ophelia fhey

 biography CURRENTLY UNDER REVISIONY’jarim Fhey doesn’t know much about herself; Who her true parents are or where she came from. A lot of Y’jarim’s early memories were hiding behind a frosty veil that wouldn’t go away. She does know, however, that she was raised upon a Hyurian farm in Central Thanalan with doting parents and that she has a natural gift with ice magics.
Her younger life was mundane. She helped her mother with the harvest, helped her father tending to the livestock, and practiced her ice magic whenever she could. Y’jarim began practicing magic at a young age. She could call ice naturally, but at such a young age, it was wild, and abundant. She had little to no control over it. Especially when her emotions ran high. With the meager funds her parents had, they hired a mage from Ul’dah’s thaumaturgy guild.Under the gaze of a well practiced mage, Y’jarim gained confidence and control over her magic. There were, however, bad days. There would be days where she locked herself in her room from an untraceable sense of dread, with the room feeling like you stepped through a doorway to Coerthas in its deepest winter. Y’jarim would be in the hands of a nightmare, and wake up nearly encased in a crystal cocoon. There were always two common denominators in these nightmares. A red, diamond symbol, flanked by arrows pointing in opposite directions, and figures dressed in black and crimson armor.One seemingly normal night, so much changed in an instant for Y'jarim. Downstairs, there was a loud and insistent banging at the front door. Y’jarim had a bad feeling in her gut and soon felt the fingers of dread close around her throat. She quickly got out of bed and made for the stairs.With her emotions running high, her aether began to surge. Her breath puffed out in a cloud as her surrounding temperature dropped and patches of ice remained where she stepped. There were muffled voices coming from the entrance of the house. Y’jarim made one wrong step and a creek echoed through the house. There was a moment of choking silence before her father shouted “Y’jarim, no!”Sounds of a struggle soon made its way up the stairs. Y’jarim rushed to the bottom of the stairs and in the entrance of her home, were a group of soldiers, dressed in armor of black and crimson, holding back her resisting father. Behind her father, her mother was restrained in the arms of two soldiers, with tears rolling down her face.A ringing started in Y’jarim’s ears. The biggest of the group, began to shout orders at the available grunts. Everything was muffled. Soldiers began to approach Y’jarim. A few pulled their weapons to their side, a few had them pointed at Y’jarim. It was too much. When Y’jarim didn’t comply with any of their demands, one reached towards her. Y’jarim saw the motion and gasped, stepping back. There was a surge of aether, Y’jarim tried to hold it in, fearing the consequences. It was too much. One second, the soldier was reaching towards her, the next, the soldier was frozen in place, encased in ice. After a brief moment of silence, the house burst into chaos. The rest of the soldiers crashed upon Y’jarim.Y’jarim’s aether surged once more, but this time, she couldn’t have even hoped to have held it back. She felt the ice rise beneath her skin and Y’jarim had no control over her magic or emotions. Before she knew it, the ice pierced her skin and impaled the attackers above her. The weight above her went limp and she soon felt warmth drip to her freezing skin and the smell of iron reach her nose. The ice broke its hold on her and Y’jarim rolled to the side. The soldiers that were standing over her soon crumpled to the ground, with bloodied spikes of ice piercing their armor covered chests.Y’jarim took in the quieted chaos around her. The house was engulfed in frost and crystal like spikes of ice. In the wreckage, Y’jarim’s eyes landed upon her parents. They were looking at her with smiles on their faces and a look of relief and acceptance. Y’jarims eyes lowered, and in their stomachs, were the same beautiful spikes that impaled her enemies.Y’jarim rushed to their sides, caressed their faces, and chanted a mix of “No, no, no,” “What have I done?” and “I’m so sorry.” Her parents, against their daughter’s wish for them to remain still, engulfed their daughter, in one last warm, love filled hug. They whispered the same things they’ve told Y’jarim her whole life with them. “We love you” and “We’re so proud of you.” Y’jarim was helpless to heal them. She was no conjurer, and the farm was too far to call for any help. She remained in her parents arms until their last breaths.Y’jarim couldn’t bear to remain in this house. Y’jarim took it upon herself to bury her parents outside with a makeshift grave. At this grave, Y’jarim promised her parents and herself, never again. Never again will she touch the volatile magic buried within her. Even as a last resort, she would rather die, than rely on the power that killed her parents.With a scar soul deep, Y’jarim wished her parents a final farewell, let loose the livestock, and left the farm. Y’jarim didn’t have a plan on what to do and where to go. So Y’jarim just wandered. She wandered to the city of Ul’dah where she changed her outward appearance and started a new life. She found shelter in the camps outside the city, where the refugees lay. She joined the gladiator’s guild to learn how to fight and wield the sword.Years went by and Y’jarim decided to offer her services as a sellsword. Y’jarim was now relied upon as a bodyguard, mercenary, bounty hunter, whatever she was needed for. She wandered far and wide, looking and accepting any work she could.