Tanya Keenan
This is the backstory for a character I’m playing in Dungeons & Dragons. Despite what a lot of people might think, D&D is not just the domain of unsocialized geeks seeking escape from reality.
People who play D&D and other fantasy/scifi role playing games tend to be intelligent and highly imaginative. Unlike computer based role playing games, D&D started out, and continues to be played, as an in-person game using strategy, empathy, imagination, and many varieties of dice.
Many players, like myself, take a great deal of time to develop their characters (not unlike writers). Players who are writers often allow their characters to tell their backstory, and become scribes for these imaginal (not imaginary, look here for the distinction) lives.
Here is the backstory for a character I’m about to start playing. She is a 6’2” woman, half-dragon, and half-human.
Shezeereh, Dragonborn
It was said a storm raged when she was born, although born is perhaps not quite the most accurate term.
The storm lasted three days. At its onset, her mother, Elena, went into labor and quickly bore, to the confusion of the midwife…an egg. The egg was silver, with dark markings on it – jagged streaks like lightning bolts mingled with green clouds and red and blue swirls. The egg shell was soft and pliable at first, but hardened quickly outside Elena’s womb. (She vaguely remembered her mother’s presence, outside the barrier of shell, somewhat confused, slightly frightened, but always loving. She could feel her mother, even then.) The storm ended after three days, but the last hours were the fiercest. Lightning struck the gardens outside Elena’s window, setting shrubs alight, and the wind making the trees scrape against the windows. After several hours, the wind blew Elena’s window open, and lightning struck the bassinette that held the strangely colored egg of which Elena was so fond, and which had grown to three times its size in the three days since she’d bore it.
The egg cracked when the lightning struck it. Elena rose from her bed and stared down into the bassinette, her long red hair brushing the egg as she leaned down to inspect it. The shell cracked again, making Elena jump back a little. A tiny finger wiggled out of the crack, followed by three others, and then four more just two inches down the crack. The tiny fingers strained and pushed until a small silvery hand made its way out, and then an arm.
And thus, Shezeereh was born, finally, amidst howling winds, lightning, rain, and fire…and love. And then the storm dissipated as quickly as it formed.
The babe Shezeereh was different from the beginning. Silver-toned skin was offset by hair that was almost blue-black. Shezeereh’s green eyes shone like jewels, particularly when laughing, throwing toys joyously across the room a day after her … birth, and after 10 days, walking to bring it back. She was much stronger than the other children.
Yes, about the other children.
Elena lived in a tolerant village, in a mild country where people welcomed guests from all over. Travelers came to this land, knowing that they would find safe haven and hearty food, excellent wine and ale, and pleasant company. So, while Shezeereh was different from other children, they did not make her feel unwelcome. Those who just met her sometimes touched the silvery skin on her arms or gazed on her elegant but pointed face in wonder. But it was wonder, and not hostility, that greeted Shezeereh. This wonder eventually became easy friendship; Shezeereh was a happy child and shared all of her favorite toys and games with her companions. Although Shezeereh’s mother was a wealthy businesswoman, there was no disdain for those with fewer resources. Shezeereh often invited her friends to her home to eat and play, and it was on one of these occasions that she accidentally set the house on fire.
That’s when things began to get interesting.
Shezeereh had discovered fairly early that when she ate too much and belched, she belched sparks. Literally. Sparks flew from her mouth when she was but two years old, delighting her and her mother, and startling the cook (the nanny nearly fainted). Soon she began to control this effect, and could send a spark to her nanny’s bracelet that gave her a jolt (and often got her spanked), or make a key grow hot just by opening her mouth and exhaling. It had never been more than a little trick, until one day as an early adolescent, while entertaining a friend, Shezeereh got a bit carried away. The sparks danced along a metal railing all the way to the window, where it lit the draperies on fire.
The fire burned quickly and servants tried desperately to save Elena’s valuables. As they all gathered outside to form a chain from the well to the house, Shezeereh realized her mother was not there. Shezeereh had last seen her in the house, trying to gather everyone and looking for the cat. Without thinking, Shezeereh dashed into the burning house.
The rest was somewhat blurry, although she heard several versions of the story of that night. All who told the tale agreed that they saw Shezeereh emerge from the burning building, holding her mother, who held the cat, and protecting both from the flames that licked at her body. Shezeereh had walked out of those flames unharmed.
And naked.
The fire had consumed her clothing, but not her flesh. She’d emerged from a wall of flame, nude and glimmering like molten silver, beautiful and alien, electricity dancing in her eyes.
It was a few months after walking through fire that her mother decided it was time Shezeereh should know more. She began one night, over steaming mulled wine, sitting before a fire in a relative’s home (theirs was being rebuilt). Shezeereh listened attentively.
☼
“About 15 years ago I was traveling for my father’s business, meeting traders from all over the land…and beyond. I’d sailed West despite my father’s wishes, and traveled through many strange places. Near the end of my journey, I met your father.
“He was the ruler of a land near the sea, a dark and intriguing man, fierce and powerful, yet lonely. I found him completely compelling. I stayed there for a full lunar cycle, traveling through his land, and learning about his people. They were all very strange, with glittering, jewel-like eyes, and shiny, almost metallic skin. Your father apologized frequently for them, for they were a proud people and carefully guarded their privacy. We traveled under your father’s banner, so they left us alone, for the most part.
“By the end of my journey, we had become friends as well as traveling companions. He was kind and funny when he was not too proud. On the last night, he seduced me, and revealed to me his true form. His dark scales gleamed in the candlelight. I think he feared that I would run away, but he became only more beautiful to me.”
(Elena grew quiet and smiled wistfully into the fire. Shezeereh stared in awe at her mother, then cleared her throat.)
“That night, and the next morning, he begged me to stay with him. We had fallen in love. I could not leave my father’s business, however, or at least I didn’t think I could. I left that morning, on one of three ships that led back to this land. Your father was so very sad….” Elena’s eyes misted. “By the time I set foot upon the shores of my home, I knew I was pregnant.”
And then Elena proceeded to tell Shezeereh all that she knew about her people, the land, their culture, their gods, and even their food. She told her daughter all she knew about Shezeereh’s father. Shezeereh listened raptly.
After several days of telling stories to her daughter, Elena brought to Shezeereh an ornately decorated box. “It is from your father,” Elena said. “It was intended for me, but it didn’t seem quite right. Besides,” she laughed, “it’s far too large.”
Shezeereh opened the box gently. Inside was a necklace with a pendant. The pendant contained a dark jewel, with silver and red veins running through it. It was fascinating, and Shezeereh could feel a slight tingle when she touched it. Shezeereh excitedly put it on, and looked at herself in the mirror. The jewel gleamed at her breast and made her feel…wistful, somehow.
Her mother continued her stories, until she’d run out. Shezeereh noticed that her mother smiled a lot during those evenings, as she recalled her travels, and sometimes she seemed as if she wished for those times again. But mostly she noticed that her mother seemed lonely, and sad.
Within a couple of weeks, a plan began to grow in her mind.
After the fire, Shezeereh’s friends began to treat her with a little more distance and fear. With clothes on, her difference could be easily overlooked. But no one who saw her emerge from a wall of flame could forget the sight, nor could they forget that Shezeereh, for all her efforts to blend in, was very different from them.
One day, she walked through the village and saw a man, a stranger passing through town, becoming increasingly frustrated with his horse. Most people in her village did not treat their animals with anything but kindness, but this man yelled and waved at the horse to try to get it past a certain point in the road. Shezeereh could see a mirror in the shop window across the street, how it reflected light onto a spot near the horse, and knew that the horse was perceiving a real threat. The horse began to whinny and rear in its increasing panic, and the man became more violent in his increasing frustration. The man raised a hand to hit the horse….
And suddenly Shezeereh was striding toward them both. In her rage and desire to protect the horse, she lost all fear for her own safety. But before she could approach the man, she felt it.
It was a hardening of her mind, a focusing and crystallization. White light flooded her vision and her anger flowed down into her chest. Heat erupted from her sternum, throwing her chest out and snapping her head back.
With a great effort, Shezeereh brought her head back up, where she saw that a dazzling light was coming from the pendant that hung at her breast, and that the light shot out toward the man who had been hurting his horse. The light engulfed him and was hurting him. Something stirred inside Shezeereh, and in her rage, she only looked at the man, opened her mouth…
…and hissed!
It was not long after that incident that Shezeereh decided to enact her plan and leave her village. No one blamed her. Although she’d been raised with the children of her generation, she’d grown up faster than they, and they could not come to terms with the person Shezeereh was becoming. It was one thing to have her reptilian features set her apart, but her emerging power was far more alienating than anything else. She said good bye to a few close friends, and to the servants who had watched her grow.
At the harbor, she said farewell to her mother.
“I will find my father,” Shezeereh said. “I will bring him back.”
“Sweet girl, you don’t have to do that,” Elena said, touching her daughter’s face. “I made my choice. He would never come here. But you should go see him, and tell him who you are. He will want to meet you.”
Shezeereh watched her mother’s form diminish as distance separated them. The ship rocked gently out to see, and Shezeereh imagined her mother rocking her to sleep…as an egg, as a young girl. Tears formed in her eyes, a gift from her mother’s genetics, and spilled over her silver skin.
© Copyright 2010 Tanya Keenan