[ExVenor]

username: Half Tree
kalon name: Alcina?
personality:
short story:

She is a witch, eyes are from using a strong and ancient moon magic that she wasn't powerful enough for

wip! <3

[MelMellyMel]

username: MelMellyMel
kalon name:
personality:
short story: Not sure about what I'm going to write specifically yet, but I know that what happened to their eyes is that they developed cataracts through aging, completely ridding them of their sight.

Gorgeous design, I'm in love! Wip. :")

[Drizzle]

username: Drizzle
kalon name: Demytria (greek; of the earth)
personality: Forest Goddess - Empath - Distant - Aloof - Fragile
short story:
- what happened to their eyes
- their relationship with the forest
- where they hide away

WIP. <3

[vympyre]

aahhh res with their eyes were stolen.. by a scientist ? idk
they hate science and modern humanity now

[root]

username: sundead
kalon name: chris
personality:
short story:

res!!
using the song icarus by bastille cause they remind me of it

[Kyar]

well hello there

[Rinovo]

mark!

[jules_]

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❴--The Mirror

----Across legend and culture the mirror is a door
----a door through which souls may pass

----capable of both trapping a soul in it's reflection
----and being a pathway from another world to ours

----It is believed when you gaze into your reflection
----the mirror shall show you your true self

----but beware, one may not always like what they see-- ❵

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Bran was a son of a lowly lord, born of delicate beauty contrasting pale and dark. For him, his path was to become knight. Scars cut into smooth skin, paid only in honor. He preformed his duty as it was assigned, slowly advancing through the ranks as the bitterness in his heart grew. His eyes often wandered, to the beautiful people and their beautiful things. The high nobles in the palace dripping in jewels and the finest clothes, their rich visitors and the wonderful gifts and wares brought to them. They had no scars, their skin was instead powdered and perfumed to perfection.

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it wasn't fair

Then there was the princess, of whom Bran was assigned specifically to guard with his life. She was a small, sickly child. Skin a dull gray and fine, golden hair that barely could cover her scalp. A hideous and weak child, yet one that rested in the lap of luxury. She had everything he had ever wanted, anything she could ever want. Someone who barely even lingered in this world was given gold, silk, velvet, jewels, marble, and porcelain when she was too young and too sick to even understand the blessings of her life. While the sites of the nobles often roused deep envy in his heart, this small creature dug into something deeper, something uglier. Her birth had brought her the best life possible, while his had given him nothing but a worthless existence where his greatest dreams were dangled right before his eyes. Why, he often wondered, why should he protect these people? He had once been as beautiful as them, he had been lively and charming, and yet he was resigned to beg at their feet for nothing but scraps.

So his eyes continued to wander, away from his young charge. He looked the other way when she haphazardly crawled around her room, ignored her cries if another noble gave him a task where he would perhaps be paid in a small golden trinket or fine treat. He could eek out some small tribute from the others in the palace, the princess could give him nothing but sorrow and so he averted his gaze. Honor meant nothing to him, he was simply a young knight assigned to drag out the child's doomed existence.

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A few years later, the girl aged now about eight, her royal family had traveled east to their summer palace. She was left to recover from a bought of illness. Bran was soon sent to bring her to them. He guided the young princess along the king's road, her rattling cough and wheezing breaths slowly driving him into an irritated rage. After days of this torment, he was fed up. Deviating from the road, he told the worried girl he was simply taking a shortcut through the forest that rose above them in a misty haze. It was often warned against traveling this way, the forest was said to lead to the faerie realms and travelers were often suspect to their tricks, getting lost to never be seen again. Bran figured if he never saw nor heard the princess again he'd be quite pleased.

Thoughts sprung from spontaneous emotions are oft regretted, and as the young knight realized he no longer heard the hacking and blubbering that irritated him so, panic filled his heart. The princess was no where to be seen, only the hoofprints of her horse in the damp ground leading into the heart of the forest. Following the path, the fog began to thicken. Bran was forced to stop as he reached the edge of a large body of water. Dismounting, he saw the only remaining path of the girl leading into the eerily still lake and his heart sank. Kneeling at the waters edge, for once not thinking about the state of his dress, he gazed into the water only to have his image reflected back at him.

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and in that moment, he truly saw himself

The mirror-like lake showed him the image of a man. Selfish, narcissistic. He swore the reflection spoke, smiling and mocking him for being so blinded that he would hate a child for his own downfalls and misfortunes. Terror ripped through his body as he felt a cold freeze creep over him just as the fog crept over the lake. A voice whispered in his ear, muttering of a price that needed to be paid. Staring wide-eyed at himself, Bran watched as his own arms arose from the water, reaching blindly out and caressing his face with skin as cold as the beautiful marble he so admired. Fingers wandered across his face, pressing into his eyes. The last thing he felt was a blooming pain across his face, and his world sank into black.

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The former knight known as Bran wandered the forest from that day on, hiding in the mist that now clouded his vision. He had been blinded by the vice in the world, and so in his greed and hatred he would never be allowed to see it once again. The legends about the forest had been true, and as he had knelt at the edge of the lake that he now knew lead into the realms of the seelie and unseelie faeries, they had exacted their retribution on him just as they had done to many humans across history.

The forest had become his home, and his voice would ring out until it was hoarse calling for the child he had lost in it's depths. He lived like this for years, wallowing in his remose and pain at what his actions had wreaked. One day, however, his desperate calls recieved a response. Small cries pierced the air, the mist carrying the sound and rebounding it throughout the forest. Following the sound, he finally stumbled upon it's source, what felt like a small child nestled in a ornately carved boat resting at the edge of the lake where he had lost everything what felt like a lifetime ago. As he picked them up, the whole world became clear to him again. It was a tiny girl, with delicate wings that felt like gossamer extending from her back.

A changeling, a faerie child that takes the place of a human one.

Purpose filled Bran's veins, he would not fail as he had failed in his past. He made it out of the forest, years of living among it having heightened his sense of touch and hearing. The child was silent, content in his hold. Once out, he took the first horse he could find, for once guilty about taking something he could not pay for. Riding day and night, stopping only when the horse could no longer go on, he finally reached the castle. There would be punishment, and he would take it all in penance, but deep in his heart he knew this child was meant to be here, meant to be a replacement of sort. A strong, healthy faerie child in place of a sickly human, a trade from the fair folk.

She was his second chance, the forest had taken everything from him to prepare him for what he must become. As she left his arms when the guards tried to take him away and reliquish her to the king and queen, she began to cry and scream. He would stay by her side until the end of his days, never distracted, never blinded by himself, until one day they would return to that forest together.

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Bran no longer had vision, yet he could see his path as clear as day.

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[gojo]

username:
kalon name:
personality:
short story:

[Miavinn]

pretty kal