Library of Characters: Lucy Peterson

Welcome to another round of chaotic characters!

I’m Lucy, a young author, could-be-Narnian, and creator of—to quote a friend—“poor” characters. And the host of this event.

Today I’ve brought with me a character that was supposed to only appear in a scene or two, but somehow worked his way up into a small POV spot.

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Introduce your side character to me—who is he? What story is he from? 

This is Siridean Deh’entor from my WIP fantasy trilogy, The Seven Countries. 

What is his personality?

He is very calm and level-headed, and tends to hide his emotions, even from himself. 

What gave/gives you inspiration for him?

Um… so many things have given me inspiration for him that I’ve forgotten most of them. 😂 I originally wanted him to be the mysterious, wandering type, and he’s taken that to more than the extremes. 

Was he supposed to be in the story, or was he a sudden I-have-no-idea-how-you-got-here addition?

Siridean was most definitely not supposed to be in this series in the beginning. But a sudden plot change led to him springing up out of nowhere, and now he’s even pushed his way into getting a few POV chapters.

What is his role in the story? 

[SPOILER] [SPOILER] And he’s sort of just a steady figure for the MCs to lean on. 

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“What did the grass ever do to you?” A soft voice chuckled behind her. 

Jasira jumped, scrambling to her feet and whirling around. 

A tall man leaned casually against a tall stone pillar, watching her with eyes such a pale blue it made her shiver. 

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What is his past and how has it shaped the character he is now? 

Siridean came from a rather poor family, but that didn’t stop him and his older brother from getting into all sorts of mischief in the richer parts of their homeland. Their father had died in battle, and his warrior spirit was carried on to his two sons, as Siridean and his brother both worked their way up into positions of extreme power. But all-too soon, strange questions began to haunt Siridean’s steps. They bothered him until he got himself temporarily outlawed from his land in an attempt to find the answers.

What is his greatest struggle or fear?

His greatest struggle is discerning the truth and separating it from centuries of lies. He has huge questions that gnaw at him and won’t give him peace until he finds the answers. But he doesn’t know where to look to gain those answers. 

Is he a vice or virtue to the protagonist?

Let’s just say… not even the protagonists can figure that out.

Does he like his name, or would he trade anything in the world for a new one?

He likes his first name. As for his last name… he would be more likely to trade anything in the world to make others acknowledge him as such again. 

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“A place…” Siridean paused, “far, far from here.” He turned his head to her, opening his eyes. “A place that forever tugs at my heart, yet pushes me away.”

Jasira tilted her head, both enchanted and confused by his strange words.

“I have not been there in many a year. I miss the stars most of all.” Siridean motioned to the heavy, lightless night sky above them. “The stars of my homeland are brighter there than anywhere else. They have such wonder to them. Such glorious, silent majesty. My brother and I used to lay awake in the height of the night, gazing at them and competing to see who would see the first one fall.” He sighed, growing quiet.

“You have a brother?” Jasira asked, leaning her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands. It was strange to think of the man with a family. He seemed like someone who had just sprung out of the ground. Like he had always been there, alone and nomadic, and forever would remain the same.

Siridean sighed again, sitting up. “Yes. An older.” He stared off into the distance, his eyes glazing over in the firelight. “We were close… once. But he and I have moved our separate ways.”

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Character Appearance: Hair? Eyes? Height? Favorite color and least favorite food? Other?

He has pale, straw-colored hair, icy blue eyes, and is extremely tall. His favorite color is gray and he hates  any sort of sweetened anything. 

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Memories rushed through his mind, polished into clarity by the scene around him.

Two young brothers, chasing each other around the raised stones, their laughter echoing through the small space and up into the bright blue sky. 

Two boys—both no longer children, but not yet men—facing each other with raised swords, the fountain in between, dueling in mock battles to hone their quickly-growing skills. 

Young men, as alike yet different as two brothers could be, seeking someplace quiet and alone. The gentle bubbling water, glistening in the moonlight, the one solace after the death of their beloved mother.

Shocked brothers, staring at each other as they tried to believe that they both had been chosen for such high positions. Leaning against the fountain’s cool sides as they congratulated each other and dreamed of the future. 

And then… a single young man. The younger brother, barely daring to even call himself such anymore. Visiting the quiet space for what could be the last time, his heart tearing out of his chest as he stared down at his broken reflection in the water. The rippling face staring back and accusing him, naming him traitor and outcast, condemning him just like everyone else in his country.