Name: Morrow Endelen

Gender: Male

Reservation Number: 9

Age: 20, 10 during war.

Appearance: Morrow's hair is in dire need of something to calm it down. It sticks up in the back, the front, both sides, and in the worst places- like behind the ears. It is dark, yet the strands lighten to a dull grey in sunlight. The deep irises of his eyes resemble the depths of an ocean, almost appearing black in color. They're unlike an ocean, however, for they are still and never active like a brewing storm. His nose and lips are in constant battle to see which is bigger. The nose is actually a bit larger, because the stubble around his mouth makes it seem larger than it is. With cold hands, soft hands, worrying hands, there becomes a rushed, anxious look to Morrow. His shoulders are broad, like any man's, but slouching leads to an incorrect alignment of his spine. These aching bones don't stop there, but in his knees, which wobble under his weight after hours of simply standing.

Personality: Morrow Endelen, scared and frail, is like wind. He flees from danger and seeks a different place, unable to control his fearful urges. There is a desire to stay and battle whatever the issue is, but he just can't. It's all in his head; he struggles with weakness constantly. This submission in life leads to a misery of shame. Despite his quiet nature, he is gifted with conversation and language, always knowing what to say and when to say it. There's peace when there is no action with him, loving the ethereal quality of a passing wind.

Where in Castre they lived/are from: He is from Milvake. His young age, prior to the war, caused him to travel less than most, but he spent many days at sea with his father.

Background: Morrow loved his father. However, he doesn't remember the man or even the antics the two shared between father and son. Morrow wasn't too young, but young enough to block out the tragedy of his father's death. The only things remembered are the color of his father's eyes- the same, deep blue- and the fact he was a fisherman. Morrow had accompanied his family on the fishing trips, before his magical ability was realized. He had learned many things from Mathas at a very young age, learning even more on the run, after the war began. Morrow remembers the "I love you"s from his father, and the "Pay attention"s from Mathas. Morrow doesn't care for the man, too much.

Magic: Air Mage

Weapon they would use if necessary: He doesn't know anything, but his powers. He'd probably grab something near and use it, if the situation grew tiresome.

Greatest Fear: His greatest fear is remembering. In the exact degree, he fears forgetting. Whether it is past, present, or future, he is content with the fog of his mind.

Deepest Secret: Morrow had a brother. Though, he doesn't know what happened to him.

Strengths: He can talk for hours, able to hold a conversation. He has fast reflexes and the ability to foresee when someone is coming, just by sounds and the atmosphere. He flies when running, letting the wind carry the soles of his feet.

Weaknesses: He has no physical strength, with no want to change the fact. His training with Mathas was quick and secretive, because he and his group were always on the run. Therefore, his skill with the air is medium at best. When in a fight, he'll defer to someone else and ask for immediate help; he cannot fight alone.

Family Members: None currently alive.

Favorite Mythical Creature: It's what they call, simply, a "Cirrus". What people believe to be a layer of the clouds, is a calm creature. The Cirrus never moves, nor does it open its eyes, but it merely stays, with no care to travel.

Vaxon Asherex: "Bah! I have always considered Air Mages to be the weakest among the others. Non-fighters most of you, with a weak magic that is borderline useless. You won't get very far."

Kyren Asherex: "Hmm. I think I'm going to call you Air-Head. You won't be much of a fight, but, it'll be interesting to face up against an Air Mage for once."

Vassti Asherex: "You are quite the handsome one, aren't you? You may not be a fighter, but perhaps you could use your brains and skills as a charmer to decieve and trick your way around the other Magi. I have high hopes for you."

Nassia Asherex: "Ooh, you are gorgeous! I won't mind having you around the palace! So I hope you live. Also, Cirrus' sound so beautiful!"

Jahad Asherex: "Even though you are not a fighter, do not doubt yourself or your abilities. You still have powerful magic as an ally, and perhaps with your abilities to talk and hold conversation, you can gain many allies. In working together, perhaps you and the other Magi have a chance."