Mahlevola Argon'atsu

Mahlevola Argon’atsu, youngest daughter of Zumaridi Argon’atsu III and Queen Sethenya, was born beneath a rare celestial event—the Veil of Two Suns, when the heavens split the sky in gold and silver, an omen of duality, of light and shadow entwined. From the moment she took her first breath, the shamans whispered that her soul was unlike any other—neither bound by ambition nor tainted by the hunger for power that defined so many of her kin.

She was not a warrior like Acrimonious.
She was not a seductress like Rancora.
She was not a manipulator like Nefaria.

Mahlevola was mercy incarnate, a being touched by something divine, something beyond even the gods of Evernia. While her brothers and sisters carved their marks into history with strength, magic, and deception, she walked the path of the forsaken, the suffering, and the lost.

The Mercy of the Reaper’s Touch

Mahlevola’s gift, known as Ahn’seret, or The Hand of Release, was a power both feared and revered. She was born with the ability to sense the suffering of those trapped between life and death, those who clung to their mortal shells despite unbearable pain, their souls unwilling—or unable—to pass beyond the veil.

She was not a healer, nor was she an executioner. She was something in between—a sacred usher, a Saint of the Dying, a guide who led souls gently from the agony of the physical world into the embrace of the beyond.

With a single touch, she could ease the pain of the suffering, severing the thread between body and soul with a grace that no blade or poison could offer. The dying did not fear her; they welcomed her, reached for her as a drowning man reaches for the surface. Her presence was not death—it was peace, it was release, it was an end free of suffering.

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The Sanctuary of the Forsaken

As a child, Mahlevola would wander through the halls of Adyntia’s grand temples, drawn not to the altars of power, but to the hidden corners where the sick and abandoned were left to waste away. She would sit with the dying, whispering prayers that only the dead could hear, her hands brushing across their foreheads as she gently led them beyond the threshold of suffering.

By the time she was a woman grown, the people of Adyntia called her Seret-Anah, The Soulkeeper of the Sands. Her name became a prayer on the lips of the ailing, the wounded, the hopeless. She did not discriminate—whether noble or beggar, criminal or saint, all who suffered were equal in her eyes.

She established The House of Silent Stars, a grand hospice built on the outskirts of the city, where the dying were brought not to be cured, but to be comforted, to be prepared for the journey beyond. Here, she and her acolytes practiced the Rite of the Last Breath, a sacred ritual in which she would kneel before the afflicted, place her hands upon their chest, and draw forth their spirit in a final act of mercy.

The House of Silent Stars became a place untouched by war, where even the enemies of Adyntia were granted peace in their final hours. Soldiers, scholars, and even rulers traveled across the sands to meet the Saint of the Dying, hoping to receive her touch before the darkness claimed them.

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A Soul Unshaken by Power

Despite her noble blood, Mahlevola rejected the trappings of royalty. She refused luxury, dressed in simple robes of soft ivory, and adorned herself only with the Veil of the Departed—a silken shroud woven from threads of Nehekhara, gifted to her by her mother Khesinari, which allowed her to hear the voices of the dead who still lingered, afraid to leave the world behind.

Many of her siblings viewed her with fascination, others with unease. Nefarious, in particular, despised her presence, for he found in her something he could not corrupt. Her power was not one of manipulation, nor of deception, and for that, he saw her as an enigma—untouchable, unyielding. Where others might be swayed by lust, greed, or ambition, Mahlevola wanted nothing except to ease the suffering of others.

Even Rancora, for all her pride, admitted that Mahlevola was the only woman who had never wanted something from another.

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A Moment with the Dragon King

One of the most infamous stories of Mahlevola’s life was her meeting with her father, Zumaridi Argon’atsu III, in the twilight of his reign. The great Mostereem, the man who had conquered empires and bent the world to his will, had grown old. Though he was still powerful, time had begun to take its toll—his once-mighty frame bore the weight of age, and his draconic blood could no longer keep his mortality at bay.

Sensing the end approaching, he summoned Mahlevola to his chambers, where she found him seated before an altar of obsidian, staring into the flame of an oil lamp.

"Tell me, child," he said, his voice weary but strong, "do you see my end?"

Mahlevola knelt before him, placing her hands upon his, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The whispers of the dead surrounded her, their voices carrying the weight of eternity.

"Not yet, Father," she whispered. "But soon."

The Mostereem regarded her for a long time before nodding. He did not ask for her to save him. He did not ask for her to delay his fate. He simply accepted what he had always known—that death, even for kings, was inevitable.

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A Legacy of Peace

Mahlevola never married, never bore children, never sought a throne. Yet, her name became eternal. Where others ruled through conquest, through seduction, through bloodshed, she ruled through compassion.

When she finally passed, it was said that the stars above Adyntia dimmed, as if mourning her absence. Her body was laid to rest beneath the Pillars of the Silent Stars, a place where the wind carried whispers of the departed, where the dying still traveled, hoping to touch the earth where she had once walked.

And though she was gone, her voice remained.

For every time a dying soul whispered a prayer in the darkness, hoping for an end free of pain—

It was her name they spoke.

It was her hands they felt.

And it was Mahlevola Argon'atsu, the Saint of the Dying, who answered.