“I’d rather be called a fool for living loudly than a saint for living miserably.”
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Magic and love have one thing in common // they’re both better when reckless.
Born into House de Rouvray, a minor Ishgardian noble family tied to the Central Highlands and Whitebrim, Silvaire was raised under the weight of martial tradition. The de Rouvrays prided themselves on their lineage of soldiers and Temple Knights, considering sword and spear the only honorable pursuits. Magic was regarded as frivolous unless one possessed exceptional talent, and Silvaire, who preferred to show off with a joke or a wink, was quickly branded the “useless son.”
His father, a decorated veteran scarred by war, ruled the household with discipline and expectation, determined to hammer Silvaire into a knight. His mother, gentler but no less suffocating, urged him toward marriage for the good of the house, reminding him daily of the children he owed their line. Strained by his mother’s guilt and stifled beneath his father’s contempt, Silvaire learned to rebel in the only way he knew—through laughter, charm, and the refusal to take life seriously.
As he came of age, he was pushed toward soldiery, yet Silvaire grew restless. To him, the idea that one must be born to magic seemed ridiculous; could it not be studied, practiced, learned? He dreamed of being more than another faceless knight with a spear. When his family arranged for him to marry a noblewoman he could not stomach, Silvaire finally snapped. In a dramatic act of defiance, he cast off the de Rouvray name and struck out into the world under one of his own choosing: Dudonne—a name he thought suited him far better, a creation of his own freedom.
Traveling beyond Ishgard after the Dragonsong War, Silvaire eventually encountered X’rhun Tia and discovered red magic—a discipline that blended sword and sorcery in flamboyant harmony. To him, it was liberation incarnate: proof that magic could be earned, and life could be lived with flourish. He threw himself into the art with reckless enthusiasm, his every spell accompanied by a dramatic flourish, his every duel a performance.
Though Silvaire lives loudly, he carries a complicated relationship with his past. He loathes his father, pities and resents his mother, and avoids speaking his family name whenever possible. Yet he has never fully shed Ishgard’s shadow; in the city he once fled, whispers of his disgrace still linger. He also harbors an unshakable crush on Jannequinard de Durandaire, the Astrologians’ guildmaster—a man Silvaire idolizes not only for his magical capabilities, but his stunning, lithe build and handsome face.
Now, Silvaire Dudonne strides through life as a boisterous red mage, chest bared and wit sharpened, drinking, dueling, and dazzling wherever he goes. To some he is a fool; to others, a scandal. To himself, he is simply free—free to laugh, to love only men, and to live life as grandly as he pleases, no matter who whispers otherwise.
