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BIO

The day Collette was born, was a rainy day. The young girl always knew that because her mother would always repeat it. Rain, she would quote that rain only helped common people, that rain wasn't for someone of their stature. Collect knew from a young age that the standard for her being was higher than everyone else's for her. She was a priest's daughter, in a family with a member of the clergy. She was supposed to be proper, obedient, and pure. She grew to understand that being quiet was better, but a part of her was too loud to be ignored. Her family would speak about her like she was possessed, strange and demonic. They have tried so many memes to fix her, ones that left bruises and whelps. So she learned that the special moments she had, where animals seemed to be especially curious of her, where she seemed to be doing things that she saw no one else being able to do, were her secret moments.And so when she went out, when her mother was busy and her father was away, she was able to practice those special things to make them less surprising and more expected. When 16 winter cycles had passed since her birth, she stumbled upon a small house, practically a shack, in the woods. Inside was nothing mostly, no food or blankets or anything of value, but she could feel that there was something important here. Before she left, she was holding a book.That book would help her learn twice as much, twice as fast as anything she could do on her own. She learned many things, all set spells and runes and potions all written in fancy lettering on an old parchment. With more knowledge came this pool to continue and continue and continue. All of the secret castings and paranoia seem to leave her mind when she was training her skills. Because it had been fortnights since her father had spoken against her, all of the bruises in the pain were gone, only silence as they ignored her existence.So she relaxed, decided not to go out to study the book and its unique wordings, no when they were gone she decided that she would practice in their home with the fire from her candle, and her own flame of Discovery in her heart. That would be her downfall, the thing that changed her life of quiet into a life of running.For her father was not supposed to come home, and he was not supposed to see the flames dancing by her touch, she was not supposed to show him the happy smile she got when she was able to do something that she never knew she could do. That day her magic went dark, she needed a notebook and no time to show her the spell she cast.Shoving her hands out in front of her, throwing a hand out, trying to catch anything to stop him. She didn't realize what she was doing until after it was done, watching us as her father looked more and more broken and not knowing how to stop her power from leaking out.She wonders when her father died, during or after the magic had finally stopped breaking out of her. And when her mother came in, and saw it, she wondered if it hurt when the magic picked up on our anxiety and made her an orphan.After 18 and 1/2 winter cycles, made her way outside of her home, nothing but the grimoire she had found in the woods with her, and blood still soaking her clothes for my parents, as blood dripped down her nose from the magic taking too much.

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