Mithyava

Backstory
Mithyava sought refuge from the cult he was born into by becoming a citizen of Skjoldrbrodir. He fled from his home archipelago of Tnr'Mava at the age of 14, in a rickety boat. A mythical fox, the opposing creature of the evil beast worshipped by the people Tnr'Mava. The remnants of his past still taunt him today, scarring him, however he has turned that into a Fylgja of protection and prosperity (the fox mask). The Fylgja took the form of the fox which guided young Yava in his seafaring flee.

(Rathnir)

Living in Ukostol Mithyava is writing The Path of The Fox, a diary of his life. He knows there is much to do in this stormy, burdened land and though he is not a fighter, he will do all in his power to work for his nation.

Character
He is 6 feet tall, and has slight pointed ears, almost like his Fylgja, Ulvia (a fox). He is cross race, with elements of Valdic (his body ever so slightly shifts to fit those he is connected with or around. He wears mostly blueish purple clothes, with accents of red, symbolising the blood and destruction he fled from, but also the blood magic he has with Ulvia. His eyes are blue, like the diamonds of the deep earth. He has a wisp of white hair on the left side of his head, opposing the fox mask. His spirit is tied to both his Fylgja and the moon, both things guided him through the rough, unforgiving seas, to Ustokol.

Fox Mask
When Mithyava wears the fox mask he can see through and control the body of Ulvia. It combines their spirits so Mithyava can use a smaller form to search buildings and explore without the need for his own body. But more than that it signifies his deep connection to Ulvia, one that is undying with the passing of tides. However this comes with great risk, for if either of them become gravely injured, or even die, they both will.

The Path of the Fox

 * Diary entry 1:
 * I sit on the portside of the city, Ukostol. Winds torment the beaten sides of ships, drifting and dragging. My life has lead to this point. A nation of which I have settled in, a home far from the evil islands that bore my birth. The clouds froth greys, determined to call out. They echo the sunken greys of the deep earth like the cities of old. My Fylgja, (spirit/helper) Ulvia, has left for now, seeking the next calls of the wind. Here in this place I know I need to build. I need to pour every ounce of blood I have to make my name heard. I will expand this great city of which has given me such fortunes.  I am no one, but I will follow the path till the path runs out and then I will keep running tenfold, sprinting. I will NEVER stop. Never slow. I will not let the evil that birth be contain my path to the light. Sjáumst, Mithyava




 * Diary entry 2:
 * Willow tree.png willow whispers. It's voice is sooth and seeping through my home. It's roots reach deep beneath the surface, a web of lines and arrows that seem endless. It talks to me, non-decirpherable in its language it sings a gentle song. Every evening as the sun wallows me in its conflagration of orange hues, I sit on the windowsill and listen. The Willow's voice seeps into my being, and the voice of Rathnir can be heard beneath its sunken roots. Ulvia has left for a week now, and she has found the roots across continents from here. I shall keep this news to myself, because if anyone knows I fear they my try to hurt the tree. I think the tree plays a key part in binding Rathnir and it's peoples together. Containing this tapestry of beauty and culture, and as I have hear, war. Keep our secret safe, journal. Sjáumst, Mithyava