Vivienne was born into an old aristocratic family, her bloodline proud and purely human, known for its upstanding ties with the government and the Embrathi way of life under the Loom’s warm embrace. Her parents, Elion and Annallee, were paragons of their class—dignified, well-spoken, and completely devoted to maintaining their image amongst their social peers. When Annallee birthed the first of her twins, it was a celebratory time for everyone! A perfect, healthy baby girl with the purest potential for Loom magic to weave itself neatly into her mind. A few minutes later, the second child was born. Another beautiful baby girl, but this one wasn’t so healthy… The joy quickly soured when the Siphon midwife informed her parents that she was a Deviant, a shifter…that she would be destined for a short life, even with the help of the Loom’s miracle Treatment. For her parents, who prided themselves on the joining of two families of such purity, the realization of their daughter’s affliction was heartbreaking…and slightly humiliating, even if they tried not to admit it. Vivienne’s childhood was defined by contradictions: luxury and illness, affection and shame. She lived in a room decorated with art and silks, but every breath was watched—measured and medicated. Her father ensured that she received only the best tutors for additional schooling, healers when she so much as scraped her knee, and immediate spiritual guidance any time she even poked at the question of what animals lie beneath her so many years of the Treatment. None of it felt freely given, however, always holding an undertone of obligation. Over the years, she started believing that her continued survival wasn’t actually her right, but more of a debt to her family for being born with this illness that poisoned both her body and her family’s image. The whispers of servants, the poorly hidden pity of guests, the quiet resignation of her mother…it all built a single conviction within her—she was unworthy. The only person who didn’t treat Vivienne as something other was her sister. Ayda refused to treat Vivienne as anything less than her equal and best friend, knowing that nothing about her suppressed magic changed who she was. The two girls shared secrets, dreams, and the comforting illusion that they were completely alike. But as they grew older, as parental and social influences pressed harder on them both, those illusions became harder and harder to maintain. Ayda’s beauty and charm allowed her to follow in her mother’s footsteps, becoming an icon in high society. She would flit around the ballroom, participate in engaging conversations with strangers, command the room with her spine straight and a dazzling smile…while Vivienne kept her back to the wall, her eyes moving but her mouth still. She always watched, but she was rarely seen. Her education was her sanctuary, and while she always earned tops marks in her classes, her lack of care and motivation made the knowledge itself temporary, making each year more difficult than the last. When she was sixteen, her mandatory schooling came to its conclusion. She became listless and frustrated, not able to find anything worthwhile to fill her time. Vivienne continued to learn alongside Ayda, as she was taught to master poetry composition and recitation, as well as multiple instruments—including violin, harpsichord, and flute. Although Vivienne was capable of learning them, and continued to do so for her mother's sake, she hated that she just kept feeling less and less like herself. Her art tutor, one day, told her to put down the paintbrush and asked her what she really wanted. She didn't have an answer because what kind of question was that? A heart-to-heart conversation—possibly the first one someone had ever really had with her—led her away from the arts and into combat training, giving her an outlet for her bottled up frustrations and allowing her to finally find something she was actually good at. When Vivienne turned eighteen, her mother informed her that she was to be betrothed. The shock and outrage that consumed her in that instant was more than she knew she could feel. Ayda wasn't required to marry yet because she had a whole life ahead of her, as opposed to Vivienne who was already halfway through hers. She felt sick to her stomach, and after a days-long argument with both of her parents, she finally conceded and agreed to meet the gentleman. She didn't even ask what his name was. It wouldn't matter anyway, as she had no plans to ever meet him. That night, she packed up her things and left. After staying with a friend for a couple days, she moved into a small house on the border of Outer Embrathis and the farmlands. In addition to giving up her life of luxury, Vivienne gave up her name and took the surname Fray, describing the separation she felt from her family tapestry and the future she envisioned for herself. She survived mostly on the Embrathi stipend, while working odd jobs to make a little extra spending money on the side. One day, on a trek near the base of the Marrows, she accidentally became the prey of a pack of sabredogs. Thanks to a pair of local Outriders, she escaped the encounter with no grievous injuries beyond a healthy dose of caution around the mountains and a new respect for the guild of elite riders. They still brought her back to the headquarters to get herself healed for what minor injuries she did receive, and while she was told to wait for the resident healer, she wandered into the stables where the dire horses were housed. Many of the horses didn't care about her presence any more than simply acknowledging it, but a young stallion's perked ears and outstretched nose drew her in. Her connection with him was only confirmed with the first touch of her hand to his velvety nose and then solidified when she was permitted to get on his back. Vivienne and Ember became inseparable that day, and she spent every moment she could with him. Her regular weapon training became more focused on mounted combat, as horseback riding was something her aristocratic education already made her quite skillful, but she continued improving, preferring to reliably ride Ember with as minimal tack as possible. When she was twenty-three, a drunken celebration with her comrades pried her tight lips open, and she quietly confessed to a friend the story of how she actually got to where she was. All of it, from her aristocrat family to the unfulfilled betrothal to the frustrating heartbreak of her magic. A couple weeks later, that same friend convinced her to give up the Treatment and embrace her true magic. The detox itself was one of the hardest things she'd ever gone through, but she made it out the other side and swore never to have to do it again. Her friend tried to convince her to join the Unwound's fight against the Loom, and while she understood in her heart that the Treatment was against the best wishes of the Organic population, she couldn't bring herself to end one extreme side of loyalty shoved into her head her entire life only to begin another for the other side. While her morals were more aligned with the freedom-fighting Unwound, she pledged her loyalty to them as an outsider. She would lend aid when she was needed, but she didn't consider herself to genuinely be one of them. She'd already found the fight she wanted, and it didn't come in the shadows, but on horseback.