NAME: Lyric, She Who Calls the Tides
PRONOUNS: She/Her
MAGE CLASS: Hydromancer — Keeper of Flow and Restoration
LINEAGE: Elemental → Faerie
SUBTYPE: Wildkeepers → Beastmaster
ERA PLACEMENT: Era I — Post-Rift Awakening, ca. 2195–2235
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There are names the sea forgets, and names it carries forever. Lyric was one the ocean never let go.

Born of storm-fractured moonlight and the bloom of coral tides, Lyric emerged from the Faewaters of the shattered Narellan Reef during the late hours of the Rift Awakening. Her arrival was marked not by sound, but by stillness — a hush so deep that leviathans ceased their passage and seafoam hung mid-air. She was not born from flesh, but from oath and overflow — a Faerie forged by the Elemental memory of healing rains, broken trusts, and ancient pacts.

Though small in form and bright in eye, Lyric bore the gravity of generations. Her Hydromancy was not taught — it was remembered, as if the sea itself whispered to her veins. She could mend coral with a breath, slow the bleeding of a soldier with a touch, and call freshwater from salt. But power, for Lyric, was never enough. She did not just wish to heal — she wished to bind. To preserve. To never lose again what she once had, or might still one day love.

To this end, she bonded with a living relic: Ariqon, an antlered tidebeast long thought extinct. Found wounded in a trench far beneath the drowned ruins of Kal’Soriir, Ariqon was saved not just by her skill — but by her promise. The bond they formed defied ordinary Wildkeeper pacts; it became legend. She rode the beast across sunken battlegrounds, ferrying the lost and broken to safety, or rising in wrath when those she healed were harmed again.

But her gifts came with weight. Lyric’s flaw was not inaction — but attachment. Every wound she healed left an imprint; every loss scarred her psyche. Her growing obsession with preservation became dangerous. When a relic smuggler’s attack left a sanctuary in ruins, she nearly drowned him in his own blood, sealing his lungs with pressurized tide until even her companions pulled away in fear.

Though hailed as a savior by many, others whispered of her growing possessiveness — that to be healed by Lyric was to be owned by her grief, to live under the weight of being irreplaceable.

She vanished not long after the Tidefall Accord, where she famously turned down a Circle seat in the Wildkeeper Conclave. Some say she dissolved into the ocean itself, choosing elemental reversion. Others say she still roams the shattered reefs, riding Ariqon between dusk and storm, searching for the next life she might bind — or break — in the name of love.

One thing remains:
When rivers run backwards, when tides weep without moon or cause, when wounds close without pain — her name is heard on the salt wind.

Lyric, She Who Calls the Tides.
Not born to lead, nor follow — but to hold.