Daniel Leto

Life Before

Noah’s parents were always busy while he was growing up. They both worked and often had to take over time. Luckily His grandmother on his mother’s side lived nearby enough to act as emergency babysitter. Noah loved going to her house. It smelled like flowers and she was always teaching him stuff. She did scrap-booking, read to him, taught him to cook , and even got him his very own camera. Then the terrible teens hit and they hit hard. He fell in with the “wrong crowd”. He turned his talents to making fake IDs to get into bars or clubs and hacking the schools computer system to adjust his grades. He began distancing from his family. Going to Granma’s became the epitome of uncool. And the sad fact was that age was catching up with her. Her mind began to weaken and she required care. She was ancient, always tried to make him do chores, and her house smelled like old potpourri. With little supervision from his parents and in misguided attempts to proclaim independence, Noah ditched his responsibilities to hang out with his friends more often than not. And that’s what he did one night; he sat her down in a cushioned chair, gave her one of his old scrapbooks to mumble incoherently over, and snuck out. She was still seated in that chair with scrapbook in hand the next day. Dead eyes stared blankly at the page. The smell of rot mixed with flowers, making him gag. The consequence and guilt of having left her to die alone and forgotten nearly crushed him. The arrangements were made and invitations sent out. His mother gave him one specifically. However, when the day of the funeral arrived, Noah couldn’t face it. He went out to the bars instead to drink away his memories. The Lady of Poignant Comfort found him drunk in an alleyway. He doesn’t really remember what she said clearly. It dealt with slights, crimes, tasks, and understanding but his addled mind couldn’t comprehend. The next thing he knew he was being swept away through the Thorns.

Durance/Keeper

The Lady of Poignant Comfort made Noah stand vigil over the dying. Her realm was a graveyard full of grand mausoleums, beautiful marble headstones, and flowers of remembrance. The Lady would silently bring dying mortals and lay them gently on stone beds. Noah soon found the Lady’s curse compelled him to stay by their side. Not understanding what had happened or what he was supposed to do, Noah grew angry. With only one target to focus his hate at his situation, he turned on the person that lay in pain. He shunned them, yelled at them and in a fit of desperate rage tried to kill them a couple times. They would not die though. Their wounds didn’t heal but neither did they bleed. The long days and solitude eventually exhausted his fury. He talked with them, comforted them, and formed bonds with them. He tried healing them but the mortal cuts would not close. The best he could do was ease the pain a little. More time went by and he learned about their dreams and fear. They told him about their lives and families. Finally, one day they said that they had accepted their fate, and Noah discovered the final part of his curse. He reached out and touched their hand. The task the Lady had set him demanded it. They gave a last shuddering breath and pass on. The Lady would come then and place a hand on his shoulder. Where she placed her hand a black feather would grow. “Remember them,” she’d say “For they have gone to a better life.” Then she’d take away the body, and soon after bring another wounded soul in need of comfort. The process would repeat then, no matter how much he tried to stop it. He’d try to keep their spirits up, he’d explain what would happen if they gave in, he’d ignore them, or he’d try to make them hate him. It all ended the same. Inevitably they all asked for the gift of death and the promise of a better place. And eventually Noah started to believe it as well. It pained him less to think he was ending their pain than to think he was killing them. It was easier that way, though never easy.

Escape

A hand stopped him as he reached to touch another friend and grant them peace. Turning he saw the shining face of an elderly woman. “Don’t. The Lady lies.” Noah didn’t understand as the glorious woman pulled him away into the mists of the graveyard. She shone like the sun, the fog parted before her, and the wings of black feathers he had gained over the years scattered away from her. Noah started to panic; he had a soul to save. “Wait we have to go back,” he screamed. A banshee wail went up through the haze then. The woman stopped short, suddenly afraid. She pulled him up and forced him to look into her eyes when he tried to look back. “Do you remember me?” she asked desperately. He looked at her again. The Light burned to stare at but he remembered. “Granma? You died.” “Yes,” she said, kissing him with relief. “Hold to that.” She turned behind them to where darkness and cloud had started to swirl before looking back to him. She kissed him again. “Run!” she commanded. She turned to face the oncoming darkness, as she pushed him away. Noah fled away into the Hedge with dark feathers swirling around him, as she began to shimmer and burn with white fire. When he emerged back on Earth, he was in front of the tombstone of his grandmother. No matter how much he begged the stone, it would not grant him forgiveness for abandoning her again.

Life After

Noah had been gone in the mortal world a year and a day. His fetch had been dead the whole time. It had died in its sleep the night he’d been taken. His old life was denied him so he set about building a new one. The Winter court welcomed him and he became apprentice to the courtier in charge of crafting fake identities. He wasn’t sure what his durance had meant but he swore to help those that asked to gain new lives. His vow got the better of him though. He ended up setting up the wrong person with a new identity and accidentally helped a suspected Loyalist escape. He had to flee the Freehold, along with his mentor and cut all contact with his life. He ended going to Sacremento under the name Daniel Leto.

Mask He looks to be late teens or early twenties with blonde hair and blue eyes. He has a kind face and an understanding look. When talking with him he is always engaged, nodding and giving indications he’s listening to you. His smiles have a melancholy to them, though.

Mein His eyes and hair turn black beneath the mask. His skin becomes paler, giving him the slight appearance of a marble grave statue. Two stumps with tattered black feathers grow from his shoulder blades. They can be seen pressing at the back of his shirt. The odd feather pokes through holes. His mantle manifests as wisps of fog and mist.