Taeron

Name: Taeron
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Age: 28
Hair: Black, cropped to one side
Skin: Light and Fair
Wings: Black with Feathers

History:
Taeron grew up in an elvish settlement within the caves in mountains hidden by dense forestation. He grew up with his Uncle and Aunt, instead of his parents for a reason he was never told. His cousins liked him plenty, though, and they seemed to get along well. For what it seemed, it was a pretty good life.

Taeron had always been curious though, not to the point of wandering off into the dangerous wilderness that his people hid away from, but academically. He was more interested in history, and literature. That was one of the reasons why he poured himself over the books of the culture of his race, and the mysticism that came with being an elf.

At a certain age, Taeron learned how to be nimble, hide himself, and taught to be an expert at ranged combat. That was the distance to fight the predators after all. Once they got close it'd be game over - part of the reason why his people hid in caves.

When he was in his late teens he left his people to make his way toward the nearest city determined to find his way as a mage, hoping also to somehow find his parents. It was there where he'd learn a special kind of magic. He'd use engraved runes and circles to enchant his own body, warp and change it various ways to complete his objectives, or fight. He also had an above-average practice in potions.

Years later though, one experiment would permanently change his body - mutating him. He was uncertain of what the change meant. He grew black wings from his back painfully over the course of the night - a metamorphosis. From then on they were a permanent part of his body like any other, and got quite annoying after a while, as they were very hard to manage. Various side effects have taken hold too, and some of which he has found...but many others remain a mystery. Not all of them may be beneficial...