Born into a small tribe in the east Onia was taught into the art of medical magic. Though brought up in a strict way of life, she dreamt of a world of music. She would often mold both her healing magic and music into one. Her songs could heal not only wounds, but hearts. The village she was part of focused mainly of bottling remedies for illnesses to be traded for goods. One day she had traveled along with the buggy that was off on a 4 day ride to trade goods. Day 3 into the trip they were exceptionally parched and had gone off path to rest at the side of a cliff where a waterfall poured into a beautiful pond. Unknown to them there was a cave up on the cliff that housed something they hadn’t expected to face. They were attacked by ogres. Her brother LeFan and a local soldier from the village over were killed. They valiantly fought to save Onia, but they perished and she was left alone. Scared and at a last resort, she tried the only thing she could, her magic. She sang ever so softly with a sincere sorrow in her voice for her fellow comrades. She sang the ogres to sleep and severed their heads out of pure anger and grief. She felt as though she let down her village, her tribe, and herself. She hurried her brother and friend at the base of the cliff and vowed at that moment she wouldn’t be satisfied with healing and potion making. She wanted to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves, those that were close to her. She continued on the journey alone and cold as her heart had slowly stiffened. She returned home with a sad and stale look on her face. The village mourned the death of their citizens for 3 days after that by fasting. During this time Onia had felt nothing but the angered gaze of the citizens and even her own father blaming her for LeFan and Dalrue’s demise. Her father (a skinwalker) at this point had now lost his wife and only son. Onia’s mother died during her birth, she bled very little, in fact it was strange at how little she bled during birth, but she was weak and couldn’t stand the stress. Her heart gave out minutes after Onia was born, LeFan was only 4 at the time. The day after fasting though, Onia joined the soldiers in training. There she stayed for 3 years until she was ready to move on to greater things, so she set out on a journey to find her true nature, and power. Having felt the hating eyes of the people for so long, her heart had grown quite cold. She traveled for nearly 2 more years searching for what she thought she needed, but perhaps she knew not what she needed yet. She still felt empty, being at the age of just 17 at this point in time she settled in a town about 7500 miles west of her village. This town was small, but had a lively charm and a warm feeling, it comforted her to stay there. She frequented a shop run by an older Humanoid that carried types of instruments and music materials, he went by Shen. She would sit at the piano for hours a day and play it slowly, remembering the days of her teachings. This continued for another year as she stayed in the town, eventually working at the music store to earn money to get by. She enjoyed herself during that time and had warmed her heart ever so slightly. This was up until a fatal illness had taken the shop owners life and the store was dismantled and sold off. She was used to such sadness in her life, but she felt a pain still in her heart showing she could still feel. She received a package to her room at the inn a week after the death of her boss and dear friend. It was marked for Onia the Lost One. She opened it to find a note.
We’ve known each other for about 9 months now and I’ve enjoyed having you work with me in my shop. I love hearing you play the piano, it calms me so. I want you to share this gift with others that may need your calming tune and I know I cannot keep you to myself forever, for I do not have much longer to live I’m afraid. Here is a gift that I hope you enjoy, I have friends in a Dwaven village so I sent them this for some modifications I saw fit. Please use it to spread peace throughout the people of this land and many others. Be safe and happy birthday.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she put the note aside for safe keeping. She continued to open the package to find a sort of peculiar thing. It seemed the cross between a piano and a loot or guitar. She named this contraption a guiano, (later being told it was a terrible name by local kids she settled on ‘Keytar’). This was no ordinary instrument though, there were crystals built into the keys and gold strand throughout the woodwork which she resonated with well. She felt her limitations lift when she held it, the tears would to stop pouring from her eyes. Never had anyone given her something so nice and she had no one to thank. After this, she said goodbye to the town of Madrea and set off on her journey now 18 years old.
She knew of the skin walker blood in her and she has been able to adapt her form to that similar to animals, but she showed little interest in this fact for she never saw a reason for it.