Appearance: He has a ear length auburn brown hair. Brown hazel eyes. he is rather on the shorter side, at 5'6 167 Cm. His skin is a rather sickly pale. Nothing is wrong with him, he just looks a little unnerving.
Full Name: Salvador JosĂŠ AndrĂŠs Vargas Philip Manuel Juan Felipe DalĂ III
(Please refer to him by his first name)
Salvador was the second-born child of Salvador JosĂŠ AndrĂŠs Vargas Philip Manuel Juan Felipe DalĂ II. He was born into a house of minor nobility, but from the very beginning, he was never favored. All attention and praise went to his sister, Anna Mary Camilla Domingo Jacinto DalĂ, who was born stronger, smarter, and far more magically inclined. Her striking purple eyes only cemented her place as the heirâhis family believed them to be a sign from Siamorphe, the goddess of nobility and divine right.
Salvador, on the other hand, lacked the talents, strength, and magical gifts that made his sister so revered. He was never considered fit to inherit the family name, and this neglect grew into a quiet, festering disdain for her. What made it worse was that Anna never gloated or belittled him. She acted like a calm, gentle saintâalways kind, always loving. That kindness only deepened Salvadorâs resentment. How could he be angry at someone who truly loved him?
When Anna left home to become a knight, Salvador snapped. He couldnât stand the joy on his parentsâ faces as they praised her for gaining such an honorable role. He, meanwhile, had never done much. He often skipped his lessons to sneak away and paint. Painting was his only form of controlâthe only thing he could shape with his own hands, the only world he could command.
Before she left, Anna left a gift in his room: a beautiful portrait of Salvador. His blood boiled. She had never practiced painting, never even shown interest in itâand yet it was better than anything he had ever made.
That night, he locked himself in the familyâs small library, devouring every book he could find. Most were romanticized tales of ancient heroes, noble epics, and poetic tragedies. And in the middle of that literary haze, he made a decision.
He would leave the city. He would become a hero greater than any myth. Greater than his sister. The world would remember his name, not hers.
With his fatherâs old dagger, a few coins, and a bag of black tea, Salvador set offâready to carve his legend into the bones of history. He has no plans to return until the whole world knows who he is.