Irenia’s past remains almost a complete mystery, even to herself.
Her parents, members of the noble family of Tsepesh, exscaping persecution within the country that believed they could happily live from the many hideous stories that surrounded their ancestry, founded a happy, but short life together. They were, however, quickly followed within a year’s time by the demons that wished their destruction. Having just given birth to a fair child, they were most worried about her safety over their own, and, thus, left her in the care of a family that they believed would take great care of her.
The child, delivered into what they believed was safety of a happy home, grew up with no knowledge of where she came from, or what she was. But this happy home was less than what could ever be “happy” for a child. Abuse was ramped from the father, more so towards his sons than his adoptive daughter, who, though he often would beat her within an inch of her life, took great care never to leave marks or signs upon her body, hoping to sell her, in marriage or otherwise, into a wealthy home, and thus make as much of a fortune off her as he could. She became most dear to one brother, the elder of the two, and he took great pains, though often futile, to protect her from their father. His care was so great that she grew to love him very dearly in the few years that they were truly together, and cried pitifully when they were finally separated. But separated, and thus brought about to her destiny, was foretold centuries before within her true families stories.
A retinue of wanderers from a wealthy castle happened upon this lonesome establishment, and a great man took immediately into a love for this “poor child,” as the mother had most recently been lost to the (secreted) rage of the father’s abuse. She was sold, with only the father and the man’s knowing, to him, and spirited away on a “short trip” almost immediately. This man raised her within the wealth of the grade castle to which he carried the title of the Kings Chatelaine, given free reign over everything, and loved greatly by anyone she met, with her natural ringlets of beautiful silky hair, and features that could only, as was repeated among the people many a time, have been carved by God’s own hand into perfection. Within the wealth of the kingdom did she receive a grand education all her natural life to rival even the most nobly bred of men. Though she reached the age of consent to marriage, she was never forced into a decision, and was able to forestall it, as she wished never to be forced into it, but wanted to have the choice of who she should marry herself, her dreams filled with a grand loving face she could hardly remember as her dear older brother.
One day a retinue was established to venture to a neighboring kingdom to seek peace and establish a trade with. She begged to be able to go along on this journey, pleading before the King himself to be allowed to go. Seeing that there was no way to say “no” to such a sweet woman as her, and knowing that there was very little danger (as this journey was but to a very small kingdom that had never posed a threat to anyone before, and was being made simply for a show of face towards them), he allowed her to go, representing the nobility herself for him. The journey took within misshape from the castle, but late upon the third day, nearly to the castle itself, the group was attacked by a roguish band of thieves, who slaughtered the unsuspecting party quickly, taking all that was of any importance, and a few things that weren’t, raped her, and left her for dead with the bodies of the few guards who had accompanied her thus far. Summoning up all the strength she had, he managed to stumble and crawl a few hundred yards before she finally collapsed into a fainted heap, barely clinging onto life itself as darkness finally fell around her.
Through the night ventured a Great Spirit, wrathful of her beauty and hateful against all mankinds’ stark combination of both flesh and spirit in one. Seeing her life ebbing upon its last, and her own spirit struggling to release itself from its dying mass, it plunged down between her wounds, locking itself into her blood, and tied to her own spirit, forcing and drawing her back into her mortal frame.
When she awoke, she was not sure where she was, or what had become of her. Her body felt hole, within pain from what she had suffered, and stronger, which greatly surprised her, again because of what had happened to her. She managed from the ground within any problems, and looked about at the blood-stained gown that hung almost n shreds from her body, strongly started that, though there was much blood and many signs in her dress of where they had stabbed her, there were not cuts upon her body to be found, and no pain within any muscle or on the surface that she could find. Drawing deftly back towards where her party had been slain, she suddenly realized the feeling of a new strength within her, the soundlessness of her own step, with fact that her body felt not only weightless and stronger, but, upon studying her hands closer, that it appeared as pale as a corpse from which the blood had drained. Searching around, she found nothing of importance but a small wooden-handled dagger, dropped in a scuffle by one of the rogues who attacked them. Taking this up, she thought to test it against her flesh, drawing it across, though not deeply, her fore arm, she watched as, almost immediately, the wound began to seal itself, and within a few minutes time to complete disappear.
Looking about herself into the dark, she saw things that startled her: the soft twisting of the leaves in the breeze, small animals scampering along the branches and running, at places, between one place of hiding and another, which she knew she should not be able to readily see within any sources of light (this being a cloudy night, and one in particular which was without a moon besides). The combination of all these things, along with a slowing growing hunger for the blood of a mortal to pass her lips, began slowly to work upon her mind, to twist her from the mostly care-free woman she was into the demon she gradually became.
Many years later did she meet again with her “brother,” and then did that meeting uncover about her past. He had changed for the worst, driven completely mad by his discovery of her loss (when their father sold her away without his knowledge). Along with finally being told that he was part Dark Elf by his father, the severe beatings he continued to receive, and the subtle training he was always given, turned him into a ruthless individual, driving him almost completely out of his mind.
Not long after their reunion (where he tried, though in vain, to kill her without any true realization of what he attempted to accomplish) she was greeted by the grand matriarch of her true family, the Tsepesh, and welcomed into their household, told about her true roots, that she was born of what was believed the last roots of the truly mortal of her family. Though she did not exist long with them, she ventured back many times to their company, where she was always welcome, always understood, though every meeting drove her further and further from what she struggled to forever hold her: Her mortalness.

What is Now: