Post by WHISKEY on Aug 3, 2011 17:35:42 GMT -5
“You haven't seen a tree until you've seen its shadow from the sky.” ~ Amelia Earhart
The Guardians of the Sun were probably the most spiritual of the Guardians, both by Guardian and human standards. Not that the humans knew of them any more than they knew of any of the other Guardian’s, but there was something to be said for winged humans.
The Avisaille race was gentle by nature, strong willed and fair. They were, for the most part, honest beings who would sooner beat around the bush than tell a straight lie. They often had calm dispositions, and a pure way about them. Many might even say they were angelic, especially considering the wings on their backs. Of course, as with all species, there are the few that do not fit the mold, but the Avisaille had their own way of dealing with the unruly of their kind. They were a strict race and took their job of guarding the tree seriously as their nightly counterparts did; the Guardians of the Dusk.
The Avisaille did not age like most humans, or some of the other Guardians. They grew twice as slow as the normal human being, and because of this most young are homeschooled and birthed in their homes. For this reason, most Avisaille seem extremely intelligent for their age, but that is due largely to the fact that the average fifty year old looks to be no older than a twenty five year old. Unlike the other Guardians, the Avisaille are often encouraged to travel before they take ownership of their Guarding duties. Many leave at the age of 26 and return by 36, keen on the world they live in and ready to bring knowledge back to their people and whoever else cared to hear and learn it.
Coming through The Tree of Enlightenment was no easier for this race than any other, but they adjusted well considering the difference from their home land to their new one. Augustacia was a utopia compared to the world they currently lived in, but the days and nights were similar, so it was natural for them to be up in the day and sleep at night, for that was what their bodies were naturally designed to do. Scriptor Bay, however, was not the sort of land they were used to. Many Scandinavian countries had land closer resembling Augustacia, but the tree they protected was in Scriptor Bay, so that was where the race would remain. There was one place in the city, or rather directly outside of it, that resembled their home; Megsy Isle. Many Avisaille took to the Isle on a regular basis. In fact, at night, many would fly over the cool crisp ocean when the locals and tourists had long since left the beautiful scenery.
Though social by nature, the Avisaille rarely socialized outside of their own race due to the slow aging process. It was difficult to explain to someone why, after sixteen years you only aged eight, but it wasn’t extremely uncommon to have acquaintances. They were also nomadic for this reason, changing the places they lived every decade or so.
The most difficult part about being an Avisaille, though, was tucking their wings away from the public view. Many wore harnesses to keep their bulky wings folded small and tight to their bodies, and tight fitted clothing wasn’t something they could really pull off. Fortunately, the wings could fold small, but it took a harness to make them almost undetectable.
At fifteen most Avisaille learn to fly. For one week every winter the roads leading to Megsy Isle are shut down. The young are trained in their history in greater detail, and for the entire week they are allowed to have their harnesses removed. They sleep in tents, huddled tight together to keep warm against the cool air, and go through rigorous team building and self strengthening trials through the day. By the end of the week they are often mentally prepared for the task that had been honored to them, but it would be nearly two decades until they took up posts at the tree. The time leading up to their ten year leave would be filled with knowledge; learning anything and everything they could about the world they were sent to protect.
The Guardians of the Sun were probably the most spiritual of the Guardians, both by Guardian and human standards. Not that the humans knew of them any more than they knew of any of the other Guardian’s, but there was something to be said for winged humans.
The Avisaille race was gentle by nature, strong willed and fair. They were, for the most part, honest beings who would sooner beat around the bush than tell a straight lie. They often had calm dispositions, and a pure way about them. Many might even say they were angelic, especially considering the wings on their backs. Of course, as with all species, there are the few that do not fit the mold, but the Avisaille had their own way of dealing with the unruly of their kind. They were a strict race and took their job of guarding the tree seriously as their nightly counterparts did; the Guardians of the Dusk.
The Avisaille did not age like most humans, or some of the other Guardians. They grew twice as slow as the normal human being, and because of this most young are homeschooled and birthed in their homes. For this reason, most Avisaille seem extremely intelligent for their age, but that is due largely to the fact that the average fifty year old looks to be no older than a twenty five year old. Unlike the other Guardians, the Avisaille are often encouraged to travel before they take ownership of their Guarding duties. Many leave at the age of 26 and return by 36, keen on the world they live in and ready to bring knowledge back to their people and whoever else cared to hear and learn it.
Coming through The Tree of Enlightenment was no easier for this race than any other, but they adjusted well considering the difference from their home land to their new one. Augustacia was a utopia compared to the world they currently lived in, but the days and nights were similar, so it was natural for them to be up in the day and sleep at night, for that was what their bodies were naturally designed to do. Scriptor Bay, however, was not the sort of land they were used to. Many Scandinavian countries had land closer resembling Augustacia, but the tree they protected was in Scriptor Bay, so that was where the race would remain. There was one place in the city, or rather directly outside of it, that resembled their home; Megsy Isle. Many Avisaille took to the Isle on a regular basis. In fact, at night, many would fly over the cool crisp ocean when the locals and tourists had long since left the beautiful scenery.
Though social by nature, the Avisaille rarely socialized outside of their own race due to the slow aging process. It was difficult to explain to someone why, after sixteen years you only aged eight, but it wasn’t extremely uncommon to have acquaintances. They were also nomadic for this reason, changing the places they lived every decade or so.
The most difficult part about being an Avisaille, though, was tucking their wings away from the public view. Many wore harnesses to keep their bulky wings folded small and tight to their bodies, and tight fitted clothing wasn’t something they could really pull off. Fortunately, the wings could fold small, but it took a harness to make them almost undetectable.
At fifteen most Avisaille learn to fly. For one week every winter the roads leading to Megsy Isle are shut down. The young are trained in their history in greater detail, and for the entire week they are allowed to have their harnesses removed. They sleep in tents, huddled tight together to keep warm against the cool air, and go through rigorous team building and self strengthening trials through the day. By the end of the week they are often mentally prepared for the task that had been honored to them, but it would be nearly two decades until they took up posts at the tree. The time leading up to their ten year leave would be filled with knowledge; learning anything and everything they could about the world they were sent to protect.