Mitra's Aria

Note from the author:
Hey everyone!
This is the background story for my character. It's sort of long, but I am imaginative and like to make characters. I believe I have my lore correct and hopefully not too imposing by having such a powerful destiny. Feedback is appreciated just be polite. Oh I am also not the best with grammar.

Mitra’s Aria


Long had Banya dreamed of a child. Preferably a daughter she could share her days with, but her yearning shall forever continue. Banya had devoted her life to Mitra, she was a high rank priestess at the later end of her life.

Having given her life over to Mitra she had always been forbidden to bed a man. Early in life the sacrifice of not having a child seemed minimal to devoting her life to Mitra and his holy grace, but as days grow shorter and her time in the realm of the living draws to its end Banya can only dream.

One evening a council of the highest ranked priests gathered to discuss a new finding: An aria. No composer is listed, but it was found among ancient scrolls the priests had been searching to recover for years. The aria only had a title and a warning on the page before the pages of music.
The warning read: “Here in contains “Mitra’s Aria” a piece of music from Mitra himself. When sung: the deepest wish inside the heart of the performer shall come to pass.”
All color had drained from Banya’s face and the rest of the discussion went unheard to her ears. All Banya could think is her wish could be granted; that her child may still come to be.

From preliminary studies by the best bards of Hyboria ruled that despite the fact that the piece is labeled an aria; no human voice could cover the range or perform the piece with the grace required. The priests concluded that the aria should be stored in a vault and forgotten. Never to be mentioned again.
Banya was a talented singer having experience performing for Mitrian choirs. She was also fluent linguists, chief translator for priests in their travels through Hyboria spreading the word of Mitra, so any language the music may be written in she should be able to decipher.

Patience is a key virtue of Mitra, and Banya had spent all of hers. Waiting six long months when the guards would be taken away from the vault and the aria forgotten. One night Banya crept from her bed to the vault where the aria was sealed away. She moved quickly taking only the pages of the aria and leaving everything else in the exact way it was before as to not raise suspicion and risk getting caught. Mitra was all she had known and she knew she was risking everything she had achieved in her lifetime, but if her wish is granted it would be more than worth any risk.

Banya practiced for months in different places during her free time, having memorized the aria in its entirety. Not only was the range astounding, but the language. It was written in an old language mostly forgotten in this age, but said to be the language of the first Mitrian prophets. Banya luckily was one of five people in all of Hyboria whom could speak the language.

One night when the bustling streets of Aquilonia had calmed Banya snuck away to a deserted hillside out of sight, and sound, of the city so she may perform her ritual undisturbed. It was a full moon and the small gulley was lit beautifully by the silver light that it cast down upon the land.

Banya began to sing and fill the gulley with beautiful sound hitting unearthly lows that made the ground tremble and highs the heavens could only dream of that caused the moonlight to brighten to being sun rays. She sang so gracefully she began to cry as she performed. Nothing could stop her now. The wish of a child burned so hot within her heart and then it was over. The gulley grew silent. Not a single sound was heard and the light seemed to pale. Banya was done. She hoped that her performance would please Mitra enough for her wish to be granted. She walked back in to the city returned the aria to the vault and went to bed.

Several months later during a cold winter night as the rain sang “drip splash” in never ending cadence upon the city streets a song rang across the night. Though unrecognized by most Banya knew right away it was Mitra’s Aria. But how? How could anyone else sing that piece? How would anyone else even know what to sing?
Banya dropped everything and sailed out of the temple and in to the cold night. She had not gone far before falling to her knees in uncontrollable tears. The song was coming from an infant. A child sitting in a basket, but rather than screaming to be picked up and saved from the treacherous night she was singing. Singing Mitra’s Aria.

Banya after much debate was allowed to keep the child and raise her as her own under the condition that she shall forever be a servant of Mitra. Banya named the girl Aria. This seemed fitting due to during the debate another priest had recognized the aria and brought it up stating that “This child is an abomination! That aria is unknown to mortal ears and impossible to sing! Yet this little witch sings it upon our doorstep! This is a sign of temptation! Do away with the foul creature at once!” This was the typical stance of Puel. He always seemed to be in fear that things were an abomination of Mitra.

Puel was countered most effectively by Tekol, who seemed to be the voice of reason to Mitra’s priests in those days. Tekol spoke calmly and evenly, “This is but a baby. I take her as a blessing. Evil would never be able to tolerate such beauty as the aria.”

In the end reason won out and Aria was growing up. Often times she was viewed as a troublemaker. On one occasion she was caught speaking the old tongue of Mitra’s profits. No one had taught this to her, but the priests believed she was eavesdropping where she shouldn’t be. They were not only proved wrong when she spoke the language more fluent than any, but knew of teaching in the most closely guarded texts of Mitra.

The young girl Aria often would display complete lack of discipline. Making jests and mischief such as; laughing during church and skipping down quiet hallways. Even as she grew older no one could contain the joy and sparkle from her eyes. Each day she took as a blessing and could not help herself but to take pleasure in existing.

The biggest instance of trouble that persisted in Aria was her desire for pleasures of the flesh. Aria often spoke of physical expression a deeper bond of love and encouraged by Mitra. This of course was shunned and Aria was continually reprimanded on the matter.

One day she was caught kissing a young squire under a tree by the temple and was severely punished and almost thrown out for good. Until she was old enough to leave she ceased her heart’s desire for love.
Aria had always stayed close to the squire though. Unable to contain herself with his glorious fictional stories of being Mitra’s Protector and that he would guard the aria with his life. Aria was sure this was to be true and that together their souls could bring peace to Hyboria.

The priests were terrified of her. They knew something of her was divine, but her lack of discipline and overall joy of mischief made her look less so. Aria promoted independence and seeking Mitra within one’s own heart. Not from priests or church. This was unacceptable. And so, they bargained.

Aria had disappeared. Years had gone by and no one had heard word of her or even a reason why she had gone. Almost as destiny the young squire had disappeared as well only weeks later. Leaving the town to believe they had run off to wed, preferring optimism which was a virtue Aria had plenty of. Still some would tell a darker tale. That she was given to Thoth-Amon to be his slave. The priests were rid of a troublesome teenager and had secured a short time of peace with the servants of Set.

But now, a few years later, a young woman came off a boat. She looks like nothing but an escaped slave turned revolutionary, but there is something about her. She has the power of Mitra flowing through her, the wisdom of all creation. She is an extension of Mitra, and she goes by Aria.

awwwww

-blink blink- .... -blink blink- wow.... -blink- wow

Wow, very thorough