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Serena Calderon, Discussion in 'Profiles' started by Lightascetic, Jul 12, 2013
post Sep 30 2013, 04:03 PM
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Skylessia Characters

QUOTE("Lightascetic @ post: 15337, member: 382")
Name: Serena Calderon

Gender: Female

Age: 25

Nationality: Ylisse

Allegiance: Ylisse

Height: 5’9

Weight: 132lbs

Class: Lord

Level: 10

Weapon Level: Staves ©


Combat Rod: (D) (Fighting Fit)
Serena’s primary weapon. Shorter than most staffs and forged from silver, she can wield it with one hand in order to parry some attacks and make an attack of her own if necessary. The spherical tip of the staff is set with an emerald, which releases a healing light when magic is channelled through it.

Wind Seal: © (Immunity, Undo)
A mahogany staff dyed green with intricate swirls carved into its body. Within dwells a peculiar aspect of wind; silence. The spell briefly stills any sound around the target, forcing them to suffer to the same fate as the wind. This spell can steal the voice of its target, preventing utterances of magic, or breathe loud gusts into the lungs of the target, returning the gift of speech to them. Serena can use the power stored in this staff to render attempts to silence her useless.

Renewing Breeze: © (Long Range)(Potency)
A Staff decorated by folded white wings that allows the caster to employ the latent winds around them, imbuing them with healing energy. Upon reaching its target, the winds will bind their target’s wounds with a light breeze.

Eagle’s Beacon: © (Long Range)
A staff used by the founding maidens of House Calderon, this fabled staff’s spell flies as fast as the winds. Whomever the staff is pointing is enveloped in a shining energy, protecting them from physical and magical harm. The caster will be put under increasing strain if the attacker’s strength is significantly higher than that of her own. Also useful to illuminate soldiers that need rescuing.


As a lady of the prestigious House Calderon, Serena’s appearance is always flawless. Even when not required to dress for formal occasions, her chestnut hair is perfectly straight, falling down her back and settling around her smooth shoulders with everlasting grace. Her deep, azure eyes are adept at catching attention from across the room, accompanied by elegant eye lashes. Above her subtle lips sits a thin, straight nose. If one was to happen upon Serena with a neutral expression, she would appear distantly cheerful. With a modest chest and gently curved hips to complete her figure, Serena is often showed off on her father’s arm at balls and conferences.

Serena fully endorses her house colours in her attire. When it pleases her father or other guests, she will don a green hair accessory; either a ribbon or a hairband. Her ceremonial dress also sports royal green embroidery along the hems. For day to day wear, Serena is usually found in a silver-thread tunic, the family emblem (a fully-fledged Eagle) proudly fitted on her left breast. The folds of the tunic conceal her chest, but hold the shape, showing nothing but the base of her neck. The sleeves stop at her elbows, becoming slightly draped. On her legs, Serena wears a sloped mini-skirt; silver in colour with green hems which stops just above her knees. Green leather boots cover her shins, leaving about six inches of leg on show.

Normally her hair is left to sway along her lower back, with a complimentary green-dyed feather woven into the locks near her right ear. During battle Serena will tie her hair, usually into a low ponytail, or high depending on the severity of the situation.


With a blend of selflessness that shines through her noble roots, Serena holds a strong sense of charity and goodwill. Although she is very conscious of tradition and protocol, she has no qualms with breaking rules in order to benefit those less fortunate than herself. Perhaps to the point of naivety, Serena does not judge her fellow man, while otherwise being very attentive in regards to her surroundings. In the face of danger she can become very stern, sometimes even stubborn. She is also fairly studious: unafraid of hard work, yet not infused by knowledge as much as devoted scholars.

Although trained to defend herself, Serena prefers to assist her comrades from the back lines, inspiring them to continue battling and renewing their courage. This aspect makes her particularly protective over those in her service. Above all, she often wants to be perceived as an equal.
She is not particularly good at dealing with male attention. This is one of the only moments when Serena will become shy, sometimes retreating to her court-taught formalities in order to ‘rationalise’ the situation.


Serena’s early life knew no hardships. She was born into a wealthy, well respected noble house. Any sensible desire she wanted fulfilled was seen to. However, even as a little girl who was very easily captivated by sweetness and shiny things, Serena was taught to be thankful for everything she received. She learned how share with her sister of two years younger quickly, even giving over her favourite toys in order to stop dear Phyllis from crying. From the age of 5, Serena had learned how to compose herself in public; walking daintily in a dress, holding her mother’s hand and keeping up with her parent’s stride. She learned when to smile, when to courtesy and to whom, even when to laugh. Even beneath these facades, she enjoyed portraying herself as a cheerful girl. It was a demeanour she would adopt automatically in new company throughout her adult life.

Until she was 7, she lived a completely sheltered existence. Her curious and inquisitive mind put an end to that earlier than her father would have liked. One evening, two of the female servants rushed Serena and Phyllis upstairs and into the playroom. The servants left after telling them to stay there until their father came to collect them. Making sure Phyllis was content with her dolls, Serena slid the door open and crept out onto the hallway landing. Peering through the banisters, she saw that the front door was wide open. On the grand maroon carpet at the entrance to their manor lay a man clutching his side. Serena blinked, noticing the blotches of dark red against the maroon. Maids ran around frantically while the head maid knelt by his side along with Serena’s father. The man’s moaning would haunt her dreams for days. Bundles of white cloth were pulled from his chest, dyed red. Serena sat, paralysed. When eventually the man was taken, hobbling, further into the manor, Serena fell back onto the floor. Her father must have heard, because he flew up the stairs, immediately cradling his daughter’s head, pressing his large hand against her ear as the wounded man screamed under the care of the maids downstairs. Not trusting the teary Serena to return to her still innocent sister, she was sent to the comfort of her mother.

After the exposure to the horrors of war, Serena became obsessed. The books on battle strategy and war tactics moved from the manor library to the newly acquired desk in Serena’s bedroom. Her mother had to prompt her to play with her sister; her dolls and a wealth of other toys left to gather dust while the pages of skirmishes, famous battles and logs from esteemed generals remained in constant use. When, on her twelfth birthday she asked for a sword, her father finally put his foot down. He had seen it coming. She cried on the eve of her birthday when she argued with her father; ‘I want to have the power to stop those kind of atrocities from reaching our home ever again!’ Her sincerity struck his heart with sorrow; she had never experienced it first-hand. Death was still a myth in his daughter’s head.

It wasn’t until Serena’s father was forced to rally his arms and join the home front that she learned. As soon as his horse had left, she ventured into town and purchased bulky commoner’s clothes and a large cap to hide her eyes and hair. She managed to locate a crude sword, which she made sure she could at least swing. Within two days, she was marching alongside fully grown men, her feminine features well concealed beneath steel and visor. Serena’s father had no idea that his fourteen year old daughter was marching a matter of feet away from him.

Hearing him roar as the enemy approached came as a shock to her; all traces of his gentle, caring demeanour had vanished. Her mind began to blur, battle strategies, sword swings, stances blotted out by surges of adrenaline, fear and bloody screams. When an axe-wielding soldier advanced on her, it was all Serena could do to draw her sword and point it at him. He easily knocked it aside, only slightly aware of the high gasp that escaped this soldier’s hidden face. He knocked her to the ground with the flat of his weapon, causing her helmet to tumble off, her long brown hair unfurling like a curtain swinging free of its rope. The soldier was stunned by Serena’s maturing beauty. She tried to crawl to her feet, only to be fiercely grabbed. Her aristocratic tongue only confirmed his fortune: he’d found the daughter of their enemy’s commander, Lord Calderon! Serena struggled and screamed, her girly shrieks ringing out over the grunts and growls as she was dragged into the enemy’s ranks. Then she heard the roar again. The soldier holding Serena, his arm tight around her neck, turned to see Lord Calderon, his sword glinting red. Serena felt the light pressure of sharp steel against her stomach. The panic clouded her senses, causing her to collapse.

Serena woke, swaddled in blankets and surrounded by folds of canvas, the only pain being an ache across her neck. Sitting up in her cot, her last moments of consciousness returned to her. As she scrambled to get out, the tent opened. Before her stood her father. Immediately she noticed his leg, his chest, his head, all covered in crimson stained bandages. A weary smile belied his anger at his daughter, but she knew it was there.

The battle had been won, and Lord Calderon returned home with Serena. With little Phyliss in the care of the maids, Serena spent several nights in heated discussion with her mother and father. Her wish to become schooled in the arts of war remained, despite her ordeal. Eventually, Serena was persuaded to adopt a different approach to her path in the direction of war. Begrudgingly, she enrolled in the tutor-age of one of Ylisse’s most revered court magicians. He was delighted to discover that Serena had a wealth of untapped magical potential. After teaching her to control and harness this energy, he compelled her away from tomes and towards the school of staves. Serena was extremely unhappy, but had found no way to disprove her new master thus far. He became increasingly impressed: her way with staff magic was as natural as a flowing river. Slowly, she became comfortable with the idea of becoming a Cleric, her books on war and strategy becoming replaced with those of a magical nature. Her maturity bloomed alongside this new-found gift. The power of preservation and protection of life was more valuable to Serena than being able to take it away. She swore by the shame of her father knowing her better than she knew herself, to always be true to herself, and never to succumb to selfish whims as long as she drew breath.

The years continued to pass, and Serena grew into a beautiful woman. Many sought her hand, but to her father’s dismay she accepted none of them. It even became rumour that her little sister’s lineage would be concrete before her own. Instead, Serena busied herself with her chosen craft. Her prowess with the staff became an invaluable tool to the standing armies of Ylisse. Along with her well-grounded knowledge of war, she even led a few battles, bolstering her soldier’s morale with masterful healing and unshakeable resolve. Serena wished to become a general, but her lineage, for once, limited her. Her hand remained unspoken for, and the Calderon heritage needed to be secured. More recently, Serena has been forced into more social duties, although her skills are still used and sought from time to time. Thing were due to change in accordance with her desires, but whether it was truly what she’d been wishing for remains to be seen.

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