__________________QUICK STATS
Name "Thirteen"
Age 13 days old
Gender Presumed male
Species Human...?
Ethnicity Serenian, presumably
Height 5'5"
Occupation "Helping others"
Residence Wanderer
__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF
Physical Description Thirteen is most easily identified by his very peculiar hair and iconic, yet unremarkable cloak. A young man bearing the look of one barely 2 decades old (if that), Thirteen has a boyish, child-like face— the sort associated with someone who has seemingly never laughed a hardy laugh, or raged beyond reason. No creases or blemishes dot his golden-brown skin and yet, despite this, he bears rather unusual marks under his eyes. Like eyeliner, or mascara, this unremovable shadow draws out the sparkling depths of his large, silver eyes. He often wears an inquisitive, if not withdrawn look on his face, as if vaguely pondering the meaning of his existence. It is very difficult to determine if Thirteen is very well built, or soft and slender, due to his constant-clothed state and ability to change said clothes with a flick of his wrists; as such, no one has actually seen his body... yet, anyway.
Thirteen's hair is unique, and that's putting it lightly; A lifeless bob-like cut that normally sits just a little above his shoulders, Thirteen's actual hair color is hard to determine. It appears black at a glance, but the more accurate description would be "midnight", or "starlight". Why? Because his hair, like magic, reflects the sunless sky itself; clear as any possible evening could be, staring at his hair is a gateway into staring into the starry sky itself, in all of its cosmic glory. Granted, it is rude to stare, so most folk don't pay enough attention to notice, and for those that do, Thirteen typically wears a brimmed, black, and almost Victorian-esque top hat to cover most of his hair. Stray strands can still provide a glimpse into the outer unknowns, if one was perceptive enough to see them.
Thirteen's attire can vary by the day, in part due to the fact that with a simple spell, he can change it on a whim; however, he does have a strong passion and penchant for the more "Victorian"-style. A proper black or white dress shirt, a matching pair of black trousers, and expertly polished black leather shoes being a common staple for him. There are, however, two constants about his appearance that never change, and the first is his cloak. A rather fashion-fitting Victorian styled thing, the black cloak is two-layered, and its tails and edges are adorned with silken-black embroidery— designs of strange symbols and disorienting swirls that seem to shift under certain shades of sunlight. It has no hood, interestingly enough, and its neat, ironed-down collar gives it— and him— a look that borders on nobility.
The second of two constants, by comparison, isn't something he wears at all. It's the bunnies. Yes, wherever Thirteen goes, 2 or 3 little black bunnies are sure to be somewhere close within the vicinity. The bunnies don't seem to "obey" Thirteen; He, in turn, typically pays them no mind, lest it's to pet one for being the adorable little things he are. It is said that where the bunnies go, miracles follow— yet the little creature themselves never really do anything... or so it seems, at least.
Personality Thirteen is a gloomy sort. Not pessimistic or even self-deprecating, simply low-energy and seemingly unenthusiastic about every encounter he has. That's just his exterior, though. Truthfully, Thirteen is driven by his desire to help others. From the day he was born, he only knew this desire— "Make the impossible possible, for the betterment of the unfortunate"; And so, Without considering the consequences of his actions, Thirteen typically uses his unique magic without a second thought, in order to help others. The problem this causes is that more often than not, Thirteen works in excesses; His actions going above, beyond, and further still to help people— sometimes unknowingly at the expense of others, and other times unknowingly making situations worse than he started.
Thirteen bears a deeply inquisitive mind for all things magical— and is, himself, seemingly completely unlearned of the practice despite his incredible aptitude for the art. A theorist at heart, if Thirteen comes to truly understand how a sort of magic works, he feels a strange sense of familiarity— as if it wasn't the first time he'd done so.
Interestingly, being the broken existence that he is, Thirteen's daily memories themselves are quite spotty and hard to hold onto. As a result, he struggles to remember names, and in worse cases, faces quite easily— at random, he can simply completely forget a person's existence in its entirety. And yet, feelings born of experience never truly disappear, so those whom he bonds deeply with, he has learned to trust those feelings, and blindly follow or believe in those who inspire such feelings.
Also, sweets. Thirteen LOVES sweets.
Magic/Abilities Thirteen possesses but a fraction of his true self's power, and yet that fraction alone is capable of great and evil deeds. Each fragment of the magister's soul was possessed of a single aspect of his former selves' true power, from strengthening spells, to clairvoyance, to destructive magics— in the case of Thirteen, he retains the concept of "Thaumaturgy"— the magister's power to make impossibilities, possible. This unique magic manifests itself near and around both Thirteen and the locations in which his powers have been/are being used in the form of adorable, yet ominous little black bunnies, with piercing red eyes. The bunnies are a strange sort— he come and go as he please, seemingly meaning no harm to anyone, and while he can be touched and heard, he have no shadow— and, to the observant eye, no actually physical form— existing more so as tangible masses of magic, than anything truly physical.
Relationships
History
Long ago, in an age likely forgotten, there lived a powerful mage. He was born without wealth or weal in an impoverished home, bestowed a name no greater or meaningful than any other, and was poised to lead of life of mediocrity— yet, he hungered. He sought knowledge, and in knowledge, power— power the likes of which to change his fate, and more. That hunger bid them to seek out a life of strife, adventure, conquest and acquisition— and through hardship, struggle, and tireless self-improvement, he gained the might to overcome his fortunes. Yet even this was not enough. Even still, he hungered.
The world was malleable in the hands of one who held power such as himself— yet he did not destroy without purpose, nor did he bring undue hardship onto any who didn't deserve it. He sought to change the world— recreate it, piece by piece, into a utopia in which no child need grow up like he did, desolate and in despair. In his ventures, he did a great many things; Some to the benefit of others, and others to further grow and consolidate his considerable magic. Before long, his prowess was recognizable as a threat to even the greatest of cities, states and kingdoms. His goals, in his mind, held positive intent, but his actions uprooted the foundations of cities, kingdoms— threatening all of Le'Raana.
Eventually, a collective of great wizards and priests, blessed by the gods, assembled, and together, he stood against the mage— and after a great and terrible contest, he used all that he had within them to strike the magister down, defeating and sundering his very soul. Shattered into fragments of the magister he once was, the alliance sealed away the aspects of the mage into 13 places of power— key locations across the lands of Le'Raana— and sentenced the consciousness of the magister to eternal slumber, never to be reawoken so long as the shards of his soul remained fragmented. And thus did the threat of the ancient magus come to an end, and the lands knew a semblance of peace once more... until recently, at least.
No one knows why— perhaps with time immemorial coming and going, the imprisoning wards weakened— perhaps some vile force or foolish adventurers stumbled upon something he shouldn't have. Whatever the case, barely a fortnight past, a disturbance in the leylines' magic occurred; one strong enough, and near enough, to cause one of the wards containing a fragment of the magister's power to come undone. And from that ward— a large, hollow tree within the depths of the Niahi forest— came forth a being of considerable magical power... and considerably lacking in both knowledge and purpose. It knew only a few things, almost instinctively— That it was the 13th of its kind, and that eventually, the others (whatever he was... whatever IT was) would also awaken soon enough. And with that revelation in mind, it wandered— away from its prison, and towards civilization... for some reason. It was fairly sure it wanted something to do with helping others...
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