Embershield - An Introduction

 A shadow. That is what she was. What she believed herself to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

 A shadow that served the Light, and carried out its punishment. She was a testament to the very crime of sin. She practically grew up amidst it, was nourished by it in darkness until the saving grace of the Holy Light could enshroud and redeem her.

 Embershield. A surname cursed and sullied by its bearers. A name that only one remaining soul held today. A name that was not befit of a Paladin, yet was carried by one with pride. Though it was a name that held many secrets, terrible and brooding, tainted with unknown horrors of the past, it had begun its ascension into something that could bring hope and peace, not pain and hatred. Something that could heal, and not rend asunder.

 Daethiel Embershield was the physical embodiment of the surname. Strong, in both physical and emotional sense, faithful and devoted to her cause, yet a reflection of her dark past, battling toward the light through a tunnel of nightmarish memories that constantly controlled her life. She had nothing, but constantly sought for something to fill the void in her heart, because even the Light’s embrace was not enough. She was neglected as a sapling, but that only led to her growing into an oak of iron, standing a mighty bulwark over all that is wicked.

 An Angel of Demise, she was often called. With a metal halo above her head and dark, imbued layers of plate covering her scarred body. Silver hair framed a sharp-featured face, with a gaze of unwavering will unlike any other. The faintest, shimmering outline of what appeared to be soft-feathered, flaming wings could be seen arcing from behind her back. Nimble fingers curled around a colossal blade, forged of the most resilient of metals. It flamed with Holy energy, the white-hot runes pulsating upon its worn surface. She held a heavy aura of sentient power, yet it bore no malevolence.  

 She was the Aegis of Dawn. A Holy protector of the innocent, fighting so they could see yet another day bloom into an early blossom of hope and beauty of life. So they could live with not fear but faith for a better future. She had no one, yet kept watch over countless souls. That was the one thing that had held her here, alive and breathing. The struggle between good and evil, life and death, hope and despair, love and hatred.

 The struggle to understand herself.