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Seraphina Alazario is the spitting image of Chelaxian's man dream woman. Standing tall at 5’10, her fit and healthy frame stands out in a crowd, so she usually keeps it covered to avoid doing so. Her pale skin contrasts with her full dark black hair that falls past her shoulders and halfway down her arms. Her icy-blue eyes are piercing and distract from the otherwise soft and gentle skin of the woman. In her mid-twenties, her figure is slender but full with voluptuous curves on all parts of her body that looks every part of a Chelaxian diva.

When she performs she is garbed in an elegant gown and covered with flashy jewelry and makeup, but those days are few and far between now. These days she typically tries to hide behind a hooded cloak and obscure as much of her visage as possible.

Most of Golarion’s citizens live an ordinary life in their towns or villages, free from the complications that arise when one involves themselves with untold powers of magic. For those select few that are born with the power or spend years learning their power, they grow to appreciate how special it is and what amazing things it enables them to do in their lives. In a lot of ways it is similar to stardom that celebrities receive. One moment you are normal, the next everyone wants to buy you gifts, kiss your hand and whisk you away to expensive retreats in palaces and extravagant lands. If you can understand how easy it would be to get wrapped up in it all, then perhaps you would find sympathy in the tale of Seraphina Alazario.

The eighth child of a miller and midwife, Seraphina found herself a member of a poor family in Westcrown’s Parego Dosper district. Her parents barely scraped up enough coin to get by, and she found herself only six years old when they put her to work with her siblings doing odds and ends to make a copper or two. For twelve years this continued, later finding work at the temple assisting the followers of various faiths as best she could.

Often she would secret away a few coppers now and again so that she could save up enough to bribe one of the ushers at the theater to allow her to sneak in and hide under a chair, behind a curtain or in a crate. Somewhere that would allow her to watch the performances and hear the beautiful voices that filled the building. She knew that could never be her however, her voice cracked and grated something terrible when she tried to hold a note for a second. Her mother had even told her to stop singing and never open her mouth ever again on more than one occasion.

This was the life she was born into and while she often dreamed of stardom, she never thought it would happen. That is, until Seraphina found herself assisting a priestess of Sarenrae late one evening. That evening as it turns out, would be the last of her first life.

A strange elderly woman had been brought into the temple, raving and speaking in strange tongues that Seraphina had never heard. She had caused quite a stir in the temple and a half-dozen acolytes were furiously fighting over who would address the woman’s needs, claiming she was cursed. She switched languages while she spoke, never speaking more than three words in the same tongue before abruptly changing to another odd sounding language.

Having been trained by the temple in treating wounds, Seraphina knew how to change the dressing on the woman’s head wound and volunteered to do it when one one else would. Satisfied the woman was now being attended to and had quieted down, the room emptied save Seraphina and the strange woman.

While finishing up the new bandage, the woman’s eyelids flew open and her hand flashed out and grabbed Serphina’s wrist. Turning her head to face the poor girl, she saw that the old woman’s eyes were a cloudy white with no visible iris. Her voice cracked when she spoke, some hidden pain from deep within.

While holding her arm tightly, she started speaking in the common tongue. She asked “Be not afraid, child. My time has come and I must go, but I must pass my gift on to another before I do so. Long have I searched for an innocent soul to bestow these power, long have I failed to find one. You will be able to heal the wounded, care after the sick and right the wrongs of the evil men of this land. The power of the Gods flows through me and they have chosen you, child. Are you ready?.”

”Ready for what? I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Let me go find-” grasping her forearm even tighter, the woman looked into Seraphina’s eyes and said ”Beware the curse that comes with these gifts, child! Use them not for yourself, only to save the lives of those in need! Should you fail to heed this calling, the bindings to keep all that have come before you will be shattered and your vessel will no longer be your own! Help them all, child! Save them all!”

The old woman was hysterical now, holding her arm so tightly that the blood wasn’t flowing to her wrist. Seraphina tried to yank her arm away, but the woman’s grip was amazingly strong. ”Curse?! What curse?! What gifts? Heal who? I don’t understand! You’re hurting me! Let me go!”

The woman’s eyes flared an ice blue and she began to speak in a strange tongue again, only this time, somehow, she understood it. It sounded almost angelic, such soft and elegant harmonies. A blue something, she didn’t know what to call it, flowed out of the woman's body through her eyes and soaked inside Seraphani’s own eyes. It coursed through her body and she started screaming as the woman released her, allowing her to fall to her knees.

A loud shrill sound echoed in her head over and over, laced with the woman’s words ”Not for yourself! Save them all!”

She awoke laying on the same bed the old woman had been laying on sometime before. As she rose from the bed, she found a bandage wrapped around her head the same as had been wrapped around the old woman’s head. The priestess who was standing before her denied ever seeing an old woman patient, claiming only that Seraphina had slipped and hit her head on the floor earlier and that she had been talking to them in a strange tongue.

Leaving the temple quickly, Seraphina ran home only to find that she had been gone for several days. As her family fussed over her, she realized that inside she felt … different. Her body no longer felt like her own and she had a constant state of feeling like there was always someone watching her. Like there was always someone in the room with her looking over her shoulder or whispering in her ear.

Most importantly however, there was a warmth that yearned to be released from within her, a strange power she did not understand. For a week she struggled with this strange feeling until she reached out and healed an injured man on the street, his wounds closing upon her touch of his shoulder. She quickly sought out another injured person, only to be met with a similar result.

Visiting the temple again, she found she was able to cure all manner of wounded men and women much like the clerics did. But she was not ordained, she had no formal training nor did she pray to any god? How could this be? She heard voices sometimes that tried to talk to her, but she pushed them away. She found the more time she spent healing the pains of others, the less the voices talked to her.

Over the next two years, she spent day and night finding those in need that needed healing and doing whatever she could to ease their pain and make their lives better. The voice from the old woman haunting her to use her gifts to help others all but disappearing entirely. It made sense now, she had given her the power to heal! This amazing gift made her feel wonderful and she had never felt so important and so useful than she did at this moment in time. Looking back, those days helping others were hands down the best months of her life.

For her twentieth nameday, her family had saved up enough coin to take her to the theater. Overwhelmed with this gift, she spent hours fussing with her hair and clothing in order to look the best she possibly could. Countless times she had sat under a chair in a theater, never once sitting in one properly.

The show was amazing and everything she had always wanted it to be. As she was leaving the theater, she began to sing one of the songs from the performance loudly to herself when the manager of the theater caught wind of her song. Pulling her aside, he told her of her amazing voice and demanded she return tomorrow to audition for him. So she did just that, and her world turned upside yet again.

The next few weeks happened quickly. A quick rise to stardom had her performing as the lead role in the following month’s performance. Seraphina Alazario’s voice was often referred to as heavenly and she was quickly dubbed ‘Angel’ by her manager. As he paraded “his angel” around Westcrown, the nobility began requesting private shows.

As she began to spend more and more time singing and becoming an icon, she began to spend less and less time helping those in need. At first she would just get headaches, but soon her headaches began to turn into actual voices in her head and she found she was talking to herself trying to hush the voices. Eventually she found that she began talking to herself in celestial. Nothing quite says crazy like talking to yourself in celestial, well almost nothing that is.

Four years into her stardom she hit rock bottom. During a performance one night, the old woman’s voice from years ago spoke inside of her head. I warned you, Seraphina. I told you to not focus on yourself. Help others, not yourself I clearly said. I’m sorry, but I cannot keep the others at bay any longer. The barrier has been broken.

Seraphina’s psyche imploded as a thousand different voices all started screaming at her inside her head. Unable to tell what was happening outside of her head, she stopped mid-song and collapsed to the stage, holding her hands to her head and rolling around on the floor. She frantically looked about as everyone came to comfort her as the curtains came crashing closed in front of her. The crowd roared in applause, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen their star, thinking this was some wild unpredictable element of the show.

As everyone crowded around her, they spoke to her in a language she didn’t understand. She tried to speak to them, but quickly found out her words would only come out of her mouth as celestial. It didn’t matter what language she spoke or heard however, all she could hear was them. Unable to speak the common tongue, her mind full of a thousand voices, she panicked and climbed to her feet, fleeing the theater in tears, screaming in celestial.

Seraphina eventually figured out what had happened, having had numerous conversations with others of her power inside of her own mind in the days that followed. They explained her selfishness had broken the barrier that had kept her psyche separated from theirs. Their souls, the chosen oracles that had come before her, now intertwined with her own for eternity. She was bound to suffer their constant voices for the rest of her days.

Thus at the height of stardom, the sensational Angel of Cheliax disappeared, never to be heard from again. Fleeing Westcrown, she made her way to Kintago and found a job helping in the temple there. During these days she discovered a new gift that previously had not been bestowed upon her. She could link her life to anothers, taking their pain and wounds upon her own. This too quieted the voices in her head for a while, seemingly satiating the relentless beast that spoke to her unheard to others.

She tried to always keep herself covered as much as possible, staying out of the public’s eye for fear of being recognized. But it was only a matter of time before someone recognized the Angel.