Ilana sat in her father's arms, watching as he brought a wilted rose back to life. A gentle lullaby so familiar, the simple, soft, loving tune kissed her ears as he rested his chin onto her head. His voice like honey, his magic warmed her in wonder, and utter awe. She stared wide eyed at the flower.

She stared at the faded painting, the only remaining image of her single parent, after years of absence. not for him leaving her, no, he had fallen in the chaos of the raids upon their home, their island. Though he was a powerful mage in flora. he was no healer, unlike his late wife, who had given her life, for their daughter. He gave his life in a form of protecting the child. So she could live a long, happy life. If only he knew the future he set for her, though yes, full of joy now, there was still over a hundred years of agony. She was a mere 12 years of age when she was taken, lost in time, lost in memory. only saved by an assassin, who took her in, and taught her everything she knew. Becoming her father figure, she so long missed.

soooo yeah, this's a bit of sweet/ sad bit of ilana, my elf's backstory, before she was taken into slave trade, before she became a mercenary, and before she met her now husband, and all that jazz. This was when she was a mere 2 years old, her memory of this time is EXTREMELY fuzzy, but she remembers staring at the flower, how it bloomed before her very eyes, and that's all in that specific time in her life.