Aristheus

Arcane Tome Apparel A durable leather tome filled with ancient knowledge of the Arcane Flight. 1000 Aristheus Khepri devoted | anxious | cautious Arcane Runestone Dragonmade An ancient stone bearing the ancestral rune of the Arcanist. Such a find should be kept as a prized possession. 110 » The Exalt Expert » he/him » ♫ Theme Enchanting Goblin Familiar The eyes of the Arcanist. (Starfall Celebration Holiday Familiar 2016.) 0 » The Altar » lawful neutral » ♥ Amadeus

Aristheus was born and raised in an ancient Arcane lair, with devotion to the Arcanist coursing through his veins. His parents Voq and Ayva were Imperials, and both of their parents were Imperials, so it should make sense that Aristheus was also born an Imperial. The massive youngster trained in the art of Exaltation: the preparation, the incantation to send a soul to the deity, the action itself, and the meaning behind it - the ramifications for those left behind in the lower plane of existence.

Becoming a master of the art meant that Aristheus himself could never achieve the honor of being exalted himself, but with the focus and devotion characteristic of an Imperial, he perfected his craft. The ability to send faithful servants to aid the Arcanist was everything to Aristheus, and it was time to spread his gift to another Arcane clan, thus he searched the Starfall Isles for a new home.

The landscape was irradiated with magic. Floating islands littered the sky, meteors often rained down, native life were magically inclined, and every feature of the landscape curled towards the great Arcanist's Observatory - an absolutely beautiful sight for any proud Arcane child. Though he felt perfectly at home in his deity's region, nothing could have prepared him for what strong magic he would face at his first stop in the Starwood Strand. That night, he bedded down in the Strand, embraced by its infinite universe. Famously, the trees would blossom millions of flowers at night, resembling the night sky, and among this, Aristheus fell asleep.

He suddenly awoke to find himself bound. By the moonlight and the Strand's bioluminescent flowers, he could see dozens of tiny creatures crawling all over his body. They were the dragons truly native to the region; the Fae dragons which resided here descended from long lineages which could be traced back to the beginning of dragonkind. This type of dragon was famous for their acute adeptness and sensitivity to magic, moreso than all other dragons, and these in particular were binding Aristheus' body with magic channeled so thick it was glowing visibly.

"What on Sornieth?" Aristheus asked as he began to writhe, his large serpentine body actually severing the magic strands, much to his surprise. The Fae dragons were knocked around clumsily as the Imperial struggled to rise, but suddenly he was struck with a magical slash of focused mana. He began to be battered by the Fae dragons who were all quick-casting magic at him - though his Arcane body resisted most of the damage. "Why are you attacking me?!" Aristheus hollered as he finally got to his feet and began to run through the Strand.

His fight-or-flight response was apparently flight as he ran for ages, until it became apparent that the Fae dragons weren't following him. Aristheus didn't sleep any more that night, and instead, walked the irradiated land aimlessly, unbeknownst to him that his body was slowly being warped by the lingering magic brought on him by his attackers. As he covered the distance of the Strand, his body quickly began to shrink, and became weak to the lack of nourishment. By the time he reached the water's edge, he was less than a meter long. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, sending the flowers of the Strand back into hiding, Aristheus looked at his reflection in the water, and it became very clear that he was not the dragon he used to be.

He promptly freaked out, launching himself out above the water, and hovering there to see the full view of himself. The small but long frail frame adorned by fin-like crests and held afloat by large wings was unmistakably that of a Fae - but the extra set of small wings and horned, flat crest which now sat atop his head was in His image... Was this new form a blessing or a curse?

He threw himself back onto land and cried. Normally a Fae wouldn't be capable of expressing emotions, but the fact that he was not naturally born one allowed him to retain the expressiveness known to all other dragons. After a while, he gathered himself, calming down and deciding that this was indeed a blessing - to be none other than a native Fae, capable of powerfully harnessing Arcane magic, all in the Arcanist's image, no less. With that, he regained his resolve to carry out his duty as some clan's Exalt Expert, and vowed that, with his new appearance, "the Arcanist" would be the last thing exaltees in the mortal world would see.

Aristheus woke in a cold sweat. He had yet another dream about his transformation from the largest dragon species to the smallest. He anxiously rubbed his head, put his glasses on, and sprung towards his desk. Paperwork was more important than sleeping, after all, and this clan he had joined was in serious need of reformation. He opened his logbook and robotically checked it against the receipts that the clan accumulated from the crossroads, but in the back of his mind he recalled how he ended up here.

It had been less than a month since he left his birth home, quickly transforming then joining this lair. After he regained himself on that day, he flew away from the Starwood Strand and navigated the Crystalspine Reaches, looking for any sign of a welcoming clan. Lo and behold, a collection of energy he couldn't ignore: a cave mouth on one of the pink mountains, and inside there was so much magic... No, not magic, Aura... An invisible life force that could be used to enhance magic, weak or strong, rumored to be an experiment imbued from the deities. After entering and being captured by the clan's guards, he was presented to the monarchy, where the true horror of Aura's power was demonstrated by the king, and has been on a daily basis since that moment. Aristheus recalled kneeling before the king and queen Fae dragons - notably and curiously Shadow dragons - as the King's mere presence oppressed Aristheus' will to live. Ironically, he had never felt smaller.

Aristheus was well-utilized, however. His capacity for scholarly things immediately employed him as an advisor, informant, logkeeper, and what he truly wanted: the Exalt Expert. In his short existence he had seen many new dragons arrive in the lair, as well as exalted a number of them. He remembered the first time he actually performed the ceremony: it was on an Imperial then his Mirror mate, as the two had, for some reason, refused to breed. Aristheus quickly learned that the dragons here were expected to produce young so that the king may take the treasure the exaltee leaves behind, and now that the pair had refused the king's orders, it was up to Aristheus to restore their honor. He held his book of Exaltation and spoke the incantation, first sending the Imperial then Mirror to honorably serve the Arcanist.

Apart from exercising his craft, the life of a new clan wasn't as glamorous as Aristheus had imagined, as this clan in particular had already been established several years ago but had yet to accomplish almost anything. As the majority of dragons hibernated from the oppressive monarchy, the disorganization and lack of scholars meant that Aristheus had to pick up the slack, catch up, and shoulder the burden of it all. He couldn't help but wonder where the original founders were, as clearly these Shadow rulers were not them, but coming in close contact with the king's deadly soul on a daily basis kept Aristheus from stepping out of line. That is, until he was approached by rebels who had the intention of throwing the lair into absolute chaos.

At first, Aristheus found it only mildly concerning when a Pearlcatcher called Chessa had approached him, asking the world of him, practically. This dragon - this peasant - wanted Aristheus to actually exalt the king and queen. He harshly refused.

"Just think about it," she urged.

"I will do no such thing!" He said shrilly. "And if I hear of this again, the King will be informed." he warned her and sent her on her way. Flustered and sweating, Aristheus gathered his papers from his desk in a hurry, sending several of them flying. It would be just great if he didn't have to tell the king about the puny thoughts of a random Pearlcatcher, as the king seemed like the kind of dragon to, well, shoot the messenger. He hoped that his warning would put a stop to it all, and it took days to quell his anxiety caused by the thought of having to exalt that monster.

A week after that, Aristheus had forgotten all about the silly little idea of revolution. The important holiday of the Starfall Celebration was soon to occur, and he himself was looking forward to it. With his book of log keeping at his side, he made his way to the grand court. There, he'd go over the projected budget for the holiday with the king himself - but Aristheus halted when he saw some creepy Fae standing outside the court's door.

He suddenly found himself surrounded by several major players of the so-called revolution. The Nox Guard - the clan's guards - approached him and reminded him of what they needed of him, and behind them stood a Pearlcatcher and Guardian who Aristheus had never seen before. Again, the idea of exalting the monarchy reared its ugly head.

Aristheus began to shudder, "should I fail or give him the opportunity to..." he trailed off before shaking his head violently. "I will not do this!"

Bananabread, the Matron of War and leader of the Nox Guard, swiftly moved and practically throttled the tiny dragon.

"We didn't come this far for nothing, Aristheus," she hissed. It was then that he realized that Chessa had not heeded his warning, and was instead banking on him complying. This was their final act, and they had already assumed Aristheus was in on it. As Bananabread held Aristheus in her grip, the unknown Pearlcatcher moved a bit closer.

"The Guardian Hydra, and I, Arjibi, are the progenitors of this lair. We alone were created by the Arcanist's hand. I had hoped that a dragon as devoted as yourself would understand," she said solemnly.

Aristheus' eyes widened, but before he had time to mentally unpack the full gravity of who these dragons were, Bananabread was jostling him around again. She shoved him past the creepy Fae who waited by the door, and he was thrust into the grand court: the huge, well-lit cavern, at the back of which were the thrones, upon which the Fae king and queen lazed.

"Aristheus, I didn't feel you arrive," the king said plainly. Aristheus was nearly at a loss for words, it's not as though he had the ability to conceal his own Aura.
"My king." Aristheus squeaked, feeling small. He was on the floor, and walked on all fours towards his fellow Faes. "May I have a word with you?"

As he walked the large open space toward the malevolent rulers, he internally debated: he could do what he came here for, he could warn the king of the rebels, he could feign ignorance. He was nearly at their thrones. He could help the rebels, he could exalt the monarchy, he could restore control of the Arcane lair to the Arcanist's creations. The Arcanist... That's what He intended when He created them...

Standing before the monarchy, Aristheus reached to his side and thumbed through his books that rested at his side - quietly passing over general logkeeping, and taking his Book of Exalting. He hesitated with his hand gripping it, before he launched the attack.

Aristheus sprung towards the king in a powerful leap, tackling and knocking him out of his throne. In the scuffle, the king's crown clattered across the cavern and Aristheus used his whole body weight to keep him subdued as the king's violent Aura flared like an explosion. The Aura made Aristheus feel like death incarnate but he held him down, using his own Aura to enhance his Arcane powers. The Shadow dragon beneath him was vulnerable to the element as Aristheus tried to control his own breathing. The queen was actually powerless and relied on the king, so her fight-or-flight kicked in, and she took flight. Hearing the commotion and knowing the final act was in play, the Nox Guard stormed the room, cutting off the queen from the exit.

"Guards! Aristheus is a traitor!" The king screeched, but the Nox Guard stood firmly at the door. Realizing that a coup was taking place, the king suddenly and eerily calmed, and his Aura receded to an unfeeling state. The cavern was silent apart from Aristheus' panicked breaths and the queens small footsteps as she darted back and forth like a trapped beast.

"Then, may The Shade curse you all," were the king's final words, as Aristheus began to read the incantation aloud, his hands trembling as he held the book. The King was then exalted, leaving behind his belongings. The queen could do nothing as Aristheus exalted her, and as she disappeared to serve a higher cause, her crown lay on the floor where she once had been. Aristheus collapsed on the floor in an anxious heap and practically hyperventilated as the Nox Guard left to break the news to the rest of the lair.

Aristheus curled up, trembling in the middle of the empty court. After all this time, it never once crossed his mind that the Shadow rulers were weak to Arcane magic. Of course they were. He had power over them all along and he almost gave in to his need for self-preservation; he almost gave up the rebel's element of surprise. In the end he had done the right thing by betraying the monarchy, honoring the Arcanist by providing the means in which his creations resume the lair He had given His permission for, but was it enough to compensate for his cowardice leading up to it? Though the rest of the lair was outside the court, rejoicing in the cave halls, to Aristheus, it was chaos, and his future now felt uncertain.

That evening, after Aristheus had collected himself off the court's floor, the start of their celebration commenced. The once-depressed and hibernating lair was active, and the rebels, along with much of the clan, were gathered in the court where the progenitors sat on the reclaimed thrones. Arjibi, the revitalized queen, stood atop her throne and made a speech, acknowledging everyone who had helped. To Aristheus' surprise, he was the first to be thanked for his part in the revolt. Everyone cheered after each name as Arjibi called them out: the Nox Guard, Gilded, Chessa, and Contagia. That is, everyone except Aristheus, who was busy gathering his thoughts quietly. He was practically the "false King's" right-hand man, whose cowardice saw him refusing to help the rebels nearly twice. Yet, he was being celebrated alongside these great activists, on the same level, and had been acknowledged by the progenitors. He wasn't sure he deserved it, though he had technically carried out the most important part, and grimaced awkwardly as the partying and mingling happened around him.

He would just have to get over himself, however. After the court cleared out for the night, Arjibi and Hydra sat in their thrones as Aristheus shuffled his log keeping book nervously. He was beckoned closer, and eventually he was calmed. The progenitors before him were benevolent souls whose Auras were nothing like the false monarchy's. They told their tale to him - of their beginning moments, the creation of the lair, their fall from power and banishment, the great depression in morale and resources caused by the unjust rule that had just been uprooted, and soon Aristheus understood the importance of what the rebels had been fighting for. He was reassured that he had done well, and that his place in the clan was not at risk.

And the progenitors proved themselves. The clan celebrated the return of their benevolent leaders for the rest of the month, as Arjibi and Hydra took their place at the top of the lair once more. The Starfall Celebration coincided with the Crystal Nook's personal celebration, and the entire clan was filled to the brim with pride and joy. The king and queen nested together for the first time in years, and the hatch was during the holiday. They welcomed a new princess, Starlight, the firstborn of this clutch. Her birth and presence in the clan was a physical reminder of everything they had went through - she marked the dawning of a new age as the clan thrived. Aristheus had the responsibility of exalting the other hatchlings, which he did with great care to show his respect and gratitude for the royal family, knowing that the Arcanist would be happy to receive these honorable dragons.

With the false monarchy gone, the clan's motivation and morale was bolstered as bountiful daily treasure jump-started the clan's inner-economy. The lair was more active than ever as they prospered and revitalized more members with genes. Dragons acquired jobs, became well-dressed and expanded their territory as the future of the lair was now monetarily secured. It was well and truly a renaissance, and Aristheus realized that life in a new clan could be glamorous after all. All he had to do was have courage.

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