without a second of hesitation. It happened so quickly, she gasped and jolted upright, her brother's blood across her clothes. Maxorin glanced quickly at her, suprised and shocked by her gasp, and rushed towards her. She jumped out of bed, crying and shrieking loudly. He slashed at her arm, the blow leaving a vivid crimson line in it's wake. If the pain was felt, Violeta made no visible response, her eyes clouded by a mix of panic, confusion and deep rage. She ran quickly from the house, the air painfully stinging her face and sending chills up from her barefoot feet across the cold ground. The violent image of her brother's murdered was repeated over in her head, it was a deep shock to her heart that she knew would never be forgotten. Lost and afraid, she ran as best she could to the northwest in the direction of Iridine. She couldn't say what she was looking for, but felt that she had no where left to run. She arrived at a cobbled road and collapsed upon the stones, her clothing diry and torn and her feet bleeding and scraped from the hard terrain. Tears streamed down her face, but she was too weak from hunger and wounds to stand, and her heart felt as if it had been torn from her body. She knew that to search for her mother was hopeless, she only knew her name and was unfamiliar to Iridine and it's streets. She closed her eyes, thoughts racing faster through her mind than she could comprehend before she passed out in the piercing wind and rain.
A kind hearted soldier, Rydaris, happened along the road, and his eyes fell with a concerned gaze at the small, battered child that lay at his feet. Feeling warmth in his heart, he gently picked her up and carried her to his humble abode in the other side of the city. He placed her body near the fire and cleansed her wounds, cleaning the dirt from her body. He wrapped her in blankets and placed her on his bed, covering her up adequately. He made a light meal and a glass of milk for her awake, concerned at her skinny appearance and how pale her face was. He patiently sat beside the bed throughout the remainder of the night. Violeta awoke groggily in a state of confusion. She looked around, apparently frightened and concerned, glancing around at her surroundings in quick, jolted movements. When her eyes fell upon the soldier, her eyes widened and she curled up into a fetal position in the corner. Rydaris smiled warmly at her, speaking soothing words in an attempt to calm her down. She observed him careful, her eyes wild. She noticed the bags under his eyes, and slowly realized that he had lost much sleep over the night. She spoke rapidly in Aestivan, 'Where am I? Who are you?' before her voice trailed off softly. She couldn't understand a word from his lips, and it showed visibly upon her face. From experience, Rydaris knew the foreign tongue to be Aestivan, but did not know the language fluently. He explained as best he could in simple Aestivan words what had occured during the night. She nodded slowly, putting his broken words together in understanding. Rydaris welcomed her to stay with him until she was well enough to continue on her own. Knowing that she had no where to go, Violeta agreed with a silent nod. She helped him tend his home from that day forth. He was suprised by all she could do at the tender age of seven, but did not question her actions. The two of them got along well, he accepted her with open arms and she thought of him as a father, although nightly she would lament over the loss of her brother. In her free time, she would train in the art of the spear as she had done when she was younger. As she grew up, her eyes began to glow with a friendlier light, but she continued to hold obedience and loyalty in high reguard.
Nightly, Rydaris would teach her slowly the common language and bits of Iridinian. He taught her to read and write well, educating her mind with endless teachings. She spoke the common language with somewhat of a foreign accent, and couldn't speak a word of Iridinian, but understood enough to get by.
At the age of fifteen, the soldier did not return at the time in which he normally arrived. Violeta was patient at first, but as time went on, she paced the house, concerned about his whereabouts and welfare. Around midnight, Rydaris stumbled into the home and collapsed upon the floor from fatigue. She gasped in disbelief and rushed over to his side, rolling him over onto his back and resting him in her arms. She noticed immediately with her keen eyes that blood trickled freely from a poorly put on bandage. She was not trained in healing in the least, and fruitlessly attempted to mimic the actions that she had watched him perform. She tenderly gazed at him as she fumbled with the bandages attempting to stop the bleeding. He smiled faintly at her, his eyes smiling upon her face, before he shut them forever. Violeta sobbed tears that night of inner pain and confusion that evening, looking back upon her life as moments flashed through her head.
The following morning, Violeta requested to address the SubAltern for Rydaris' Legion squad. She reported with all observations the events and of the recent death of a soldier. Feeling alone, she took her few belongings and left the Rydaris' home. She rented a small shack by the docks, training daily with strict determination to follow what she believed was her true destiny: to be a soldier.
Violeta Orsina was kind to those in need, the warmth she felt for Rydaris' generosity and gratefulness for her life was expressed whenever she could in her actions towards others. She was loyal to those who truly gained her trust, but was wary of many people whom she met.
She felt a deep bitterness and rage towards the Aestivan soldiers, and it angered her greatly when she learned of Aestivan or Cineran raids upon Monlon or the surrounding areas. However, she could control her emotions well, and like her father hide her pain if she felt that it would be a weakness.