top of page
aquaria 36.jpg
aquaria 52.jpg


-Aquaria's General Info-

(For More Info on Lore and His Homeland Please Click the White Sands Button Above.)


Full Name: Aquaria Zansasuke Devante
 Nicknames: Aqua
Titles: The Warrior-poet, The Moth Samurai
 Race: Kitsune
Gender: Male
Day of Birth: Year of the moon.
Age: 112 years old
​Hair: White
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Blue/ crimson if tonic is consumed.
​Height: 6’ 3”
Weight: 195Lbs
Place of Residence: White Sands Empire
Place of Birth: Obsidian Canyon
​Alignment: Chaotic Good
​Relationship: Taken
Family: Maria grace Lafaint (Significant other)

Somber (younger sister)
​Sexual Orientation: Straight
Personality: Calm, Collective, Inquisitive

Vocation: Monster Hunter

​Appearance: Black and white Kimono with the sigil of the house of Devante

Distinctive Marks: Moonlight like markings that emit bioluminescence to serve as indicators of his counters.

​Traits: Keen Sense of smell, hearing, Third eye (the ability to sense the flow of chi and magic, while in stillness) Large mana pool, Suppression of magical flow till attacking, Speed (max 30mph due to fox heritage), Nimble and fluid. Ambidextrous.

​Faults: Considerate to a fault, Selfless

Class: Spell blade dancer. 

Non Combat skills: Literate, well-spoken, noble, Writer, and

musically gifted with the Flute, String and Bow instruments. Enchanting singing voice.

Traveling NPC companion: A large, sentient moth known as Maria.








Faction: House Devante

House Devante has a long tradition of serving the empire in times of strife, turmoil, and war dating back 700 years. Though it’s strength has waned a bit under the passage of time. Some people still recollect the centuries of sacrifice spanning back to the third era. It is a symbol that despite being its weakest in a long time, these people still offer reverence to it. Paying respect to its ancestors and the sole living heirs to the family, Aquaria Zansasuke Devante, Matsumota Crisandra Devante. The family is known for its skill with hunting monsters, as well as their unique fighting style is known as stillness, passed on through the generations, despite being a family of kitsunes, often seen as second class citizens. The house proves that with hard work and sacrifice, even those at the bottom can ascend the social ladder. Some hope the family will fade into the pages of history, while others wish to see it’s strength returned. No matter one’s thoughts, it is clear that the house has earned its reputation even if it may be a relic best left forgotten in time


-Kitsune race Lore-

Kitsune, monster slayer, vanquishers of the worlds grime and pest, the ultimate killing spirit made flesh.  Their influence over the realm is undeniable, hero to some, mischievous meddling spirits to others, even con artists usurping hard-earned coin from the gullible to a few. Yet with the advent of the caster gun and the advancements in technology, the need for monster slayers has dwindled, long gone are the comfy contracts of old, what remains are more proving precarious. As such, those that have forgotten the old ways, having thrived in safety brought by technological development view them as mere myth, treating them with haughtiness. Kitsunes, by nature, are masters of therianthropy, capable of assuming the form of their spirit animal to magnify their intrepidity in conflict.

As a result, many indigenous tribes spread across the cascading gnolls of blanched sands depict the species as foreboding demons.  Harbingers of deception, pestilence, and destruction. A fact not helped by their diabolical form when assuming this hard to master ability that not all Kitsune can maintain, let alone harness without consequence. Masters of melding the dance of blades with the conjuring of magic, these monster slayers are a unique breed of fighter destined to find their new place in the ever-shifting land. Leaving behind only the middling to most precarious contracts available, only those outside the city truly see a need for their kind.  Throughout history, the species has been looked on as freaks, second class citizens, or abominations. Yet, whenever monsters are prevalent, or during times of war, suddenly the government's and peoples position toward them shift ever so slightly.


Contrary to romanticized depictions, Kitsune's with nine tails is not a sign of strength, but rather a symbol of division. Outsiders are often mistaking more, as an inherent token of being of higher merit or importance. Despite popular mythos, only the most disciplined of Kitsune can achieve their animal form, yet being skillful in the art of therianthropy, they are not restricted to a pure fox form. Rather embodying the animal spirit they are most drawn too, legends say that only the most powerful of their kind can maintain control while dawning such bestial visage. Being beastkin, they have a strong sense of smell and hearing, quick reflexes and speed, and more imposing strength when compared to their human counterparts.  Their kind possessing a natural resistance toward disease and toxins. Capable of living a life up to the mid 300ish years of age before expiration. Though their line fo work, and warrior society often means they perish long before their natural end. Some cling to this notion, while others deduce it is merely whimsical thinking. 

As a society, they are very honor based, mastering their proficiency before venturing into another field. It is said that if one is a stablehand, they should aspire to be the best Stablehand in the realm to bring honor and pay reverence to their ancestors. From a young age, every member of their society is trained in combat, though only those able to survive and endure the harsh training regiment, are permitted to become monster hunters. The kitsune race within the white sands views this vocation as beyond reputable, considering the hunt's stimulation to be the very pinnacle of their existence. While most human children may seek to be kings, lords, knights, the kitsune only aspire to be the best mercenaries and hunters within the realm. Aside from martial disciplines. Those that are judged worthy of becoming slayers are trained in alchemy, magic, and history. Pertaining to their craft and the monstrosities of the world, finding knowledge like any tool to have its place. 

While far from the most well read species, they still value scholarly pursuits, even if it isn't on the top of their social hierarchy. That distinction goes to monster hunters and artists alike, the two often juxtaposing brilliantly together. Religion wise they worship the Eldritch aspect of war and the Eldritch aspect of art.  Marriage within kitsune society is unique; there isn't a huge ceremony; instead, the two mates return to their tent and dwell together.  The mere act of fornicating in one's home a symbol for the two houses melding their flesh into one; thus, it is not uncommon to find those kitsunes preferring more sexual encounters to seek out a brothel. As brothels are sanctioned and not seen as a source of moral quandary, but a necessary function to alleviate stress and primal desires. When it comes to funeral rites, their species believe in endocannibalism, that devouring the dead grants them the fallen one's powers. This barbarous, repugnant tradition in most outsiders eyes is not done by eating flesh, but grinding cremated remains into a fine powder and adding it into their tea or stews. When a hero of the people passes on, the entire community will gather to drink a few glasses of tea as a group, honoring their accomplishments by accepting their essence into the whole of the society's body.





-Main Equipment.-


Armor(s): Black and white kimono, with gold adornments. Sown on the back is a moth, on the sleeves of his top the sigil of the House of Devante.

Weapon: A brother and sister Katana’s known as equilibrium, enchanted with the power of lunar light and darkness. One permits his Chi to manipulate the light around him, resembling that of the moon to coat the blade with a burning white-hot fire. When Chi is transitioned, the power of the dark side of the moon is embraced. Using his Chi he can create a tentacle of darkness that acts like a razor-sharp whip, dripping inky water and coated in black slime. Capable of digging into flesh or coiling around it. Using the teeth of hell to tear flesh from bone if he so desires. Max range 15 ft. Like all members of the Devante family line, the weapon is an extension of himself, reflecting his true nature at all times. As such, perfect control and discipline are needed to maintain these effects.


Offhand- A finely engraved miniature crossbow, fires silver-coated bolt for undead and werewolves.20 Bolts on his person at any given time.Max effect range of 50 feet



-Other Equipment/Tools of the trade.-



(Any tools will be mentioned before entering combat, the ones with an * are those he always has on his person.)


Ice vail- Aquaria can craft and store up to two ice vails; these are tubes filled with a cerulean blue liquid when twisted and enhanced with his mana become explosive devices capable of freezing an area solid. Covering the diameter in jagged shards of ice that can encapsulate the target within their gelid embrace. The max effective range being 15 ft, freezing his prey only if they are within 5 ft of the epicenter, effective against fire demons and flame elemental especially. A common trinket in every monster hunters arsenal. It can also be used to freeze water solid to allow traversing.


*Silver Dust- Magically charged gem powder contained in a spherical glass device, when thrown the tool explodes, sending forth silver-like particles that stick to any surface. Useful for making invisible targets visible, Burning vampires and werewolves as well as permitting ghosts to slowly drift into a more corporeal state, allowing the hunter to dispatch of baleful spirits. The max effective range is a 10 ft diameter; Aquaria can house up to two of these implements to assist with his hunt.


Magma bomb- The salts of hell itself, or so it is believed to be according to local folklore. Harvest from the fires of the volcanic flats of the Ashlandian region within the White Sand Empire. Held in the arrow-like contraption, that when impacted causes a fiery blast of magma that will linger on the target or environment for two turns. Useful for setting up environmental hazards, warding off ice giants, or against plant or earth base elementals/spirits. Up to two can be held at any given time, requiring Aquaria’s own mana to properly active the alchemical substance. Max diameter of 5 ft, is launched from his crossbow. 


*Concussion gale- An arrow tip tool, can be launched from his crossbow as a nonlethal or crowd control offensive device. When the tip hits a target, the glass shatters, causing mild cuts, but triggering a blast of air that erupts in a 360 sphere. Anything within 10 ft of impact will be hurled backward or knocked onto their feet if they are within 300 lbs, useful for putting out a fire, gas, sandstorm, and other such environmental effects that may plague the battlefield. Aquaria can use his mana to brake the tip and bend it forward into a cone instead from his palm, cutting up his skin but useful as a way to displace target if his crossbow isn’t accessible. A max of three can be on his person at any given time.


Earthen trap- A mine like charge Aquaria can place on the ground, imparting his magic onto the device so that any target that steps within 5 feet of the trap will find themselves setting it off. Once the trap is sprung, a multi-layer 10ft bear trap of jagged rocks will spring from the earth and crash into whatever is toward the center, impaling them for both sides. Useful for immobilizing large ground base prey, or those silly enough to step into the device. A max of one at any given time.


Aerial juggle- A ground-based trap, imbued with Aquaria's mana that triggers an upward explosion of air, throwing the target 10 to 20 feet into the sky. A crowd controlling device, with a diameter of 10 feet for range and activation. The aerial juggle depends on the creatures/humans weight. It is within under 1-249lbs 20 feet if up to 250-400lbs 10 feet. 401-500lbs a mild bump skyward, over 0 effects.


*Fox sense tonic- An alchemical potion that is toxic to anyone not a kitsune on consumption, but when a kitsune devours its poisons, their senses are amplified by 25%, while also giving them the ability to see in the dark for five turns.  If more then two are consumed in a fight, Aquaria will die from an overdose, while under the influences of the tonic influences that hunters blood will cause mild burns if exiting the body. The result of the drug will lower his overall speed by 33%, but not his mental reaction time. While under the effect, he may also not regenerate any mana. Up to 3 on his person


*Bull tonic- A poisonous potion that will enhance his speed and strength by 25%, but limiting his animal sense by 50% for the duration of the influence. If taken along with Fox's sense or visa versa, Aquaria will die, while in this state, his muscles will become more burdensome, lowering his jumping and flexibility by 25%. Last for five turns, also prevents the regeneration of mana, and his blood will slowly burn apart organic matter outside of his cells. Up to 3 on his person at any given time.







-Racial Traits-

A kitsune is able to reach a max speed of 30 mph due to its heritage as fox spirits. Making them quick opportune hunters, able to chase down their prey for extended periods of time with the right cardiovascular workout routines. 
Strength- Throughout the White Sand’s history, the Kitsune have served as loyal guardians and warriors of the state. They were being seen as a spiritual reflection for the cunning will of the people. As well as a manifestation of their inner spiritual strength. Their people, while far from the most physically strong creatures of the realm, can be as much as 2x stronger than their human counterparts. The increase in muscle density to make this possible also, in turn, makes their muscular system more durable than your average mortals.

Flexibility- Nimble and agile by trade, the proud kitsune race are the embodiment of a graceful predator. Able to bend their form as much as the most efficient human contortionist. While benign able to jump up to twice their total heights. From a young age, they are trained in the acrobatics arts, for it is believed that combat is an art form much like a fine waltz. Even those that never taste blood still have an appreciation for the art due to their ancestors and cultural beliefs. 

Smell- Kitsunes can smell up to 2 miles away in favorable conditions. Aiding them in tracking and chasing down their prey. An evolutionary trait that has surprisingly not weakened with time. While not perfect, the predators can pinpoint the general location and approach of their target. But like any animal, this sense can be tricked with enough wit.

Hearing- Their animal-like ears are well-developed tools of their craft, the product of countless years of evolutionary progress. A kitsune's hearing is 3-4 times greater than that of your normal human, permitting them to get the general location of their foe even when their vision and other senses are robbed of them.

Poison/disease resilience- Down in the resilience/weakness section of the sheet.

Temperature resilience- Down in the resilience/weakness section of the sheet

  Moth form- The Kitsune form is a state of being only the wisest, and most skilled hunters can achieve. Being able to manifest their inner spirit to the flesh, they are often revered by their otherkin as the apex predators, selected by the ancestors to guide the people with their wisdom and strength. As such, being able to manifest this unique racial transformation is often considered as much as a curse, as it is a blessing. The form ebbs and flows with the inner spiritual will of the host, proving rather malleable in nature. While this form is achieved, their physical strength will nearly double and be allowed to move at speeds up to 200% faster at burst with a 50% boost in sustainable mobility. Their ability to jump increases from 2x their height to 2.5x. The form is often depicted in folklore and art as being a bone-white exoskeleton, with tribal markings embellishing the bestial appearance.

  Some have fur, others spikes, but all have the same, terrifying demon-like mask depicting the animal they represent. It is because of this mask that many races once thought, and some still do them as demonic spirits and tricksters. Aquaria’s own form is a bioluminescent blueish spiraling pattern throughout, bone-white exterior, and moth-like hair protruding from the cracks and joints of the exterior shell. With two pairs of bioluminescent wings the permit him to fly across the battlefield. His exoskeleton like a chitin able to deflect most sources of piercing damage, yet is susceptible to blunt force such as Warhammer and other such instruments. In this state of being Aquaria becomes the avatar of the moon, fulling embodying its influences.

giphy (6).gif

Moth Form

bogdan-rezunenko-1 (1).jpg
Aquaria 28.jpg
aquaria 49.jpg
aquaria 34.jpg

-Unique passive/stances-


Stillness (stance)- The Devante art, passed down from generation to generation of the line. A rare, potent ability that grants the user the ability to sense magical properties with semi clarity. This means that while Aquaria can sense something is coming, the exact nature, velocity, angle, mass, or nature of the attack remain obscured. Imagine it like that of the hairs of a fly, while it informs the host of a coming attack or intruder, it doesn't provide a perfectly clear vision of the source. The second effect is the ability to suppress one's own Chi to a near 0, coming off as unimpressive. The mask fading whenever an attack is ready to be made. Making it, so the target has a far limited time to react when contrasted to most users of the arcane/spiritual arts. When achieving this state of mind, the body emits a soft white outline. 

Magic absorption- Aquaria can grow a pulsating bioluminescence set of moth wings, that will consume all nearby magic from the environment. This does not work on opponent's attacks, however, it can clear up a few magical environmental effects such as fog, sand storms, static lightning clouds, frigid winds, borning winds, cyclones, and steam that is magic-based. Yet darkness or shadow environmental effects will remain unaffected. It can only be activated while in his moth form.

Moth stance- This allows the transition of the lunar cycle, the Solar and Lunar arts. After years of practice, Aquaria can combine this dance flawlessly with that of the Stillness art passed down from the generations.


Dream walking- A unique noncombat passive, Aquaria does not sleep rather absorbs the energy from the moon to rejuvenate his energy. One negative aspect of this mutation is that he can at times unknowingly slip into the past via echos, or dreams encapsulated in time. While visiting the memories he is unable to alter them, only serving as a passenger to witness the events unfold. This is an ability used for story purposes only, and will not be utilized to gather information unless every party involves in the RP agrees. 




+25% Physical and blunt force trauma when the Moth form is active

+50%- All light attacks or dark attacks depending on stance. (Only active during Moth form, shadow magic remains unaffected)

+50%- Resilience to poison and disease based attack due to racial passive

+50% resilience to the effects of temperature. This does not mean ice and fire attacks, rather the cold and heat they produce/
-50%- To current stance, if light darkness (not shadow) if darkness light (not fire or lightning. Only in moth form)



Description: Aquaria, is duality made flesh, much like that of our celestial body known as the moon. Two sides of the same astral body blessed by the spirit of the moth. As such, his abilities will contradict each other. Meaning, if he uses a light attack, it will destroy the effects of the dark. And if he uses his darkness abilities, the light will dissipate into nothingness with no mana being restored. Each successful attack will add either a solar counter or a lunar mark. A successful attack also means one that is blocked or parried by either the target or an object imbued with their chi/magic/energy. After five markers, he can unleash his ultimate special abilities. If five solar, just the solar. If 5 lunar, just the lunar. If both dualities can be achieved, the light behaves as superheated particles in the shape of moon crescents, sharp as glass similar to a searing blade.

Burning and cutting through unprotected flesh, dissolving shadows, yet having little true mass. As such, even a wave of this attack will not cause a target to budge. Being that the inferno is light-based energy, the burns occur from the inside outward. Unlike fire, which is an exterior burn. Similar to burning an ant with a magnifying glass. While the darkness is more of a heavy mass, generating crushing force and weighing a target down, being struck by a mobile attack is like hitting a thick stone wall. It is important to note, both can never be activated at the same time, minus when 5 markers of each have been collected. At which point, he can shift and maintain both effects for three turns. Before they cancel each other out. (as far as how counters work, each ability will be specified. Keep in mind things are subject to change based on player feedback, and mod demands. As such, feel free to contact me with any concerns. I am rather receptive.)




-Solar Abilities-


Luminous wings- From the back large elegant, luminous moth-like wings with detailed patterns will sprout. Made from light magic, they don’t provide any utility for flight. They are instead sending forth a blinding pulse of light before flapping forward and backward, generating burning hot winds that can clear debris, hazards, and burn targets launching them backward. The flaps create what appears to be light like dust particles. The burns are far from lethal, yet the kinetic energy generated by the gust at 6 ft can shatter bones depending on the psychology of the target. The force can send anyone or anything under 500lbs flying backward with a max effective range of 20 feet. The winds are cone-shaped and influence both the front and the back. Thus virtually leaving the sides untouched by the effects. This ability doesn’t add a counter of solar. If he moves, the wings will cease their flapping. Yet he can dodge and isn’t locked fully into place.

Lunar crescent- Can create a single 6 inches thick and 5 feet wide, crescent shape attack of heated light, capable of burning and cutting flesh yet utterly dispersed by armor or barriers resulting in no apparent effect aside from burning any shadows nearby (2 feet of impact). Incapable of severing limbs or slicing a target in half, as the cut will only be 1 inch deep. The wound will be cauterized from the heat and tissue being cooked from within. As such, the target will not bleed outside of the initial impact. This skill only adds a solar counter if the flesh is hit.

Moonlight beam- Able to fire a straight beam of light energy, the beam can only last for 2 seconds at a time and is six inches in diameter. Capable of traveling up to 25 ft, at which point it loses any damage potential beyond that range. Within 15 ft, the beam can melt through steel if held for the whole 2 seconds, anything beyond that, and it can be dispersed harmlessly by armor or magical barrier. If within 15 ft, this adds a counter if blocked, hit, or parried. If beyond 15ft only if the flesh is hit.

Solace slash- The blades become coated in superheated light, emitting white fire that when slash creates a line of laser that follows the blades extending their reach to  7ft. Due to the attack being near massless as it is light, the extensions will have no effect on the target as far as kinetic energy is concerned. It can be deflected and dispersed by a magical barrier but can heat armor. While not melting it, causing the skin and flesh behind to be burned by the heat after two slashes to the same area. The beams can not linger unless the blades are in motion. As such, blocking them, or having them strike against armor would result in them fading. Only adds a counter if the flesh is burnt. 


Lunar flame- Aquaria can conjure a stream of superheated white light resembling that of a flame from his fingers tips. Burning the flesh from all nearby targets as it erupts in a cone-shape. Maximum reach of 13 ft in length and five feet in width. The attack burns the target from the inside out, can be deflected by armor or magical shields of darkness (not shadow). Adds a single solar counter on impact.

Solar Ultimate: Moth growth- If five counters are achieved of solar, pincers of light. Capable of attacking a nearby target. The effect will last for only three turns. The pincers again do not provide kinetic energy, can only burn what they hold, and can be deflected by adequate magical barriers.





-Darkness Abilities.- 


(As specified, any use of darkness will end all Solar effects but not the counter. This includes the ultimate.)


Shadow Obelisk: Can erect up to two barriers from the dark side of the moon (One per turn), each standing 10 ft tall and 8 ft wide. These dark obelisks are capable of deflecting and protecting against most attacks. The barrier can be consumed by flames but will swallow any and all light that hits them, which are moderate or lesser in scale or power. Intense light attacks, however, will disrupt and disperse them into the wind.  The barrier can be erected within 8 ft of the caster in any direction. No counter added.

Dark hairs- Able to grow dark, moth-like hair on his palms and feet, permitting him to scale up walls and hang from the ceiling at the expense of constant mana usage. Flame or light attacks will incinerate the hairs, causing Aquaria to fall to the ground. The tiny sharp fibers can pierce through his gloves and sandals, permitting them to be used even when covered. No counter added
Abyssal Shard-
 This permits the generation of a dark, jaded like a spike. Unable to do anything but pierce an opponent through light armor, will appear from the shadows of nearby objects, or from the shadow the opponent may cast on an object other than the floor and their own body (To include even the body of Aquaria). The crystal-like matter can be consumed by Aquaria to add one Lunar counter. It can be incinerated by flames or powerful light sources, Even shattered with a high enough frequency. It can only form within 20 ft of the caster if foreign shadows are around, or an object from which the opponent can cast their shadow.

Inky stain- Can create a 20 ft long, 20 ft wide line of slippery darkness serving as a slick road, allowing Aquaria to slide at speeds up to 45 mph across them to evade attacks. In the end, he can fire another to extend its reach; if not, it will end after the 20ft limit. It can also be coated on walls and ceilings to use with his Dark hairs' ability for further utility. It provides no counter and can be incinerated by flames or powerful light attacks.


An opponent may slip on the material, however much like any slick surface, it can be negated.

Void fingers- Aquaria can coat his fingers in darkness, encapsulating them in a hard diamond-like martial that is jagged in nature. The artificial claws can extend up to 12 feet in length or be launched as a projectile up till 25 ft in a fan shape pattern. Drilling into the flesh of targets in impact, capable of piercing up to light armor. Adds a Lunar counter on a successful hit. 

Dark Side of the moon- Aquaria is able to create intense darkness, covering a 25ft diameter around himself. The blackness is so potent; it can be felt. No light will illuminate through it; however, large amounts of fire or a powerful gust can disperse it. The thick shade from the moon will remove anyone's sight within, minus the caster. As well as alter their sense of feel slightly, however, the ability to sense magic will not be affected, nor smell. Furthermore, any light-based attacks will be consumed, furthering the reach of the effect. The darkness also will muffle any and all sound, as it’s a sensory deprivation field. It does this by manipulating the vibration of air molecules within. The lack of sound and alteration of the sense of smell, however, does impact Aquaria as a two-edged sword. It is said that those trapped within, given enough time, will go mad. (This is a rumor and doesn’t actually happen unless the player is fine with it for story sake.) The Kitsune can consume the dark field to add a counter. But doing so will remove all beneficial effects it provided. This ability has a three turn cooldown AFTER expiration and may only last for two turns unless light attacks are fed to it, in which case a turn is added per attack. 

Lunar ultimate: Man on the moon- Covers himself in darkness from head to toe, blurring his movements while also providing a magical armor capable of deflecting lesser magic attacks (Such as a basic magic missile). It provides a boosted defense from physical while enhancing the kitsunes speed and strength by 35%. The armor itself can be dispersed, or burned away with either fire or light magic. Lesser attacks will cause the darkness to wither away from the point of impact, reforming next turn, while potent sources will instantly turn the coating into nothingness. Streams of fire or light will be defended against for 2 seconds before the armor dissipates, giving way to exposed and vulnerable flesh.  Ths suit may only last for three turns.




Aquaria 33.jpg
Aquaria 29.jpg



-Aquaria's Bio-



War and the pain it brings not even time can fully mend. Though the peasants may move on, and the sacrifices are romanticized by the generations that follow. And even if the scars somehow heal, the influence of those wrinkles forever alters the composition of the land and its inhabitants. The foreboding truth is war has changed; the era of technology has forever shaped the landscape. The eons of honing one's craft rapidly dissolve and fade into obscurity, as the quick resolution of the caster rifle has served as a catalyst to bridge the gap between seasoned, and more green soldiers. 
The white sands empire is undergoing a cultural, technological, and spiritual metamorphosis that will only further sow divisive seeds of discourse. A storm lurks just beyond the horizon, a battle for the very soul and future of my homeland. My story, my story, is just that of a humble man, thrust into a spiral of self-destruction. A pawn of the state, a weapon of war. Hero to some, an insidious demon to others. The reality is seldom so easy to categorize as the truth often falls in the middle. Like all who live by the sword, I have done terrible things for the right reasons. But good intentions seldom bear benevolent fruit, if only the world were so simple. This is my story, one of the last masters of a dying craft trying to find their place in this ever-shifting sands of his world.



























Chapter 1, “Forged in fire.”
Like all young men, I honored the old ways. Finding peace in “simpler” times, my naivety clear now with the gift of hindsight. Yet during those blissful days of my youth, I found myself blinded and enamored by the honor of conflict. My father instilled in me from a young age that a man’s merit can only be achieved when properly tested by the inferno of war. Like a furnace, the clashing and smoldering heat hammered away a man’s imperfections, leaving behind the true mettle of one’s worth. Even now, despite all that has transpired in my life. I can appreciate the truth in those words. 
My father never lied to me; rather, I misinterpreted what it was he meant. Casting aside his wisdom and subtle warnings as a sign to further my arrogant delusions of grandeur. It is with great disdain, peering back through the lens of time, that I wish I knew then what I knew now. Like many, I also envy the road not taken, frivolously pondering how things would have turned out if I had turned left and not right. But we are each the masters of our own destiny, the path I set was my own. A reality though bitter and bleak still must be accepted if progress is to ever be made. For the truth is rarely pleasant to behold, easy to shy, then to accept the errors of one’s ways. Easier to find a scapegoat, some nefarious will to cast blame on like some sort of temperamental child.
No one made me join the military; no one forced my hand. It was by my own volition, compelled to prove my worth as a man to my father. Through blood, steel, sweat, and tears I would carry our family banner with misplaced pride. It wasn’t till I first gutted a man, and saw what we are truly made of did I understand the folly of this course. I still remember the smell of burning flesh, hair, and the sound of lamentation as we set our enemies' lands ablaze. The trauma of war has two outcomes, it either breaks a man's psyche like a glass bottle into a thousand pieces. That no matter how much you try to glue the pieces back together, they will never be perfect again. Or breaks the man into a jagged weapon, while never hole he can learn to use what he has earned through the tribulations of the war machine to further himself.
I was the latter, returning home after my first campaign a different man. Seeing my younger sister training, the sight of which caused my heart to sink with anguish. Matsumota seemed destined to make the same error. Staring into my father's eyes, I finally understood what he meant all those years ago, I have proved my mettle refined like the ore to forge a blade. Yet like a smith, I never once asked myself what it was I would be sacrificing to achieve the end result. I was no longer a boy, no longer a young man in my father and mother’s eyes. But another fool forged in the fires of conflict inheriting the sins of my father.








































Chapter 2 “The dark side of the moon.”
Years passed, two campaigns later as I relaxed within my empire of dirt. I was peering out across the vast expanse of the desert, walking along the edge of the gaped plunge that is the obsidian canyon wearing my metaphorical crown of thorns fit for a liar. The pink sun was rising, it’s soft, inviting glow reaching just beyond the horizon's edge. Most may have heard the orchestra of the birds, succumbing to the dreadful illusion of peace. Yet I heard the rhythmic drums of wars, the distant hoarse singing of steel friction against steel. Dark rumors were reaching my ears days in advance, the local tribes of beastkin uniting, refusing to bend the knee to the changing laws of the land. A hungry, ravenous empire was gorging itself with anything unfortunate to be in its path. Tightening its grip as slowly, I watched our freedoms and future erode away from the tides of “progress.”
I felt a kinship with those “less civilized” folk my empire sought to subjugate. Their free will and untethered nature as a culturally enriched nomadic group fascinated me. So one could imagine the depression setting in when the letter arrived, informing me that the crown demanded my blade once more. Gathering my things, I bid my sister farewell. I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, ruffling that pinkish hair as the bannermen gathered outside of my estate's gate. I remember her tears, yet despite the cherry blossoms being in full bloom that time of year, nothing was truly beautiful that day. Feeling the insatiable need to be strong, serving as her anchor, I would callously march off to war once more. Though deep down inside, I wept, not for my life nor the possibility of death's unforgiving grip. But for the pain war had wrought on our relationship, my lifestyle wounding all those I shared bonds with. Like a fine woven tapestry, we were all interconnected; what disturbs one strand would loosen them all.
Like lambs to the slaughter, our superior organization, resources, wealth, technology, and training proved too much for the uprising. Riding on armored scarabs back, with blade drawn, I would barrel my forces beyond their line. The war machine was stampeding rapidly, carving a deep wound that even the bravest of their generals couldn't cauterize in time. It seemed this would be a quick campaign; unlike my peers, I took little enjoyment in torturing and prolonging this conflict. I wanted to end it swiftly, mercilessly, and with an ounce of humanity still left intact. The taste of war bitter, stomach-churning like rotted meat to the palate. The sea of white dunes painted in crimson, littered in corpses to feed the scavengers who waited on the sidelines. Longing for us to depart so that they may enjoy the bounty of our slaughter. 
Gnoll, Lizardkin, Wulfgar, Goatkin, Giant, Orc, and Ogre alike fell to our blades. The newly formed caster rifles proved a pivotal piece of tech. Even then, staring at the bronze barrel, I could sense what was to inevitably come given enough time. Yet no respite would my weary soul taste, the quick resolution I painted for like fawn does water from the oasis would be denied. My queen wanted to set a new standard, make an example of these foolish primitives who dared to stand valiantly against the winds of change. Riding on beetles back, we traversed the Ashlandian mountains, coming across what my commanding officer mentioned was an encampment. Yet using our spyglass even I could see it was a village filled with women, children, elderly the wounded, and noncombatants. I implored my captain to stand down, pleading that these souls were innocent.
As if that would absolve me of guilt, for ultimately, when my words fell on deafening ears, and the order was given, I paused momentarily. Before joining the assault, cutting down a woman trying to flee the onslaught of death. Till this day I hear their screams, I see their corpses and those I considered brothers descended on the innocents like a pack of wolves. They were leaping for the jugular with but glee and unbridled restraint.  I did nothing; even as I froze, all I could do was watch in horror, with judgemental eyes cast not inward but on the powers that be. My righteous indignation focused on the wrong target, like a fool seeking another to pin it all on. When the dust settled, the ash caking on the corpses those remaining weeks would bring the end of the conflict. Those once free, those spirits I admired from afar broken, forced to carry the yoke of others. I received many medals that day, shook many hands, and was praised for a job all done. 
All the glory, joyous celebration of the Emerald City, and new hunks of metal deafened by those cries. I was turning to booze to silence the screams, unable to face the sins. Instead of finding it easier to drown them out with poison so I could get a few hours rest every night. I returned home not like the prodigal son, the envy of the town, and my family. But as a broken, distraught and destructive man. Peering up at the moon, I felt a kinship with the symbol of my birth year. Not for it’s the luminous glow that penetrated the night and veil of darkness. Rather the craters were darting its surface like the wounds of my soul, and the side forever touched by darkness like my battered heart,































Chapter 3 “Redemption.”
The years rolled by, day in and day out the same routine. Drink myself awake, neglect those around me, drink myself to sleep. I was periodically being called on by my fair queen to squash another rebellion and uprising, birthed within the White Sands borders, as well as beyond. Many more ingenious tribes slaughtered by my hand, their cultures extinguished by the gears of the machine that was the empire’s wars. It seemed for a while that this was the only place left for me in the world, my own dark corner. A job that I was qualified and suited to do. Yet no matter the coin, no matter the fight, no matter the booze. The guilt only grew, the burden becoming heavier with each day as the gaping wound in my heart was left to fester. The infection was running deep, tainting every facet of my life. Even my sister found herself feeding on the negative Chi emulating from her older sibling.
Returning home one day, from a foreign concept, I would see the plumes of darkness barreling to the heavens. The house of my fathers, the life I knew ablaze. As the empire had turned its guns and swords toward that little, I still had left to cling to. The soldiers accompanied me, drawing their blades, as I swiftly usurped their ghost from corporeal shells. I was leaving behind the eviscerated husk of my enemies as a testament of the wrath and anguish growing within. Was this the old one’s punishing me for past transgression? No, the so-called higher beings didn’t care about mortals and their existence. If they did, they would have intervened centuries ago to stem the infection our darker nature can bring if left unchecked. There was no grand plan, no design, no purpose behind the slaughter of my people. Ironic, for the first time, I no longer had to guess what my own victims felt like as I turned their own world into pillars of salt. I could experience it, laughing as I drifted down the narrow road, certain death would find me too.
Fleeing the desert, I found myself within the fungi forest, wandering the maze of giant mushrooms as the sun would settle from sight. The lesser celestial bodies were twinkling in the sky as a cold autumn eve greeted my flesh. Dropping to my knees, I would place the tip of the blade against my abdomen, convinced ending it all was the only way to find peace. Not because I truly wanted to die, but because I wanted to be released from the cries of the damned who haunted my every step. The lack of booze prevents the sound of silence, let alone a muffle from greeting vexed mind. Yet before the tip could plunge itself into my abdominal cavity, the sound of something crying for help reached my ears. Having nothing to live for, I figured why not die in battle instead. At the time, it seemed poetic, perishing as I lived. But the source was not some fair maiden or a lost merchant on the road being harassed by some highwaymen. But a moth, as large as an eagle emitting a soft glow trapped by a carnivorous shroom. Sorrow filled my heart as I cut the creature free; the intelligent insect showering me with needless unmerited praise. The pest was refusing to just float away, instead of following me as I prepared to once more end my bleak existence.
It’s radiant warmth, otherworldly glow, and soothing alien voice placating my demons long enough to speak wisdom. The will of the moon, an ancient spirit of folklore and legend informing me that redemption is never out of grasp. And that if I followed her to her people, they would be able to assist me at a shot at finding acceptance with my devils. Feeling I had nothing to lose, we would head out across the forest before exiting the land I knew as home. Traveling through many foreign sights until stumbling across a pyramid-like structure, tucked deep within a thick, unforgiving jungle. Here moth humanoids greeted me, thanking me for saving and bringing one of their own homes. For many years I would practice my art, fusing it with their own unique style of blade dancing, learning the value of equilibrium between the light and the dark. Edification brings with it a sense of belonging, wholeness, and, most importantly, peace. I dedicated my life to their monk-like ways, studying their ancient tomes and basking in that honorable society. 
From the moment they wake, till they sleep. Each member worked diligently in the craft to further their own from the greatest aristocrat to the lowliest of stations. I have never seen such commendable discipline. Oneness with the universe and their place in it. While I couldn’t undo the damage wrought by my bloodstained hands, I could use the darkness and the light to bring about a better world. Though what constituted a better world, even their Wisemen and medicine women refused to illuminate upon. They were claiming that every soul, no matter how ill, brings forth good Chi to the world. And no matter how holy, brings forth corrupt Chi. That life wasn’t a matter of good or evil, dark versus light. Rather the balance of the dream, and one’s own position within the cosmic order. 


































In a dream, I saw it, dragons returning, an undead horde, my motherland at war, and my dear sister suffering. I thought she was dead, foolishly my presumption leading to abandonment. Sweet, innocent Matsumoto now walking the same vile path I did, her own light being encapsulated by darkness. Bidding my friends farewell, I left, traversing the world before me trying to head home. Maria followed me, the moth I had saved earlier. As she said, we were bound, our souls linked ever since I prevented her digestion. No matter my protest, her will, and stubbornness never waned. Begrudgingly I would accept her request, though secretly I enjoyed her company. I pray that whoever may find this will learn from my mistakes, learn that good and evil are merely constructs we create to classify the world. I could have filled these parchments with stories of success, grand ambitions, and my greatest feat. But I, Aquaria Devante, saw fit not to, for we can learn the most from our stumbling. The fall never matters rather how we get up and what we do once we avert our destructive tendencies.

aquaria 20.gif
aquaria 50.jpg
Aquaria 32.jpg
aquaria 2.jpg
aquaria 25.jpg
aquaria 46.jpg
giphy (6).gif
giphy (5).gif
giphy (4).gif
giphy (4).gif
giphy (4).gif
giphy (4).gif
giphy (4).gif
giphy (4).gif
bottom of page