Portrayed By Alexis Bledel
House Gryffindor
Year 1
Position Student
Sex Female
Race Human
Age 13
Place of Birth Summer Camp, Australia
Date of Birth Dec 25, 1981
Mother Akala
Father Gabriel Salmalin
Siblings None
Marital Status Single
Children None
First Appearance Courtyard Creatures
Last Appearance

Character History:

They tell me I was born on the fifth new moon of the dry season. When I finally saw my … passport, it said December 25, 1981, but I'm still not entirely sure what that means. Unlike most of my tribe, however, my story began long before my birth.

It is said that in the beginning of time, when all of the Children were still little more than children and the People still had dominion over the earth, that all creatures, whether they walked or swam or flew, could - and often did - speak amongst each other. In that time, there were still People who could challenge the Children, and the tribes lived in constant fear of the hunt. They were predator, but also prey. Then came the change.

Out of the sky, fire rained down on the earth. Those of the People - great and powerful beasts - who ruled the earth were slain. No one knows why, for sure, but the old ones tell us it was because of their arrogance and disregard for the world in which they lived.

When they died, the world lost a great deal of its magic. The ruling People had been arrogant and wasteful chiefs, but they had also been the source of the magic which had sustained many of our wonders. From that day forth, the Children forgot how to speak with the People. They lost their ability to listen to the earth and call upon its aid. For ten generations they made their lives on the back of the earth and its People without care; claiming that now they were its rightful rulers.

The old and ancient spirits were saddened and angered by the acts of their Children and would have wiped them out, but Altjira was desperate that no more of his precious creations would be destroyed. On the night before the judgement was to be carried out - the night of the new moon - he brought forth clouds to draw water from the ocean surrounding the world and drew them over the land before bidding them to loose their burden. Bent over the world, he added his own tears to the rain.

It was those tears that were caught in a cup to give a birthing mother to drink. When her children were born - one boy, named Matari and one girl, named Carina - they were born with the rhythm of the world in their hearts and the words of the People in their minds.Matari and Carina taught the Children once more that in order to survive, they must achieve a balance with their world. It is from their two bloodlines that all of our wildmages come from.

There aren't as many of us as there once was. People came from the sea and invaded our shores. We stay away from them, because they are out of balance. When they come to learn our ways, we welcome them, but are always cautious. What few tribes are left to the old ways each have their own wildmage, but our tribe was lucky. They had three.

My mother's mother had been a wildmage and though my own mother didn't have the gift, she was a skilled healer in her own right. My father - they say - was one of the pale-skinned invaders. He was different from those our tribe had seen before. He had his own brand of magic, though it required strange words and a small stick. He had accidentally trodden on the nest of a brown snake and she bit him in defense of her young.

Unable to cure himself with his own magic, he would have died if our hunters hadn't found him. My
grandmother drew the venom from his veins and for a time, he walked among us. He and my mother fell in love. She was quite beautiful and he fascinated her with his strange yellow hair and sea-colored eyes. They were married in the tradition of our people, but happiness didn't last long.

There was a war, apparently. He told my mother that he had to go back, to defend his home. My people understand war, but not like the one he described. They say my mother begged and pleaded for days for him not to go, but he refused. It was his duty, he said, and he would not be swayed from it. I was born ten lunar cycles after he left, but we never heard from him again.

I spent my first five years as the other children did. I loved my mother dearly and was apparently
fascinated by the pastes and brews she made to heal our sick. I never thought there was anything
different about myself. After all, I saw my grandmother talking with the camp dingos and the kites
we used for hunting and my mother often talked to the patchy tom cat who used to show up in the camp every couple of days. Plenty of people talked to their animals.

What I didn't know was that none of them talked back. Well, except to my grandmother and her apprentices. One evening, I was making a stack of small stones near the fire. I asked a nearby bush mouse to bring me a stone that was out of my reach and he complied quite politely. Apparently one of the elders saw me, because the very next morning my mother took me to my grandmother's hut.

I hadn't spent much time with my grandmother before then. I remember she looked much too young to have been my mother's mother. Other grandmothers in the camp had more wrinkles in their face than there were crags in the rocks, but her skin was smooth still, and her eyes were sharp. She bade me ask her dingo to come inside. Not with my mouth, she said; our words mean very little to the People. I was to use only my mind.

When the dingo responded that it would be no trouble and jogged inside, my grandmother seemed… impressed. She told me I was a child of two magicks and that - if I had the proper training - I would be able to walk in beat with water and earth and air and fire as well as the People. She could not train me, though, she said. Hers was only to know the People. Her magic was not strong enough to merit other training. She knew where I could learn, but I would have to leave my clan.

The very next morning, my mother and I left the clan. Just outside the camp, an enormous grey creature I had never before seen stood waiting. My mother didn't seem surprised. She said it was called an elephant, kissed me goodbye and helped me climb aboard. I don't know how long we traveled; I fell asleep. When next I woke, I was with the largest clan in our territory. 50 people lived and worked as a single family. Some were like me - children who had come to learn their magicks - but most had been born in the clan and would die there as well.

I spent years there. I grew to love my teachers, my companions. I hunted with the men and learned how to clean and cook my kill. I learned how to pull fire from the air and how to hold it in my hand to give light without pain. I could call water from nothing and I could call objects to my hand. At night I ran with the dingos and the kangaroo. I learned from the eagles how to hide in the rock, and from the old wildmage I learned many, many things.

His name was Apari and he had lived for more seasons even than my grandmother. He taught me how to clear my mind, open it and listen for the People. It was how we would know which of them to look for and speak with in each place the clan wished to move. I learned that though I could force them to bend to my will, it was always best to explain and ask politely. We are not alone in the world, he always reminded me. We must share it and use our force of will only to protect or prevent disaster.

Apari also showed me the things that - as I grew and learned - I would eventually be able to do as a wildmage. He could - with their permission - release his mind to let it ride with one of the People so that he could see as they saw and learn what they learned. He could change his eyes into those of an eagle or his nose to that of a dingo to better help him find roots or prey. He - and a select few others - could also change their whole selves to the form of an animal. It was a feat I saw him perform many times and saved my life more than once.

He was not only my teacher, but also my friend; my family. I looked to him like a father and he loved me as his own. I think it was probably his influence in the tribe that sheltered me from the worst recriminations. Half-bloods like me were almost never tolerated within the tribe - though I didn't know it then. I only learned why, later.

Part of our time was set aside for learning English. As the future protectors of our clans, we would need to be able to read and speak the language of the invaders, both to avoid their settlements and to speak with the few who crossed our paths. I never liked the language. It's course and rough and … well, weird. So many completely useless words and then not enough words for the important things. I didn't study it as hard as I should have especially their reckoning of distance. If I had… I would probably still be there, rather than here, telling you my story.

I had gone out on my own, of an evening to hunt with my kite friend, Kari. He had been a gift from the hunters of the tribe and - though I wouldn't have kept him if he wanted to leave - he and I got on rather well. Bit dry in his humor, but I do believe that's a bird thing. He was cruising several thermals above me as I ran, both of us just enjoying the feeling of fast, free movement for the first time in days. The setting sun didn't bother me. I knew this landscape incredibly well and all the creatures in it. I had nothing to fear.

Or so I thought.

Intoxicated by sweet night winds - and, if I'm honest, by my own arrogance - we left out territorial boundaries. I raced along a wide path strewn with small rocks, but thought nothing of it. I passed one of their signs, but the 'distance' marker seemed to be high enough to me. It wasn't. Before I knew what happened, blue and red light flashed over me, white light too bright for the darkness blinded me and I fell. Men in strange clothes surrounded me and in my shock I understood very little of what they said. Kari dove from the sky to try and protect me. I could feel a pack of nearby dingos racing closer towards my distress. I had to focus inwards and calm my mind and theirs to try and avery disaster. Once or twice, the men tried to remove Kari from his perch on my arm, but eventually they gave in. I was wrapped in some strange, scratchy blanket and made to sit in the back of a very strange-looking metal beast.

I saw you, you know. Out of all the other men, you were the one who noticed the ring of dingos standing watch just outside the light of your metal beasts.

They brought me here and you had them find me the chains of cloth you all wear and now you tell me that you're a mage like me? You don't look like a mage. You look like my father was supposed to, a little. I suppose now that you know my story, I can go home now, yes? What? England? I don't care if it's against your silly laws, I belong with my clan! Don't I have a say in this? I -

I am afraid. The man let me keep Kari, since my kite friend behaved so well. He said they found my father's mother in England and that I would be going to live with her, where I belong. He doesn't understand that I don't belong here. Here where it's cold and wet and the people have to hide their skin for fear of freezing. I have to go to this thing they call a school. My … my grandmother says I must continue to learn magic like my father before me. She won't… She won't tell me where he is or, or what happened to him. My one comfort is that Kari may come with me. At least with him I am not alone. I have someone else who can share in my memories of heat and life and freedom.

For I am no longer free.


Daine has a natural affinity with all animals. She is - or would have been - what her people call a wildmage, someone who walks in time with the earth's pulse. She has learned to use her magic to open her mind and communicate with animals and those mythical beings whose shape and form are those of - as her tribe calls the animals - the People. She had just started training on how to use her magic to heal the injuries and maladies of others before being taken away. An excellent survivalist - even at such a young age - Daine can shoot the longbow of her tribe as well as many of the men and is fairly adept at hunting and preparing her own game. Her magic - as is the magic of all her kind - is done without a wand. If a focus is needed for a more powerful, draining or difficult spell, she knows how to use the small 'casting stones' (opals) which act as 'focus'. Daine has never, ever used a wand. Up until she came to England, she'd never even seen one. While the one she uses has been tailored to her magic as best as it can be, she doesn't understand the point of them and has so far had to struggle immensely to accomplish even the simplest of Hogwarts' Latin spells. Having grown up in a different culture, her manners may offend others who don't understand; for instance, it is considered highly rude to make eye contact with a person or creature unless you are establishing dominance or enforcing a rule, whereas it's only polite to Western society that you make eye-contact when speaking. People who do otherwise are seen as shifty. Her family history has always been a source of shame to her; it, along with a naturally low self-esteem makes her incredibly vulnerable to others' slurs and opinions. Often she can take them too close to heart. Hand in hand with this is that she is easily swayed into guilt and self-recrimination for things others see as bad. It's not hard to convince her that something which has gone wrong is, somehow, all her fault. On the flip side, however, once she gets an idea in her head of a job that needs to be done - or in defense of a friend - she doesn't let go, even in the face of authority. She won't really stand up for herself, but she'll go to the end of her rope for a friend - be they two-legged or four.


Other Information

Based on Daine's roots and brand of magic, there will be situations where RP with her will require some extra communication OOCly between the players. I'll do my best to be as proactive as possible, but I'm only human, so if you see something odd, please feel free to page me! :)

Memorable Quotes:

Trivia and Notes:

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