Approved by Con ~

Name: Vanavia
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Rank: Candidate
Appearance: Standing at 5’8’’, Vanavia is too broad to be called thin, but not large enough to be called overweight. She sits at the heavier end of average. Her father’s smith build intruding on the delicate build that her mother would have chosen had it been up to her. Despite this Vanavia always carries herself with dignity and elegance, as she was taught to. Head up, small steps, back straight. Turns of training in how to stand and walk have given the young teen excellent posture, making sure that her full height is realised at all times. Her clothes too are always proper, naturally, with Vanavia not having been seen in practical clothes that anyone can remember. It is a question of how much time it takes each morning to craft this girl into what she is demanded to look like before she is allowed to be seen by others. The combination of hair, clothes and cleanliness almost definitely taking over an hour to reach the standard that is expected.

When it comes to the more personal side of Vanavia’s appearance, and not the part that is forced into social norms, the girl can be regarded as rather pretty by those that choose to. A heart shaped face, framed by dark copper ringlets. Of course when she is out her hair is firmly secured in the appropriate fashion for an unwed girl. Her eyes are downturned, the colour a cold, pale, mix of greys and blues too subdued to be piercing, with delicate yet dark eyebrows above. Her nose is small and straight, if slightly upturned. On the back of her left hand there is a long scare from the knuckle of her index finger to the left side of her wrist. The small imperfection bothers the teenager and she often will hide it by holding her hands in certain ways.

Personality: The first thing anyone will notice about Vanavia is just how proper she is. Mostly because it runs up and punches them in the face before they have a chance to register anything else. The way she speaks, stands, moves and even her expressions have been carefully trained to show a very precise image. There is next to never a polite smile not on this young woman’s face. Any ‘negative’ emotions must be concealed until a more appropriate time. It is fine to feel sad or angry, but you must restrain yourself until you are out of the public eye to express yourself. This also goes for more positive emotions. A smile is acceptable, shrieking like a mad woman and bouncing around is most definitely not. Vanavia strives to always appear calm, collected and in control of her emotions and she’s managed rather well up until now. However, never being made to leave her comfort zone and the shelter of her mother’s shadow probably plays a very large role in that.

Although the teen would like to think she wasn’t naïve, she can be surprisingly ignorant of other people’s situations. She doesn’t mean to be, but sometimes she has trouble understanding what it is they mean when it is something outside her experiences. Her life has always been sheltered and the idea that there are people out there that are so poor they can’t even better their situation by studying confuses her. Shouldn’t crafts be open to people regardless of their background? Though this is a belief she feels, Vanavia doesn’t see the irony in saying that while still believing women shouldn’t study crafts. This young woman’s curious mind is in some serious need of prying open and having some fresh ideas stuff in among all the old traditions she has been fed on until now. Despite her ignorance, which can sometimes lead to people seeing her as a snob, Vanavia is a well-meaning girl. She doesn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings and she really would like to be their friend

Though friendly, Vanavia was never really allowed to socialise with people outside of her immediate social group for any length of time. So her persona stays in place even with those she would call her friends, because they all hold it to. She was always directed away from socialising with the more uncouth masses, with no reason other than it just wasn’t proper for her to do so. Still she does enjoy conversing with others and hopefully would manage to open up if she acquired some friends that weren’t all trained to act the way she had been. That’s not to say that everything Vanavia was taught needs to be broken out, a strong sense of duty and loyalty was also instilled in the girl. You never betray your allies, be they family or friend, and you never sacrifice your honour. No matter the cost, there is nothing worse than an oath breaker. The girl has a very moralistic view of life, with right being clearly right and wrong being clearly wrong. Although this might not be entirely accurate, it does lead to a very determined and loyal young woman.

There is a bright mind nestled in amongst the manners and etiquette, though perhaps not the kind that can throw out a witty one liner whenever the time suits or the kind to lay elaborate plans, it is a sharp mind all the same. Nurtured by the many books that Vanavia has been given over the turns her curiosity has blossomed, hidden in her room among her books, maps, scrolls and her trinkets. In another world the girl could have grown to be an explorer; travelling out into the world and uncovering its mysteries. From her room the world has always seemed so big. The wonder she would find in the differences that something could have from something that at first seemed so similar. Like how certain animals and plants could thrive in one part of the continent, but fail in another. The dramatic difference between the mountains in the north and the deserts in the south. What caused these changes? She would never be able to find out herself, but thankfully there were people out there that were. People willing to write down what they saw and felt, the things they learned, so that people like her could pour over them and dream.

History: In the second month of the one hundred and eighty seventh turn of the fifth interval was born the eagerly awaited daughter of Mastersmith Anirian and his wife Vivenni. After several failed pregnancies and more than one sickly newborn, the couple were hopeful for an easy birth and a healthy baby. Thankfully the pair were gifted with both and welcomed into the world a healthy baby girl. As a child Vanavia wanted for nothing. She remained the only child of her parents and was doted on accordingly. Her mother and father viewed strongly that it was the man’s job to pay for his family and as such Vanavia didn’t see much of her father during the day and was left to the teaching of her mother.

Under Vivenni’s careful hand the child was moulded into an excellent young lady. Her manners were flawless, her elocution immaculate. She didn’t need a craft; Vanavia’s only concern should be that she was always presented as a proper, dignified and elegant woman. Her childhood was kept apart from her father’s work as a sword smith; the forge was no place for a child. Especially not a girl child. This was firmly hammered home on one instance where a seven turn old Vanavia gave her mother the slip and made her way to the forge to visit her father. Wandering inside the child managed to get her hands on a dagger and cut herself when someone caught her admiring the pretty blade. Fleeing the one who discovered her, the girl nearly managed to run right into a fire. It was a few moments later when her father discovered her, huddled in a corner, blood on her hands and crying. The girl was swiftly picked up and carried out of the forge by her father. It was only later than she was given the talking to of a lifetime about how dangerous what she had done was and that she should stay with her mother and practice her lessons.

Vanavia never rebelled against her parents’ expectations of her. She loved them dearly and any time that even a hint of teenage rebellion reared its head something pretty or entertaining was placed in the girl’s hands before it had any chance to really manifest. Be it a new book, a new song wherry or something else to distract the girl. As Vanavia grew older she began to recognise this pattern, but excused it as her parents just trying to save her from being upset. It couldn’t be anything other than that. Besides it fuelled her curiosity. Though she had been turned against the desire to join a craft from a young age the young woman had a strange love of the natural world. The subtle differences that could be seen in things depending on where they originated, the dramatic differences in the landscapes of the north and those of the south of the continent. Even though she knew she could never see those things with her own eyes the pretty things she was given could let her marvel at them from the safety of her room. When she wasn’t being taught how to act correctly, sing, play the lyre, any other number of desirable wife traits or shadowing her mother’s steps.

Along with the traditional mentality that crafts were not places for women, came a fierce loyalty for dragonkind and those that were bound to them. From a young age Vanavia was taught the names of the Weyrs’ leaders as well as prominent riders. How to tell different rider knots and that it was always the duty of the holders to provide for the Weyr. The Weyr protected them and they must be honoured, even when it was a difficulty to do so. The tales of heroic dragonriders took root in Vanavia and soon became some of her favourites. The tales of daring riders saving distressed holder daughters from all kinds of peril. Even if they weren’t the most realistic, she still found them amusing.

It was on Vanavia’s sixteen nameday however that she was gifted with a very special present. A small firelizard egg. It didn’t matter to Vanavia that it was small though, it was the most wonderful thing she could ever have hoped to be given. She had only seen firelizards a handful to times and never close enough to touch them, yet here one was nested in an egg that she could hold whenever she wanted. Vanavia was on best behaviour from then on, wanting to prove without a doubt that she had earned the little creature. It was a scant sevenday later that the egg hatched, though it had felt like an eternity to the teenager hovering about the pot, into the most beautiful thing the girl had ever seen. A baby blue tumbled out of the egg with a hungry creel. Feeding the blue successfully bonded him to Vanavia and he has followed her everywhere since. Vanavia trying very hard to make the playful blue behave when they are out so that he fits with the image her mother so carefully crafted. Blue Smith however has other plans.