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@thefrostmonster Of course! I'll add you to the Weekly list. Thank you for your interest, I'm glad you like the idea!

@Rizuki, @Solaristigres, today's story is coming up in the next post ...

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1860338] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/18604/1860338_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Creuddylad – The Heart[/b] [size=2]Pronunciation: Cruyth-il-ad[/size] Creuddylad came unto the Lundlaevungar by chance. They found her egg – pale and green and disconcerting, lying among the grasses as they foraged. It was brought back to the nesting grounds, and so Creuddylad’s egg was incubated and hatched among the rose-tinted spires of an Arcane nest. Yet she was the Plaguebringer’s through and through. Sickly. Always breathless. Never able to put meat upon her bones. Her voice a mere rasp. She did not infect her clan, but nor could she play or hunt or fly alongside them. Left in the Lair, she grew weary of her life, and Einmyrir’s whispers began to sound sweet to her ears. Then she met [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1386844]Morcant[/url]. He was older. For a long time he had been a wanderer: some tragedy of which he would not speak had driven him from his former clan. Though he hung around the Lair of the Lundlaevungar he would not stay. That much he promised. He remained only as a guest, not a part of their number. His Plague-red eyes and the shimmer of his wings called to Creuddylad. She, having grown up in a clan with eyes of many colours but none to match her own, believed that the chance of his hatching – in the Plaguebringer’s realm – was a sign. So she drew him close, tried in every way she could contrive to convince him to stay. She brought him to a nest and crooned affection; they produced three eggs. She thought that would be enough to make him remain with them. Yet the day of the hatching came, and Morcant was gone. His trail was scattered to the winds. No matter how the Lundlaevungar searched, he was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared. Creuddylad scoured the surrounding lands and seas, but to no avail. Morcant’s betrayal tore at her fragile heart until it was broken within the cage of her chest. Then she fell out of the sky. So she missed the hatching of her sons and daughter, and instead of the joy of motherhood felt only the agony of separation from the dragon she loved. The Lundlaevungar found her, hours later, in a pitiful heap upon the rocks. Her heart had been so torn by Morcant’s betrayal that not even their most skilled healers could mend it. Then Einmyrir stepped forward. He offered her a release from the pain and the heartache and the sickness, an alternative to the death that she would surely waste to if she were to remain with the Clan. He offered her Exaltation. Though the other dragons argued against it, Creuddylad was too tired and too heart-sick and in too much pain to refuse. Not even for the sake of her young ones. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=100781]Thor[/url] himself carried her from the Lair to the Observatory. He who had always known her as his [i]little valkyrie[/i] for her bravery in the face of adversity. She was so slight a weight that he barely felt her. He laid her upon the threshold and begged her to reconsider, but Creuddylad did not respond. She was too weak; too badly damaged by the bad luck of her hatching and the Plagues that had ravaged her from the moment the shell of her egg cracked apart. She simply closed her eyes. Thor withdrew, and did not see a host of Arcane Sprites gather around Creuddylad, their voices like tiny bells or gongs as they murmured comfort in no language she could understand. They grasped her limbs and body, like glimmering jewels along her flanks, and lifted her into the darkness of the Observatory, and she was gone. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [img]http://imgur.com/mnGCoXz.png[/img] [b][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2080784]Gerwyn[/url], [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2080785]Blodeuwedd[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2080786]Aelyn[/url] – The Terrors[/b] The only thing Creuddylad gave to her hatchlings was their names. They never knew their mother; she was gone to the Arcanist within hours of their hatching. They never knew their father, for he wandered the world without them. They had only their Clan, the Lundlaevungar. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=129585]Ena[/url] took them under her wing, for she never learns how foolish and dangerous it is to allow affection into her heart; she loved them as if she was their mother. Yet they did not love any of the dragons whose Lair they shared. They had no cause to be indifferent, but that did not stop them. They stole the clay and stone fertility statues that [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=56017]Loki[/url] hoards so jealously and smashed them, or swapped them for trinkets at markets and trading posts. They pulled [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1172183]Daell[/url]’s tail and nipped his wings, and spilled his scribe’s ink and giggled as he tried to clean a mess he could not see. They taunted [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=681866]Mani[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=950305]Sol[/url]’s familiars until Hati and Sköll snapped and chased them, and then ran crying to the first Lundlaevung they could find and begged for the wolves to be punished. Their cruelty was not done out of spite or malice, only out of mischief; yet it still stung each of the dragons that they hurt. Until one day they picked upon Einmyrir. They caught him sleeping upon his customary shelf of rock beside the Lair’s main entrance, and thought it would be sport to steal his store of rose quartz. They took the pile of gems, so hard-won by games and scrabbling in the muck, and buried them deep in the pink-tinged earth atop the clan’s spire. Then they waited and watched for when he woke, and found them gone. Einmyrir’s anger is great and terrible: a force to behold when bent to a purpose. Yet he did not fly into a rage, as he once had with his son, Daell. He became calm. He let them slope away, disappointed. And once their backs were turned he started to mutter strange arcane words. His Breath bloomed into a spell, which grew and enveloped the three young Mirrors. So it was that they walked of their own volition to the Observatory and through the door. Perhaps once on the other side, when the enchantment broke and they knew their own minds once more, they scrabbled to be free once again. Or perhaps they now make merry beneath the Arcanist’s claws, and steal his books, and ruin his experiments. Who knows. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]I did wait for The Terrors to grow up and levelled them before sending them to join the Arcanist, but their baby pictures work better for this one. I just have this headcanon that Mirror hatchlings are [i]really naughty[/i] … ;) Also, Happy World Book Day everyone![/size] [br]

[img]http://imgur.com/QoIxdru.png[/img] [b][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2326074]Snara[/url], [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2326075]Snua[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2326076]Vindar[/url] – The Plaited[/b] These spirals were found by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=379381]Fenrir[/url], unprotected, alone and afraid, with their bodies twisted into a knot. Even after the Lundlaevungar painstakingly unwound them and found that there were three hatchlings in the ruined nest, they remained inseparable. Some – the more practical members of the clan – protested that there was not enough room. Others – those whose hearts were softened by their enormous Arcane eyes – were adamant that they should remain and be looked after, and become part of the Clan. Whatever happened, they needed names. Fenrir named them as he had found them: Snara, Snua and Vindar, the three who had once been so tangled together that they almost seemed to be parts of one whole. Einmyrir’s eyes glazed when he looked upon the hatchlings. It seemed to him that they were pulsing with Arcane energies, the threads of magic plaiting together as they rose from the hatchlings’ bodies – like a thread, tugging on them, pulling them towards their destiny. He knew instinctively where it would lead. So he won their affections, and their trust. Snara by allowing her to admire her pretty face in the reflection of his gems. Snua with gifts of honeybees, and the sweetest grubs he could lay his claws upon. Vidnar – who was the smallest – with stories of the Arcanist, and the worth of a scholar’s knowledge over a soldier’s might. Then he began to whisper his propaganda into their little ears. Each night, he told them of the roseate threads connecting them to their God, so that they would fall asleep and dream of His serene countenance. So when, one morning, the Clan woke to find they had slipped away in the night, Einmyrir did not join the frantic search. He knew where they had gone, and that they would never return. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2326077] [img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=10&bodygene=0&breed=2&element=9&gender=1&tert=37&tertgene=0&winggene=1&wings=32&auth=0ac2b0b4734cdbc637e601d3c09d279922b0a390&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url] [b]Leysa – The Freed[/b] Few of the Lundlaevungar were ever aware that the spiral triplets had a fourth sibling. Fenrir’s keen nose caught the scent of a Guardian at the site of the nest, but no amount of searching could find her. Einmyrir knew of her – but only because of his unique vision, his ability to see Breath. He saw it within her, blooming inside her chest, a fathomless well of power, even in one so small. It shimmered across her hide where she crouched among the shadows – a concealment charm, cast instinctively. Such innate ability, he decided, should go to the Arcanist. She never joined the Clan, not truly, though occasionally one of the dragons would mention seeing a stocky little Guardian hatchling disappearing into the undergrowth. Einmyrir kept her presence a secret, but would leave out titbits of food, and trinkets for her to find. Arcane runestones. Rose quartz from his collection. Once even an Idol. Little things, which would resonate with the magic inside of her, and remind her of the Him. He thought of her as Leysa: the one who was untangled from her siblings before they were found. Yet she could never quite sever the tie. She remained well within the Lundlaevungars’ territory, and often stayed within sight of the Lair entrance. When Snara, Snua and Vindar played on the grass, Einmyrir would sometimes see her hiding in the undergrowth, watching, almost as if she would like to join in but did not have the courage. The last time Einmyrir saw her was the night her siblings left the Clan. Though he will never truly know what became of Leysa, he believes that she followed her sisters and brother to the Arcanist. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]Snara, Snua and Vindar’s names all mean ‘to twist’ in Old Norse. Leysa’s name means ‘to untie’ in Old Norse. :)[/size][br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1511240] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/15113/1511240_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Evan – The Frozen-Hearted[/b] Evan was hatched on the northernmost edge of the Icewarden’s lands, where the Frigid Floes drift close to the rose-quartz spires of the Starfall Isles. The majority of the clan were devout to the Icewarden, and prized his colours – ice and white to blend with the landscape – above all others. Evan’s dark wings were a blot in their midst, and so they cast him out. Evan wandered the land and the sea between the Frigid Floes and the Crystalspine Reaches alone for what felt like an age. Unwanted, undeeded, and lonely within his heart, he could find no clans – Arcane or Ice – that warmed to his company. Then one day he passed by the mouth of a lair, and a fae called out to him. Einmyrir. He could see the deep, pulsing magenta beneath Evan’s monochrome hide: a mark from the Arcanist. He told Evan as much. He promised him that there was a place where he would finally belong: the Observatory. Evan was wary when Einmyrir offered him a meal and a night beside the clan’s fires. He was not convinced that he spoke the truth. Over the course of the evening, Einmyrir introduced Evan to his latest offspring – Hlakka, Hrelling, Hvilith and Hyggja – and, speaking low and soft so that the rest of the Clan would not hear, he told Evan of his plans to send them to join the Arcanist once they were old enough. Evan thought him strange, to speak to callously of his own hatchlings, but agreed to spend the night with the Lunlaevungar. That night, Evan dreamed. He dreamed of crystal spires and endlessly tall bookshelves; of the stars pinwheeling through the sky, enormous and fascinating. He dreamed of his own skin cracking open – painless, and yet horrifying all the same – to riddle his body in bright magenta. And a voice, deep and solemn and emanating from the Observatory – calling his name. He woke in a flurry, and could still hear the voice echoing inside his mind. The Arcanist. Calling him, urging him to the Observatory. And close by was Einmyrir, his Arcane eyes boring into Evan’s flesh. Evan fled. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [img]http://imgur.com/qEfE0Ob.png[/img] [img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/c78d/f/2015/147/9/4/fr__arcane_by_baelfin-d8uyn6b.png[/img][color=transparent]x[/color][b][url= http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=2330645]Hlakka[/url], [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=2330646]Hrelling[/url], [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=2330647]Hvilth[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=2330648]Hyggja[/url] – The Unformed[/b] The children of Einmyrir and Ena are all destined not to choose their own fate. Their father makes sure of that. Yet the pair’s fourth nest had even less choice than those who had gone before. They were hatched the day before Einmyrir first met Evan, an Ice dragon who Einmyrir believed was marked by the Arcanist, though the mark was hidden deep beneath his scales. There were spells and scrolls which might have brought it out, but Einmyrir decided not to waste valuable Breath. At first he tried to recruit Evan using his normal means: sweet words and promises of what would await him in the Observatory. Then, when it was clear the Evan was not so easily swayed, he tried a new tactic. He used his Breath to influence Evan’s dreams, and show him what lay before him if he should go to the Arcanist. Yet it went wrong - something about the spell was too much, and Evan fled, terrified. The spell was not lifted, however, and for the following nights and days Evan was plagued by visions of his skin splitting open to reveal the magenta beneath, and taunted by the voice of the Arcanist ringing between his ears. It drove him to madness and desperation. He could not sleep; he could not hunt; he could not escape it. So he returned to the Lundlaevungar while the clan was sleeping. He found Einmyrir’s hatchlings. He knew they were destined for the Arcanist – but he also knew that Einmyrir planned to train them first, and make them into fitting soldiers for His army. He knew how disappointed Einmyrir would be if his hatchlings were sub-standard when they went to the Arcanist. So Evan gathered up the four hatchlings between his claws and took off, carrying them to the Arcanist alongside him: a peace offering, as much as revenge – in the hopes that the God could reverse the spell cast upon him, and end the madness that had descended upon him. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]I don’t remember the ins and outs of this, but I do recall that I ended up exalting these four of Einmyrir’s hatchlings [i]as hatchlings[/i], rather than waiting for them to grow up and levelling them. I assume it was to do with a Dom push. Oh, and Evan's tertiary was Magenta Basic. ;) [b]Name Meanings:[/b] Hlakka (F): to scream Hrelling (F): affliction Hvilth (M): rest or pause Hyggja (F): anxiety[/size] [br]

@Arenfelle Of course I'll add you! Thanks for your interest, and I'm glad you're enjoying the stories.

@Rizuki and @Solaristigres today's story is now up! Here's you weekly ping, @shanncrafter, @Cherri, @SeleneHime, @thefrostmonster.

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2354695] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/23547/2354695_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Aedra – The Bringer of Despair[/b] Aedra was hatched with hard-edges, his Arcane eyes matching the colour of his wings. He caught the eyes of other dragons for his striking colouration – but they did not know him as the Lundlaevungar did. None of the dragons in the clan know if Einmyrir tampered with Aedra’s egg, though many suspected. For Aedra was not only hard: he was brutal, a mirror through and through. He hunted with his brother, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2354694]Aethra[/url], in tight formation, taking down anything that came into their path without pity or remorse. Aedra earned a name, among the Arcane clans surrounding the Lundlaevungar’s lair: the Bringer of Despair. For it wasn’t long before all creatures scuttled away rather than battle him, and dragons avoided his too-bright gaze in the hopes of avoiding a fight over nothing. Wounds inflicted by his claws seemed to take longer to heal, and infected the bearer with a deep melancholy that could not be lifted until after the scars had healed over and were gone. So the clan whispered among themselves, and asked Einmyrir to intervene. He spoke to Aedra, his words weaving a spell around the mirror’s head until he agreed to exalt himself. When he left the Lair for the last time, the clan breathed a sigh of relief. [br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2784236] [img]http://flightrising.com/image_generators/dragonpic2.php?body=10&wing=26&style=2&gender=1&ages=0&prig=0&secg=0&tert=28&elem=9&tertgene=0&spec=prev.png[/img][/url] [b]Tyna – The Lost[/b] The first lesson Tyna’s parents tried to teach her was that she should never wander off. Yet Tyna never listened; Tyna refused to learn. She was enchanted by the glittering rose quartz gems that Einmyrir kept in a secret nook towards the back of the Lair, in his own personal hoard – and by the jewels that grew out of his flesh. She liked to play with them, chase them as he skimmed the rose quartz across the floor, and she liked to follow him when he went out into the sunlight and his gembound hide sparkled and shone. When Tyna went missing, her parents looked everywhere. They could not find her. Nor could they find Einmyrir. He eventually returned – tired, as if from a long walk – and Tyna’s father accused him of taking her to the Observatory. Yet Einmyrir would not admit to it – not even when Tyna’s mother crammed him hard against the Lair wall by his throat and snarled into his face. He never spoke a word. But when they finally gave up and let the grief and loss take them, the Arcane rune between his eyes seemed to glow a little brighter – as if in triumph. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2784235] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/27843/2784235_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Skjalfa – The Quake[/b] The biggest hatchling in his clutch, Skjalfa overshadowed his brother Kvið and his sister Tyna from the moment they hatched. As a hatchling, he was heavy-footed, clumsy, too-loud and too-reckless – and as he grew into an adult, not very much changed. The Clan took to jokingly referring to him as “The Earthquake” as his footsteps shook the ground and tended to knock over any small items or trinkets that the other dragons left lying around. Yet Skjalfa was kind, and took the other dragons’ comments on the chin, and although it rarely worked he did try to tiptoe through the Lair. After his sister went missing, he and his brother grew close, despite their many differences. He encouraged Kvið to go out on hunting trips with him, and helped him to train to become better. The two missed their sister dearly. One day, Skjalfa was on his way into the Lair when his heavy steps rumbled Einmyrir’s careful pile of rose-quartz and Arcane runes. They tumbled, the little gembound fae scrambling to gather them up even before they were all spilled, his frills stiff with irritation. Skjalfa rushed to help – he had always been taught to respect his elders, and didn’t do these things on purpose. Once the pile was restored, Einmyrir fixed him with a stare, his frills back and his eyes a little glazed as if he was looking through Skjalfa, not at him. Then Einmyrir started to talk. He thanked Skjalfa, then went on to talk about Tyna – how he had liked the little guardian and tried to befriend her before she tragically was lost. He revealed that he had gone after her and heard reports from other dragons that she had entered the Observatory – out of curiosity, not devotion. “I’m sure the Arcanist would understand that she wasn’t meant for Exaltation,” he murmured as he turned away, the Arcane symbol between his eyes glowing bright and brilliant, reflecting off the facets of his gems. “I know he would listen to your plea. He might even let her go …” The words swam around Skjalfa’s head and he went about the rest of the day in a dream. Eventually, Kvið’s concern convinced him to speak – and he asked his brother to journey to the Observatory with him, to take their sister back. The two brothers set out on their quest a few days later, against the better judgement of most of the clan. They have yet to return. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2784237] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/27843/2784237_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Kviðlingr – The Musician[/b] [size=2]Pronunciation: Kvith-ling-er[/size] Kvið – as he was known to his Clan – was hatched just before the Mistral Jamboree. He grew up during the Windsinger’s festival. Perhaps that god’s magics seeped into his skin, drawn to him because of his jade wings. Whatever the reason, Kvið became more musical with each passing day. He grew closer to Daell, because of his love of music and rhyme; understandable, as Daell was the clan’s Wordsmith, tasked with keeping the histories and tales in order. As so many of these were in the form of songs or poems, Daell was the closest to a musician that the Clan could offer at the time. Daell began to teach Kvið what he knew, and the guardian’s natural talents helped him along as he grew into an adult. Einmyrir watched from the shadows. There was a still a piece of his heart that could never forgive Daell for his betrayal; and somehow his son’s friendship with Kvið stuck a thorn right into that ugly knot of old pain. He slunk away to plot. Kvið and his brother, Skjalfa, were very different, but had always been close – ever since the unexplained loss of their sister. They often went hunting together. Although this was more Skjalfa’s field of expertise, Kvið agreed that they should earn their place among the clan. He often practiced his skill in composing songs using their exploits as inspiration. Then once day, as they carried their haul back from the Scorched Forest, Skjalfa mentioned their sister. Einmyrir had told Skjalfa that Tyna had last been seen heading towards the Observatory – and Skjalfa planned to go and get her back, through force if necessary. Although Kvið was dubious, Skjalfa told him that he could not go without his brother by his side. “The Arcanist might listen to one who is skilled with words,” he said, “And either way, when we return with Tyna, it will make a great song for you to sing.” It took Skjalfa days to convince Kvið that it was possible, that they could do it, together; but in the end Kvið agreed to follow him to the Observatory and enter, in the hopes that they could bring their sister home. Daell wept when the two brother set out; Einmyrir watched, and the frills around his face rippled in what might have been pleasure. [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]I do enjoy writing morally dubious, creepy Einmyrir … [b]Name Meanings:[/b] Skjalfa: tremble/shake (as in earthquake) Kviðlingr: ditty Sadly, Kvið’s name is spelled incorrectly as “Kvindlingr” on-site because of a typo, oops. I refused to spend 6K on a rename scroll for an exaltling (sorry Kvið!). Also, I regret not going with “Kvithlingr” as it sounds better and would be closer to how I’d pronounce the ð: ‘th’, pronounced as in ‘that’. Even if “Kvithlingr” does look more clunky in the Anglicised spelling, I do wish I'd gone with it …[/size] [br]

[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2784242] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/27843/2784242_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Kveld – The Dusk[/b] Kveld loved her Clan; loved her family and her brother, who was her opposite. Although she was born with skin and wings like the night sky, she never felt as if she belonged to the darkness. So one day, she went to the Light … [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2784243] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/27843/2784243_350.png[/img][/url] [b]Lysa – The Dawn[/b] Lysa loved his sister. When she left the clan to go into the Light, he wanted to follow – to meet the same glorious destiny. The Clan let him go, but his weary footsteps did not lead him to the Sundial Terrace. Instead, they led him into the open arms of the Arcanist. There, perhaps, he found peace … [br][IMG]http://imgur.com/i79pUJC.png[/IMG][br] [size=2]Kveld sold on the AH, and was promptly exalted to Glittermum. Strangely fitting; her tertiary was sunshine, after all … I wrote a piece about her because I felt I should somehow, even though she was exalted by someone else. Funnily enough, since the time of writing, whoever exalted her has moved to Arcane! I also didn’t exalt Lysa. I was going to, and then I found a Light Sprite raffle that was accepting dragons as trade-ins and I jumped all over them for tickets. But he did get exalted to the Arcanist, so there you go.[/size] [br]