nyx coven archives
a lore thread for nyx coven, a lore clan from light, originally from shadow.
mind your step. the witches are watching.
directory
• history
• locations
• profiles a-m
• profiles n-z
• story archives
• pinglist and credits
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TOPIC | [LORE] nyx coven archives - new story!
[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2257922][img]https://s3.postimg.cc/lul23cnhv/left-hori.png[/img][/url][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/art/2418375/1#post_32699716][img]https://i.imgur.com/dZ7hedl.png[/img][/url][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2257922][img]https://s3.postimg.cc/yxgommdpv/right-hori.png[/img][/url]
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a lore thread for nyx coven, a lore clan from light, originally from shadow.
mind your step. the witches are watching.[br]
[color=#210000][size=5][b][color=#210000]d[/color][color=#371E1E]i[/color][color=#4D3D3D]r[/color][color=#635B5B]e[/color][color=#7A7A7A]c[/color][color=#635B5B]t[/color][color=#4D3D3D]o[/color][color=#371E1E]r[/color][color=#210000]y[/color][/b][/size]
• history
• locations
• profiles a-m
• profiles n-z
• story archives
• pinglist and credits
nyx coven archives
a lore thread for nyx coven, a lore clan from light, originally from shadow.
mind your step. the witches are watching.
directory
• history
• locations
• profiles a-m
• profiles n-z
• story archives
• pinglist and credits
coven history
a working overview of the coven's past and present. the future has yet to unfold.
the origin era
The Origin Era was the time of the coven's founding, deep in the Tangled Wood. There was much turmoil and turnover at this time, featuring a great number of dragons who came and went from beneath the coven queen's watchful eye. Most notably, the natural world surrounding the coven was in flux, with streams shifting and paths wandering in new directions, among other unusual phenomena. This era ended as those fluctuations culminated in an unforeseen shift in the coven's location.
the ages era
The Ages Era began when Nyx Coven was uprooted from the (retroactively named) Hall of Origin and relocated within the Hall of Ages. Only some of the coven's original members were relocated, while others were left behind in the Wispwillow Grove. Various witches began to flock to the coven in greater numbers than before, often by inexplicable chance, and the coven members were torn between mourning their old lives and building new ones in the Lightweaver's lands.
the bridge era
The transition from the Ages Era to the Bridge Era was smooth and subtle, only noticeable in the time that followed. As greater numbers of witches arrived, so did manifestations of natural forces, like faeries and dryads. These local powers were heralds of a greater power, the Bridge of Seasons, an enchanted locale with enormous magical strength that began to warp the coven's territory in new ways. This era was characterized by indecision as the coven tried to decide whether an alliance or a war was appropriate with regards to the Bridge and its denizens.
the emperor era
With alliances finally and tentatively established came the arrival of the Emperor, and the current age. The land is alive with untold magic, but things best left buried are rising again nonetheless. All witches of the coven, and even those few non-magical residents, are preparing for a long, grim war against the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins. The outcome remains uncertain, and the era promises to be a frightening chapter in coven history.
a working overview of the coven's past and present. the future has yet to unfold.
the origin era
The Origin Era was the time of the coven's founding, deep in the Tangled Wood. There was much turmoil and turnover at this time, featuring a great number of dragons who came and went from beneath the coven queen's watchful eye. Most notably, the natural world surrounding the coven was in flux, with streams shifting and paths wandering in new directions, among other unusual phenomena. This era ended as those fluctuations culminated in an unforeseen shift in the coven's location.
the ages era
The Ages Era began when Nyx Coven was uprooted from the (retroactively named) Hall of Origin and relocated within the Hall of Ages. Only some of the coven's original members were relocated, while others were left behind in the Wispwillow Grove. Various witches began to flock to the coven in greater numbers than before, often by inexplicable chance, and the coven members were torn between mourning their old lives and building new ones in the Lightweaver's lands.
the bridge era
The transition from the Ages Era to the Bridge Era was smooth and subtle, only noticeable in the time that followed. As greater numbers of witches arrived, so did manifestations of natural forces, like faeries and dryads. These local powers were heralds of a greater power, the Bridge of Seasons, an enchanted locale with enormous magical strength that began to warp the coven's territory in new ways. This era was characterized by indecision as the coven tried to decide whether an alliance or a war was appropriate with regards to the Bridge and its denizens.
the emperor era
With alliances finally and tentatively established came the arrival of the Emperor, and the current age. The land is alive with untold magic, but things best left buried are rising again nonetheless. All witches of the coven, and even those few non-magical residents, are preparing for a long, grim war against the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins. The outcome remains uncertain, and the era promises to be a frightening chapter in coven history.
coven history
a working overview of the coven's past and present. the future has yet to unfold.
the origin era
The Origin Era was the time of the coven's founding, deep in the Tangled Wood. There was much turmoil and turnover at this time, featuring a great number of dragons who came and went from beneath the coven queen's watchful eye. Most notably, the natural world surrounding the coven was in flux, with streams shifting and paths wandering in new directions, among other unusual phenomena. This era ended as those fluctuations culminated in an unforeseen shift in the coven's location.
the ages era
The Ages Era began when Nyx Coven was uprooted from the (retroactively named) Hall of Origin and relocated within the Hall of Ages. Only some of the coven's original members were relocated, while others were left behind in the Wispwillow Grove. Various witches began to flock to the coven in greater numbers than before, often by inexplicable chance, and the coven members were torn between mourning their old lives and building new ones in the Lightweaver's lands.
the bridge era
The transition from the Ages Era to the Bridge Era was smooth and subtle, only noticeable in the time that followed. As greater numbers of witches arrived, so did manifestations of natural forces, like faeries and dryads. These local powers were heralds of a greater power, the Bridge of Seasons, an enchanted locale with enormous magical strength that began to warp the coven's territory in new ways. This era was characterized by indecision as the coven tried to decide whether an alliance or a war was appropriate with regards to the Bridge and its denizens.
the emperor era
With alliances finally and tentatively established came the arrival of the Emperor, and the current age. The land is alive with untold magic, but things best left buried are rising again nonetheless. All witches of the coven, and even those few non-magical residents, are preparing for a long, grim war against the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins. The outcome remains uncertain, and the era promises to be a frightening chapter in coven history.
a working overview of the coven's past and present. the future has yet to unfold.
the origin era
The Origin Era was the time of the coven's founding, deep in the Tangled Wood. There was much turmoil and turnover at this time, featuring a great number of dragons who came and went from beneath the coven queen's watchful eye. Most notably, the natural world surrounding the coven was in flux, with streams shifting and paths wandering in new directions, among other unusual phenomena. This era ended as those fluctuations culminated in an unforeseen shift in the coven's location.
the ages era
The Ages Era began when Nyx Coven was uprooted from the (retroactively named) Hall of Origin and relocated within the Hall of Ages. Only some of the coven's original members were relocated, while others were left behind in the Wispwillow Grove. Various witches began to flock to the coven in greater numbers than before, often by inexplicable chance, and the coven members were torn between mourning their old lives and building new ones in the Lightweaver's lands.
the bridge era
The transition from the Ages Era to the Bridge Era was smooth and subtle, only noticeable in the time that followed. As greater numbers of witches arrived, so did manifestations of natural forces, like faeries and dryads. These local powers were heralds of a greater power, the Bridge of Seasons, an enchanted locale with enormous magical strength that began to warp the coven's territory in new ways. This era was characterized by indecision as the coven tried to decide whether an alliance or a war was appropriate with regards to the Bridge and its denizens.
the emperor era
With alliances finally and tentatively established came the arrival of the Emperor, and the current age. The land is alive with untold magic, but things best left buried are rising again nonetheless. All witches of the coven, and even those few non-magical residents, are preparing for a long, grim war against the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins. The outcome remains uncertain, and the era promises to be a frightening chapter in coven history.
[center][font=franklin gothic][size=5][b][color=#210000]c[/color][color=#2D1111]o[/color][color=#3A2222]v[/color][color=#473434]e[/color][color=#534545]n[/color] [color=#6D6868]l[/color][color=#797A7A]o[/color][color=#6D6868]c[/color][color=#605757]a[/color][color=#534545]t[/color][color=#473434]i[/color][color=#3A2222]o[/color][color=#2D1111]n[/color][color=#200000]s[/color][/b][/size]
the key locations and holdings of the coven, home to all but a few of its members.
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/shadow_1.png[/img] [nextcol][font=franklin gothic][b]The Hall of Origin[/b] is hidden in the Tangled Wood, close to the Driftwood Drag. The original home of Nyx Coven, it is a glade tucked into the heart of the Wispwillow Grove, lit by fireflies and glowshrooms. It is a place hidden from prying eyes, available only to those in desperate need of salvation, and it has seen many witches pass through its heart. The rumors say that the Hall beckons them, calling them ever closer from every reach of time, and that once the Hall has hold, it never lets go. Any dragon born to the Hall of Origins, however, will defend their home from all slander; it is a nurturing place, a place with blessed power. It is a place that kindles witchcraft.[/columns][br][br]
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/light_0.png[/img] [nextcol][font=franklin gothic][b]The Hall of Ages[/b] is located on the edge of the Sundial Terrace. The new home of Nyx Coven, it is a lifetime away from the Hall of Origin. It is nestled in the lands below the Sundial Terrace, within sight of the Beacon of the Radiant Eye, and it is home to sprawling tiled halls and balconies that overlook the empty sea. Local legend has it that the Hall of Ages stands where there was once nothing but open fields, and that it appeared overnight, perhaps with the blessing of the gods. As a result, locals steer clear of the Hall, respecting it as a sacred space. The coven, however, finds it to be a place of power, and a place of change. No two hallways ever lead to the same place twice.[/columns][br][br]
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/ice_1.png[/img] [nextcol][font=franklin gothic][b]The Pyrrhic Vale[/b] sweeps through the plains between the Mirrorlight Promenade and the Hewn City. It is a valley ensconced in the shadow of the Beacon of the Radiant Eye. In ages past, it was a dueling ground for rival clans seeking to settle the area, and its beautiful hills belie a deadly history. The flowers that grow in the Vale are said to have lured dragons to their death with sweet scents before folding them into the earth with their roots. Sated by the blood they consumed, they now lie dormant, flowering year-round and providing an idyllic landscape for dragons that do not wish to settle in large groups. Nonetheless, tradition persists, and on nights of blood moons, dragons migrate elsewhere until sunrise.[/columns][br][br]
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/light_2.png[/img] [nextcol][font=franklin gothic][b]The Hewn Shrine[/b] can be found dangerously close to the Hewn City proper. It derives its name its proximity to the ghostly ruins. It is a somber place, meant for the dead to rest and the living to pray. Dragons come here only for funerals or offerings, wary of disturbing hallowed ground with trivial matters, and only flight representatives may been found in the Shrine's halls at all hours of the day, as they are responsible for maintaining their deities' altars. There are whispers that the representatives reside in the Shrine for darker purposes, though, purposes connected to the dragons that vanish into the Hewn City without a trace.[/columns][br][br]
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/nature_1.png[/img] [nextcol][font=franklin gothic][b]The Bridge of Seasons[/b] cannot be discovered without luck unless the Bridge wills it. It is a between world, caught between now and then, yesterday and yesteryear. It cannot be found by normal means, nor can it be abandoned so easily. Tales of the Bridge of Seasons say that it occupies all four seasons at once, each as ephemeral as it is eternal, and that the wind whistles beneath it, reaching the sky in melancholy notes that bend the ear toward it like a siren's call. Those claimed by the Bridge are said to be caught in crossing, and few are likely to reach the other side. Those that do, though, are forever marked by the faintest touch of autumn light and spring-sweet scent.[/columns][br][br]
[columns][img]http://www1.flightrising.com/static/map/icons/water_1.png[/img] [nextcol] [font=franklin gothic][b]The Cove Inn[/b] is a small establishment that sits on the shared edge of the Sundial Terrace and Tsunami Flats. Nyx Coven does not have many holdings located far from the Hall of Ages, but the Cove Inn is its one rare exception. It is a small resort run with a limited staff and a number of exceptional perks. Most notably, though, the inn is reserved for Nyx Coven witches at any time, no questions asked. Moreover, it serves as a trading post for regions beyond immediate reach of the Sunbeam Ruins, and among its trade items are sometimes more illicit materials, such as dark spells and ingredients for potions of a questionable nature.[/columns]
coven locations
the key locations and holdings of the coven, home to all but a few of its members.
the key locations and holdings of the coven, home to all but a few of its members.
| The Hall of Origin is hidden in the Tangled Wood, close to the Driftwood Drag. The original home of Nyx Coven, it is a glade tucked into the heart of the Wispwillow Grove, lit by fireflies and glowshrooms. It is a place hidden from prying eyes, available only to those in desperate need of salvation, and it has seen many witches pass through its heart. The rumors say that the Hall beckons them, calling them ever closer from every reach of time, and that once the Hall has hold, it never lets go. Any dragon born to the Hall of Origins, however, will defend their home from all slander; it is a nurturing place, a place with blessed power. It is a place that kindles witchcraft. |
| The Hall of Ages is located on the edge of the Sundial Terrace. The new home of Nyx Coven, it is a lifetime away from the Hall of Origin. It is nestled in the lands below the Sundial Terrace, within sight of the Beacon of the Radiant Eye, and it is home to sprawling tiled halls and balconies that overlook the empty sea. Local legend has it that the Hall of Ages stands where there was once nothing but open fields, and that it appeared overnight, perhaps with the blessing of the gods. As a result, locals steer clear of the Hall, respecting it as a sacred space. The coven, however, finds it to be a place of power, and a place of change. No two hallways ever lead to the same place twice. |
| The Pyrrhic Vale sweeps through the plains between the Mirrorlight Promenade and the Hewn City. It is a valley ensconced in the shadow of the Beacon of the Radiant Eye. In ages past, it was a dueling ground for rival clans seeking to settle the area, and its beautiful hills belie a deadly history. The flowers that grow in the Vale are said to have lured dragons to their death with sweet scents before folding them into the earth with their roots. Sated by the blood they consumed, they now lie dormant, flowering year-round and providing an idyllic landscape for dragons that do not wish to settle in large groups. Nonetheless, tradition persists, and on nights of blood moons, dragons migrate elsewhere until sunrise. |
| The Hewn Shrine can be found dangerously close to the Hewn City proper. It derives its name its proximity to the ghostly ruins. It is a somber place, meant for the dead to rest and the living to pray. Dragons come here only for funerals or offerings, wary of disturbing hallowed ground with trivial matters, and only flight representatives may been found in the Shrine's halls at all hours of the day, as they are responsible for maintaining their deities' altars. There are whispers that the representatives reside in the Shrine for darker purposes, though, purposes connected to the dragons that vanish into the Hewn City without a trace. |
| The Bridge of Seasons cannot be discovered without luck unless the Bridge wills it. It is a between world, caught between now and then, yesterday and yesteryear. It cannot be found by normal means, nor can it be abandoned so easily. Tales of the Bridge of Seasons say that it occupies all four seasons at once, each as ephemeral as it is eternal, and that the wind whistles beneath it, reaching the sky in melancholy notes that bend the ear toward it like a siren's call. Those claimed by the Bridge are said to be caught in crossing, and few are likely to reach the other side. Those that do, though, are forever marked by the faintest touch of autumn light and spring-sweet scent. |
| The Cove Inn is a small establishment that sits on the shared edge of the Sundial Terrace and Tsunami Flats. Nyx Coven does not have many holdings located far from the Hall of Ages, but the Cove Inn is its one rare exception. It is a small resort run with a limited staff and a number of exceptional perks. Most notably, though, the inn is reserved for Nyx Coven witches at any time, no questions asked. Moreover, it serves as a trading post for regions beyond immediate reach of the Sunbeam Ruins, and among its trade items are sometimes more illicit materials, such as dark spells and ingredients for potions of a questionable nature. |
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members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=40292799][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/402928/40292799p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]abyssana - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Abyssana is the fourth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36777835][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/367779/36777835p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]aella - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Truly a daughter of the sky, Aella rarely has her feet on the ground longer than a moment. She prefers to be in her airship or flying beside it, accompanied by her crew as they tour Sornieth. When she does stop, it is at the Cove Inn, where she met and fell in love with Ventus, her mate. Their relationship has made her an honorary member of the coven.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13284436][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/132845/13284436p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]aethos - he/him - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]One of the two founding members of Nyx Coven, Aethos is the steadfast knight to his calculating queen. While his mate prefers to govern her coven through magic, he protects his own with his loyal heart and ready blade. He does possess some magic, allowing him to call inanimate objects to his aid, but he distrusts such a skill, and prefers to act with as little magic as possible.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27212879][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/272129/27212879p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]animus - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Formally a priest of the Arcanist, Animus is really more of a scientist, and he tends to use the Hewn Shrine as his personal lab despite the protests of his religious cohorts. His mate, Psyche, encourages his endeavors, though, as his patron deity is certainly fond of discovery. Additionally, he has unusually impressive skills in the realm of curse-breaking, a rare talent.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49011261][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/490113/49011261p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]arcanaea - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Arcanaea is the eleventh head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33654172][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/336542/33654172p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]asha - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Most witches in the coven have control over single subtypes of magic. Asha, however, is something of a mystery, brimming with vast and unpredictable power that manifests as it pleases, well beyond her control. As a result, many fear her, but she finds solace in Thana, her mate. They are both more powerful than anyone wishes to admit, and find solace in one another.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32721769][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/327218/32721769p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]asivos - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Not all coven members are witches. Asivos is one of the rare few without a magical gift. Instead, he is cursed by the light of the moon, a result of an impulsive dare and an ill-fated night in the Hewn City. His werewolf abilities are both blessing and curse, and he helps Hiareth protect the coven's borders in exchange for sanctuary and restraint during full moons.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35129098][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/351291/35129098p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]aurore - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]While Aurore's mate, Lucien, uses his gifts to brighten the coven, Aurore uses hers to help it thrive in softer, more subtle ways. A witch of the heart, she can see love in all its forms, and helps to bring dragons closer when they most need one another. Her empathy helps to keep the coven steady and peaceful, though she is beginning to sense dark hearts on the horizon.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35434041][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/354341/35434041p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]auryon - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]The shadiest corner of the Cove Inn is reserved for Auryon and her dealings. She trades in metals, especially rare ones, bringing in her goods from all corners of the world, and rumor has it, she turns a hefty profit for the good of the coven. Rumor also has it that the metal she sells is metal she could also wield at a moment's notice. No one has confirmed if she has such deadly magic.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19750811][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/197509/19750811p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]ayumu - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]In life, Ayumu was one of the richest dragons around. He ruled the Hewn City with his towers of treasure, and over the years, the locals began to view him as something more than mortal. In the eons since, he has become a shade of his former wealth, and his city has crumbled to ruin around him. Nonetheless, he insists on his right to be recognized as its patron.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=40149509][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/401496/40149509p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]cahaya - they/them - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Cahaya sees what few dragons can: promises in the form of golden strings. These promises lace the floors of the Hall of Ages, and Cahaya is enchanted by every one. They can feel the magic pulsing in the Hall, and they are certain that somewhere within the shifting corridors lie great secrets and greater oaths, the kind their magic is made to make or break.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28680755][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/286808/28680755p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]calypso - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Without magical gifts, Calypso has never felt at home in Nyx Coven, and prefers to keep to her resort instead, running it with her shrewd business know-how. She also keeps an eye on the sharks that are her Charge from there, ready to defend the cove until her last breath. Only her mate Pontus has managed to lower her natural defenses, and she loves him dearly.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38196707][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/381968/38196707p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]caoimhe - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Inexplicably tied to both the land and sea, Caoimhe lives close to the Cove Inn, acting as guardian of the nearby delta allowing inland passage. She is difficult to predict and hard to find, making her more rumor than resident to dragons who don't know better. Those who have been around the Cove Inn long enough, though, know that Caoimhe and the shore cannot be parted.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35346791][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/353468/35346791p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]celosia - she/her - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Celosia is one with the trees more so than any dragon who lives under the Bridge of Seasons's thrall. She is their welcome sister, and converses with them regularly, marshaling them to protect the Bridge. The alliance with Nyx Coven makes her wary, and she has prepared her beloved trees for any hint of treachery or violence. Celosia protects her own.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=39856886][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/398569/39856886p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]cephas - they/them - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]All magic must have a source, even the mysterious Bridge of Seasons, which appears to operate according to its own accord. But in the heart of the Bridge lies a dormant spirit of immense power: Cephas. It is a lucky thing they have slumbered for so long, because the power they might unleash when they awaken could be catastrophic if not handled properly.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29708489][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/297085/29708489p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]cerra - she/her - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]If the Bridge of Seasons is an hourglass, Cerra is the sand within. She was among the first to find the Bridge, to be trapped by it, and she has never been able to escape it, even with her raging sand magic battering away at its barriers. With her own life forfeit to the Bridge, she guards it, prepared to warn all who might dare to cross it that they are in grave danger.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=28884696][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/288847/28884696p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]cespes - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]As the ever-patient priest of the Earthshaker, Cespes is the welcoming force at the doors of the Hewn Shrine. He is also the confidant of many, accepting religious confessions if a specific deity's representative is not requested. When he isn't attending to his priestly duties, he is often found strolling with Ge, his mate, and reminiscing at length.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44208663][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/442087/44208663p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]chiara - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]No more than a ghost to most residents of the Vale, Chiara has existed among the bloodthirsty flowers since the ages of war that gave the land its grim history. She was once a medic in those vicious conflicts, and in her afterlife, she offers her knowledge and compassion to healers among the living. It is the least she can do, still trapped in this world.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29566441][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/295665/29566441p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]dantalion - he/him - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Dantalion is one of the few dragons able to the Bridge of Seasons at will, and this is probably due to his strange map witch magics. Able to contort any map to better suit the landscape, or any landscape to better suit the map, he has a keen sense of direction. He has a keen sense of greed, too, and regularly charges tourists for directions, then hides his payment away somewhere secret and safe.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36239801][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/362399/36239801p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]delano - she/her - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Most dragons that make their home at the Bridge of Seasons were never ordinary mortals. If they were mortal, they still possessed unusual magic. Delano, however, used to be just a dragon who found a swamp. Now, though, she is a swamp witch, at one with the murky waters and just as cold as the mud beneath. Some say she made a bargain with the swamp, and it cost her her soul.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24725908][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/247260/24725908p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]ecru - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Raised in fear of the dark, Ecru has blossomed into a full-fledged dream witch, a mistress of the witching hours. Once terrified of the night, she now makes it her home, using her magical skills to pass through and alter the dreams of others as they sleep. It is powerful magic, magic she cannot recall obtaining. There is a distinct gap in her memory, hazy like a dream, where that information should be.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35330895][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/353309/35330895p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]eolande - she/her - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Few dragons have seen Eolande, though they know she exists, often frequently the coven's lovingly tended gardens. Traces of her are everywhere in the form of glitter and glamours, concealing magic left heavy in her wake. Those who haven't encountered her know better than to thank her, and those who have must choose their words wisely in order to escape her presence unscathed.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50218937][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/502190/50218937p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]erathia - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Erathia is the first head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33635259][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/336353/33635259p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]farran - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A talented blacksmith, Farran came into his gift of iron magic when his home forge burned down in a tragic accident. He should not have survived, and some speculate he didn't at all, but the fact remains that his heart burns bright and his iron brighter. He and Shades are mates with a shared passion for their home flight and the act of invention.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=26346033][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/263461/26346033p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]fen - he/him - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Fen is a proud and ferocious hunter with bravery unmatched by all but a few. Once a foolhardy mortal, when he was killed by his quarry, the Bridge of Seasons granted him new life and new magic with its own mysterious strength. It requires sacrifices of him, but in return, he is allowed to come and go more freely than some, and this freedom allows him to hunt for the good of the coven.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35473664][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/354737/35473664p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]flamma - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Though a priestess of the Flamecaller, Flamma is a brave soul who instead follows the voice of the flames more than anything. The flames led her through the shadows of the Hewn City to find Nyx Coven, and guided her to her place at the Hewn Shrine. They also introduced her to her mate, Pur the gunslinger, igniting a romance she had never dreamed of having until then.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=52101440][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/521015/52101440p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]floros - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Floros is the ninth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25783761][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/257838/25783761p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]fulgur - they/them - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Fulgur serves the coven as its official link to the Stormcatcher, and they do so proudly. Efficiency is everything, even this far from the Shifting Expanse, and their upbringing has given them all the skills necessary to structure and execute the needs of the coven in a timely and effective manner. They reserve all their tenderness and flexibility for their mate, Teela.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=39739130][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/397392/39739130p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]ge - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]All Snappers are blessed with impressive memory, but Ge has been blessed with memory magic. She is capable of altering, creating, or removing memories, even those that are not her own, and uses her skills to help bring peace to troubled dragons. Her mate, Cespes, is her ready match in soft words and steadiness.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30279097][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/302791/30279097p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]gelus - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Gelus's past is fraught with justice, executed for better or for worse, and in Nyx Coven, he is both the Icewarden's priest and the queen's jailer. Criminal matters often fall to him, especially in the queen's absence, and the black, towering walls of the Hewn Shrine make a fine prison when the occasion calls for it. It is Nieva, his mate, who reminds him that justice need not be the only thing in the world.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13032666][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/130327/13032666p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]hiareth - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Hiareth has been a part of Nyx Coven almost since its foundation, the oldest resident besides Zera and Aethos. She has taken it upon herself, despite her lack of witchcraft, to protect the coven from harm, which usually entails patrolling the borders regularly. She claims to be without her Charge, but if her queen knew the truth, then Hiareth is unsure what would happen.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50361757][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/503618/50361757p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]ignadios - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Ignadios is the second head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44506908][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/445070/44506908p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]indivar - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Sericulture is more the domain of the Nature Flight, but Indivar is dedicated to practicing his craft in the Sunbeam Ruins. A patient and creative dragon, he is able to bring patterns to life in silk, and he treasures his silkworms dearly, guarding their secrets jealously. They are precious to him, and his craft is a source of enormous pride.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=42601802][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/426019/42601802p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]isani - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Isani is the sixth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31333133][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/313332/31333133p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]jordavit - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Ever since discovering his magic as a war witch, Jordavit has taken shelter in the Hall of Ages and its ever-shifting colonnades. He has wrought havoc on the innocent before, unable to reign his magic in, and only the power of the coven witches brings him comfort enough to sleep at night. At least in their company, if he fails to control his magic, they could overpower him quickly.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36592674][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/365927/36592674p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]keir - he/him - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Something of an apprentice to Vanamir, Keir is the coven's archivist, and he collects all the tales that Vanamir later organizes and rewrites to suit the coven's records. When he isn't interviewing coven residents and other nearby dragons to learn more about the area and its history, he can be found with his mate in the Cove Inn, often at sunrise and sunset.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38955291][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/389553/38955291p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]lianna - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Though she has no true magic, the way Lianna weaves words together is enchanting all on its own. She lives at the Cove Inn under Calypso's employ, and spends her days writing poems and reciting them to the resort's visitors. Often, when she is not on stage or engrossed in penning a new stanza, she can be found flying with her mate, Keir, over the sunlit waters of the cove.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33725471][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/337255/33725471p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]lohna - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Lohna was once an accomplished pirate with a supernatural sense for treasure, and a mermaid girlfriend named Mahri. However, a vicious storm separated her from her love and left her wandering in the Sunbeam Ruins, ship and crew mysteriously gone. She swears she feels the sea around every corner of the Hewn Shrine, and yet it never arrives. The next corner, though. The next will be the sea.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36808214][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/368083/36808214p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]loimos - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]The Plaguebringer does not look kindly on those that defy death, and though Loimos did not escape eternity by his own choice, he respects his deity's judgment and has moved far away. In Nyx Coven, he laments his resurrection, but offers his newfound bone magic as a healer, working alongside Pestilentia, his mate, in cases of extreme injury and illness.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33015310][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/330154/33015310p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]lucien - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Lucien is a kind soul with a magical gift for growing flowers from the slightest touch, and he uses his powers in order to pursue a botanical dream. His mate, Aurore, is often the recipient of the finer flowers he discovers, and he does his utmost to make sure the coven is always filled with a fresh and inviting scent.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24694441][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/246945/24694441p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]lux - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]As the priestess of the Lightweaver, Lux lives in the Hewn Shrine and tends to all its lights, ensuring the shrine is never completely dark. She is also a steward of truth, and guards the coven's historical records with her life. When she is not concerned with upholding her duties, though, she sometimes sneaks away to the Cove Inn to hear her mate sing, a sound she misses dearly.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49032953][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/490330/49032953p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]luzerot - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Luzerot is the eighth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32081568][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/320816/32081568p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]mahri - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]One of the few mermaids who can travel across land, albeit at the cost of her voice, Mahri lives among the coven in the Pyrrhic Vale, searching for her lost love, Lohna. They were separated in a vicious storm, and though Mahri has come this far, the trail has gone cold in the coven's vicinity. She is desperate to find Lohna again, and refuses to return to the sea again without her.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32426146][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/324262/32426146p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]masika - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A witch of incredible power, Masika was born with storms racing through her veins, and her home clan saw it as a sign of prosperity from the Stormcatcher himself. She has fled the life of an idol and the trappings of a pedestal to find peace and to control her powers as she pleases. In times of drought, she helps bring rain to the coven once more.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24807450][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/248075/24807450p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]mentha - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Mentha became a part of the coven before the Ages Era, saved from the wisps of the Tangled Wood by Zera. Their illusion magic brought her to the brink of death, perhaps over it, but now, fully healed, she is able to summon her own illusory magics to great effect. Since the coven saved her life, this usually means employing her magic as a concealment measure for the Hall of Ages.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41194824][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/411949/41194824p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]miran - they/them - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Most of the coven's witches stay close to the Hall of Ages, the seat of the coven's power, but Miran cannot bear to be parted from the sea. They have reserved full-time rooms at the Cove Inn by way of a deal with Calypso: if they make the tides gentle and safe for the cove, then they may keep their room indefinitely. It is an agreeable arrangement, and Miran is content with it.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=40335539][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/403356/40335539p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]mistraea - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Mistraea is the third head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43412113][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/434122/43412113p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]moria - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Unlike most of the coven residents, Moria is not a witch. She trusts in the strength of her blade and her natural elemental talents, channeled through her beloved sword. Despite urging from Hiareth to see more of the world, she has steadfastly attached herself to the coven as a devoted warrior. What force keeps her here is unknown, and her drive may not even be her own.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41666053][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/416661/41666053p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]muscat - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Muscat is the opposite of his mate, Cahaya. While they seek out oaths as they form, he traces the vows that have been broken. Revenge feels to him the same way magic feels to many of other coven witches, and he can trace it to its source without a second thought. It is a dangerous magic that threatens to consume him if he lets vengeance rule his head and heart both.[/columns]
profiles a-m
members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
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abyssana - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Abyssana is the fourth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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aella - she/her - the cove inn
Truly a daughter of the sky, Aella rarely has her feet on the ground longer than a moment. She prefers to be in her airship or flying beside it, accompanied by her crew as they tour Sornieth. When she does stop, it is at the Cove Inn, where she met and fell in love with Ventus, her mate. Their relationship has made her an honorary member of the coven. |
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aethos - he/him - the hall of origin
One of the two founding members of Nyx Coven, Aethos is the steadfast knight to his calculating queen. While his mate prefers to govern her coven through magic, he protects his own with his loyal heart and ready blade. He does possess some magic, allowing him to call inanimate objects to his aid, but he distrusts such a skill, and prefers to act with as little magic as possible. |
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animus - he/him - the hewn shrine
Formally a priest of the Arcanist, Animus is really more of a scientist, and he tends to use the Hewn Shrine as his personal lab despite the protests of his religious cohorts. His mate, Psyche, encourages his endeavors, though, as his patron deity is certainly fond of discovery. Additionally, he has unusually impressive skills in the realm of curse-breaking, a rare talent. |
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arcanaea - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Arcanaea is the eleventh head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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asha - she/her - the hall of ages
Most witches in the coven have control over single subtypes of magic. Asha, however, is something of a mystery, brimming with vast and unpredictable power that manifests as it pleases, well beyond her control. As a result, many fear her, but she finds solace in Thana, her mate. They are both more powerful than anyone wishes to admit, and find solace in one another. |
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asivos - he/him - the hall of ages
Not all coven members are witches. Asivos is one of the rare few without a magical gift. Instead, he is cursed by the light of the moon, a result of an impulsive dare and an ill-fated night in the Hewn City. His werewolf abilities are both blessing and curse, and he helps Hiareth protect the coven's borders in exchange for sanctuary and restraint during full moons. |
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aurore - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
While Aurore's mate, Lucien, uses his gifts to brighten the coven, Aurore uses hers to help it thrive in softer, more subtle ways. A witch of the heart, she can see love in all its forms, and helps to bring dragons closer when they most need one another. Her empathy helps to keep the coven steady and peaceful, though she is beginning to sense dark hearts on the horizon. |
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auryon - she/her - the cove inn
The shadiest corner of the Cove Inn is reserved for Auryon and her dealings. She trades in metals, especially rare ones, bringing in her goods from all corners of the world, and rumor has it, she turns a hefty profit for the good of the coven. Rumor also has it that the metal she sells is metal she could also wield at a moment's notice. No one has confirmed if she has such deadly magic. |
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ayumu - he/him - the hewn shrine
In life, Ayumu was one of the richest dragons around. He ruled the Hewn City with his towers of treasure, and over the years, the locals began to view him as something more than mortal. In the eons since, he has become a shade of his former wealth, and his city has crumbled to ruin around him. Nonetheless, he insists on his right to be recognized as its patron. |
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cahaya - they/them - the hall of ages
Cahaya sees what few dragons can: promises in the form of golden strings. These promises lace the floors of the Hall of Ages, and Cahaya is enchanted by every one. They can feel the magic pulsing in the Hall, and they are certain that somewhere within the shifting corridors lie great secrets and greater oaths, the kind their magic is made to make or break. |
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calypso - she/her - the cove inn
Without magical gifts, Calypso has never felt at home in Nyx Coven, and prefers to keep to her resort instead, running it with her shrewd business know-how. She also keeps an eye on the sharks that are her Charge from there, ready to defend the cove until her last breath. Only her mate Pontus has managed to lower her natural defenses, and she loves him dearly. |
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caoimhe - she/her - the cove inn
Inexplicably tied to both the land and sea, Caoimhe lives close to the Cove Inn, acting as guardian of the nearby delta allowing inland passage. She is difficult to predict and hard to find, making her more rumor than resident to dragons who don't know better. Those who have been around the Cove Inn long enough, though, know that Caoimhe and the shore cannot be parted. |
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celosia - she/her - the bridge of seasons
Celosia is one with the trees more so than any dragon who lives under the Bridge of Seasons's thrall. She is their welcome sister, and converses with them regularly, marshaling them to protect the Bridge. The alliance with Nyx Coven makes her wary, and she has prepared her beloved trees for any hint of treachery or violence. Celosia protects her own. |
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cephas - they/them - the bridge of seasons
All magic must have a source, even the mysterious Bridge of Seasons, which appears to operate according to its own accord. But in the heart of the Bridge lies a dormant spirit of immense power: Cephas. It is a lucky thing they have slumbered for so long, because the power they might unleash when they awaken could be catastrophic if not handled properly. |
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cerra - she/her - the bridge of seasons
If the Bridge of Seasons is an hourglass, Cerra is the sand within. She was among the first to find the Bridge, to be trapped by it, and she has never been able to escape it, even with her raging sand magic battering away at its barriers. With her own life forfeit to the Bridge, she guards it, prepared to warn all who might dare to cross it that they are in grave danger. |
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cespes - he/him - the hewn shrine
As the ever-patient priest of the Earthshaker, Cespes is the welcoming force at the doors of the Hewn Shrine. He is also the confidant of many, accepting religious confessions if a specific deity's representative is not requested. When he isn't attending to his priestly duties, he is often found strolling with Ge, his mate, and reminiscing at length. |
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chiara - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
No more than a ghost to most residents of the Vale, Chiara has existed among the bloodthirsty flowers since the ages of war that gave the land its grim history. She was once a medic in those vicious conflicts, and in her afterlife, she offers her knowledge and compassion to healers among the living. It is the least she can do, still trapped in this world. |
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dantalion - he/him - the bridge of seasons
Dantalion is one of the few dragons able to the Bridge of Seasons at will, and this is probably due to his strange map witch magics. Able to contort any map to better suit the landscape, or any landscape to better suit the map, he has a keen sense of direction. He has a keen sense of greed, too, and regularly charges tourists for directions, then hides his payment away somewhere secret and safe. |
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delano - she/her - the bridge of seasons
Most dragons that make their home at the Bridge of Seasons were never ordinary mortals. If they were mortal, they still possessed unusual magic. Delano, however, used to be just a dragon who found a swamp. Now, though, she is a swamp witch, at one with the murky waters and just as cold as the mud beneath. Some say she made a bargain with the swamp, and it cost her her soul. |
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ecru - she/her - the hall of ages
Raised in fear of the dark, Ecru has blossomed into a full-fledged dream witch, a mistress of the witching hours. Once terrified of the night, she now makes it her home, using her magical skills to pass through and alter the dreams of others as they sleep. It is powerful magic, magic she cannot recall obtaining. There is a distinct gap in her memory, hazy like a dream, where that information should be. |
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eolande - she/her - the bridge of seasons
Few dragons have seen Eolande, though they know she exists, often frequently the coven's lovingly tended gardens. Traces of her are everywhere in the form of glitter and glamours, concealing magic left heavy in her wake. Those who haven't encountered her know better than to thank her, and those who have must choose their words wisely in order to escape her presence unscathed. |
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erathia - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Erathia is the first head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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farran - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A talented blacksmith, Farran came into his gift of iron magic when his home forge burned down in a tragic accident. He should not have survived, and some speculate he didn't at all, but the fact remains that his heart burns bright and his iron brighter. He and Shades are mates with a shared passion for their home flight and the act of invention. |
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fen - he/him - the bridge of seasons
Fen is a proud and ferocious hunter with bravery unmatched by all but a few. Once a foolhardy mortal, when he was killed by his quarry, the Bridge of Seasons granted him new life and new magic with its own mysterious strength. It requires sacrifices of him, but in return, he is allowed to come and go more freely than some, and this freedom allows him to hunt for the good of the coven. |
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flamma - she/her - the hewn shrine
Though a priestess of the Flamecaller, Flamma is a brave soul who instead follows the voice of the flames more than anything. The flames led her through the shadows of the Hewn City to find Nyx Coven, and guided her to her place at the Hewn Shrine. They also introduced her to her mate, Pur the gunslinger, igniting a romance she had never dreamed of having until then. |
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floros - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Floros is the ninth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown. |
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fulgur - they/them - the hewn shrine
Fulgur serves the coven as its official link to the Stormcatcher, and they do so proudly. Efficiency is everything, even this far from the Shifting Expanse, and their upbringing has given them all the skills necessary to structure and execute the needs of the coven in a timely and effective manner. They reserve all their tenderness and flexibility for their mate, Teela. |
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ge - she/her - the hall of ages
All Snappers are blessed with impressive memory, but Ge has been blessed with memory magic. She is capable of altering, creating, or removing memories, even those that are not her own, and uses her skills to help bring peace to troubled dragons. Her mate, Cespes, is her ready match in soft words and steadiness. |
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gelus - he/him - the hewn shrine
Gelus's past is fraught with justice, executed for better or for worse, and in Nyx Coven, he is both the Icewarden's priest and the queen's jailer. Criminal matters often fall to him, especially in the queen's absence, and the black, towering walls of the Hewn Shrine make a fine prison when the occasion calls for it. It is Nieva, his mate, who reminds him that justice need not be the only thing in the world. |
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hiareth - she/her - the hall of origin
Hiareth has been a part of Nyx Coven almost since its foundation, the oldest resident besides Zera and Aethos. She has taken it upon herself, despite her lack of witchcraft, to protect the coven from harm, which usually entails patrolling the borders regularly. She claims to be without her Charge, but if her queen knew the truth, then Hiareth is unsure what would happen. |
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ignadios - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Ignadios is the second head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown. |
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indivar - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
Sericulture is more the domain of the Nature Flight, but Indivar is dedicated to practicing his craft in the Sunbeam Ruins. A patient and creative dragon, he is able to bring patterns to life in silk, and he treasures his silkworms dearly, guarding their secrets jealously. They are precious to him, and his craft is a source of enormous pride. |
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isani - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Isani is the sixth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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jordavit - he/him - the hall of ages
Ever since discovering his magic as a war witch, Jordavit has taken shelter in the Hall of Ages and its ever-shifting colonnades. He has wrought havoc on the innocent before, unable to reign his magic in, and only the power of the coven witches brings him comfort enough to sleep at night. At least in their company, if he fails to control his magic, they could overpower him quickly. |
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keir - he/him - the cove inn
Something of an apprentice to Vanamir, Keir is the coven's archivist, and he collects all the tales that Vanamir later organizes and rewrites to suit the coven's records. When he isn't interviewing coven residents and other nearby dragons to learn more about the area and its history, he can be found with his mate in the Cove Inn, often at sunrise and sunset. |
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lianna - she/her - the cove inn
Though she has no true magic, the way Lianna weaves words together is enchanting all on its own. She lives at the Cove Inn under Calypso's employ, and spends her days writing poems and reciting them to the resort's visitors. Often, when she is not on stage or engrossed in penning a new stanza, she can be found flying with her mate, Keir, over the sunlit waters of the cove. |
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lohna - she/her - the hewn shrine
Lohna was once an accomplished pirate with a supernatural sense for treasure, and a mermaid girlfriend named Mahri. However, a vicious storm separated her from her love and left her wandering in the Sunbeam Ruins, ship and crew mysteriously gone. She swears she feels the sea around every corner of the Hewn Shrine, and yet it never arrives. The next corner, though. The next will be the sea. |
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loimos - he/him - the hall of ages
The Plaguebringer does not look kindly on those that defy death, and though Loimos did not escape eternity by his own choice, he respects his deity's judgment and has moved far away. In Nyx Coven, he laments his resurrection, but offers his newfound bone magic as a healer, working alongside Pestilentia, his mate, in cases of extreme injury and illness. |
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lucien - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
Lucien is a kind soul with a magical gift for growing flowers from the slightest touch, and he uses his powers in order to pursue a botanical dream. His mate, Aurore, is often the recipient of the finer flowers he discovers, and he does his utmost to make sure the coven is always filled with a fresh and inviting scent. |
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lux - she/her - the hewn shrine
As the priestess of the Lightweaver, Lux lives in the Hewn Shrine and tends to all its lights, ensuring the shrine is never completely dark. She is also a steward of truth, and guards the coven's historical records with her life. When she is not concerned with upholding her duties, though, she sometimes sneaks away to the Cove Inn to hear her mate sing, a sound she misses dearly. |
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luzerot - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Luzerot is the eighth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown. |
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mahri - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
One of the few mermaids who can travel across land, albeit at the cost of her voice, Mahri lives among the coven in the Pyrrhic Vale, searching for her lost love, Lohna. They were separated in a vicious storm, and though Mahri has come this far, the trail has gone cold in the coven's vicinity. She is desperate to find Lohna again, and refuses to return to the sea again without her. |
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masika - she/her - the hall of ages
A witch of incredible power, Masika was born with storms racing through her veins, and her home clan saw it as a sign of prosperity from the Stormcatcher himself. She has fled the life of an idol and the trappings of a pedestal to find peace and to control her powers as she pleases. In times of drought, she helps bring rain to the coven once more. |
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mentha - she/her - the hall of origin
Mentha became a part of the coven before the Ages Era, saved from the wisps of the Tangled Wood by Zera. Their illusion magic brought her to the brink of death, perhaps over it, but now, fully healed, she is able to summon her own illusory magics to great effect. Since the coven saved her life, this usually means employing her magic as a concealment measure for the Hall of Ages. |
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miran - they/them - the cove inn
Most of the coven's witches stay close to the Hall of Ages, the seat of the coven's power, but Miran cannot bear to be parted from the sea. They have reserved full-time rooms at the Cove Inn by way of a deal with Calypso: if they make the tides gentle and safe for the cove, then they may keep their room indefinitely. It is an agreeable arrangement, and Miran is content with it. |
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mistraea - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Mistraea is the third head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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moria - she/her - the hall of ages
Unlike most of the coven residents, Moria is not a witch. She trusts in the strength of her blade and her natural elemental talents, channeled through her beloved sword. Despite urging from Hiareth to see more of the world, she has steadfastly attached herself to the coven as a devoted warrior. What force keeps her here is unknown, and her drive may not even be her own. |
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muscat - he/him - the hall of ages
Muscat is the opposite of his mate, Cahaya. While they seek out oaths as they form, he traces the vows that have been broken. Revenge feels to him the same way magic feels to many of other coven witches, and he can trace it to its source without a second thought. It is a dangerous magic that threatens to consume him if he lets vengeance rule his head and heart both. |
[center][font=franklin gothic][size=4][b][color=#210000]p[/color][color=#2F1414]r[/color][color=#3E2828]o[/color][color=#4D3D3D]f[/color][color=#5C5151]i[/color][color=#6B6565]l[/color][color=#797979]e[/color][color=#6B6565]s[/color] [color=#4D3D3D]n[/color][color=#3E2828]-[/color][color=#2F1414]z[/color][/b][/size]
members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13684401][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/136845/13684401p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]nathan - he/him - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Once a soldier devoted to his men, Nathan has become a peaceful plant witch, tending to the coven gardens all day long. His battle injuries have left him disinterested in warfare, and his love shared with Verity, his mate, has left him wholly invested in sustainable peace. With his pleasant demeanor, he has brought many younger witches under his wing as something of a father figure.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41985149][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/419852/41985149p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]natura - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Natura has served the Gladekeeper for as long as she can remember, devoting her entire life to the worship of her home flight's patron deity. In the Hewn Shrine, she tends to blessed plots of land, and outside it, she distributes blessings of life and growth to the local population. She also appears to have won Zera's confidence, and can be found with the queen, planning for the future wealth and well-being of the coven.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33598666][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/335987/33598666p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]nieva - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Despite her snow magics, Nieva is a warm soul, brimming with compassion and patience. Raised in the harsh Southern Icefields, she believes in the power of kindness and unity to weather the worst storms, and uses her gentle words to help the coven more often than her witchcraft. Her sense of mercy is a fine counterbalance to her mate's sense of justice.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35737842][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/357379/35737842p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]oriel - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Oriel has inhabited the Pyrrhic Vale for millennia, it seems, back to the days when the flowers were red with blood and burnt by war. She wanders her old stomping grounds now, challenging any who aim to do harm to her vale, and guarding it fiercely from outsiders she deems unworthy. The coven, she finds, is both a curiosity and a threat.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36798463][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/367985/36798463p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]pestilentia - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]While Loimos, her mate, focuses his efforts on healing, Pestilentia uses her connection with the Plaguebringer to not only heal, but to better understand the relationship between magic and death in the coven. She suspects something strange is afoot, and can be found deep in the Hewn Shrine at all hours, trying to unravel the witches' secrets.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33489174][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/334892/33489174p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]photios - he/him - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Photios's song magic has blessed him with a beautiful voice and an impeccable ear for music, but chance has cursed him with a fear of the unknown and the dead both. Since he believes his music was involved in the raising of the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins, he is afraid to share it, and hides away in the isolated Cove Inn. His mate, Lux, misses his presence and his soft voice.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49884181][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/498842/49884181p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]physis - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]While her mate tours the Sunbeam Ruins, bringing the blessings of the Gladekeeper to those in need, Physis stays at home, acting as the local herbalist. She specializes in potions and poultices, and the den she shares with Natura has herbs dangling in leafy chains from the rafters, filling the air with a heady, earthy scent. By now, those, Physis is accustomed to the smell, and often forgets to warn her visitors.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=42379755][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/423798/42379755p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]plagelion - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Plagelion is the tenth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32511662][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/325117/32511662p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]pontus - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Formerly a mariner, Pontus is the coven's direct link to the Tidelord and the resident augur. He deals in omens more so than prophecy, providing guidance in the form of nebulous advice, but he loves his god dearly, and acts always in good faith. Unlike his mate, Calypso, though, he is not content with coven life, and longs to return to the seas where he was born.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36061318][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/360614/36061318p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]psyche - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]With the ability to open pockets of space and slip inside of them, Psyche has a tendency to startle other witches of the coven by appearing at what seems to be random. Really, though, she prefers the efficiency of traveling through the void, and shares the same joy of discovery her mate, Animus, possesses. The void is an astonishing place, filled with countless wonders worth exploring.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=37758398][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/377584/37758398p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]pur - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]It seems that there is no short of justice in the Pyrrhic Vale long after its brutal wars have ended. Pur is one of the many who wander its flowery fields, prepared to bring righteous in full force to those unwilling to respect the course of the world. It worries his mate, Flamma, that he is so casual about the deadly profession he chose, but someone must stand for justice.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=45019398][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/450194/45019398p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]rahim - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]While most of the witches are able to prepare their own meals, Rahim takes a special delight in acting as the coven cook. He knows hunger better than most, as his magic deals in bounty and famine both, and he holds it to be a universal truth that no one should lack for filling meals. Some of his dishes are rather unconventional, but there is no denying the heart and soul he pours into his culinary pursuits.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38792704][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/387928/38792704p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]rania - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A witch with a curious set of magics, Rania is able to control the luck in the world, though at the cost of immense physical strain whenever she challenges great odds. She was taken in by the coven after exhausting herself to save her own life from bandits, and though she has enjoyed her stay, everyday she worries the queen will collect on the debt Rania owes, asking for impossible luck.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13248806][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/132489/13248806p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]rishia - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Rishia is the coven's seer, blessed with the Tidelord's great gift. Her sight is inclined towards glimpses of the future, which she attempts to use to the coven's advantage, though she cannot be certain how far into the future she sees. When not exercising her sight, she weaves mantles and other garments for sale to nearby clans with the help of her Tigerblood Foo.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41560872][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/415609/41560872p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]rivin - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Rivin may be young and optimistic, but he is hardly a fool. He knows the world can be dark and cold, and does his utmost to bring warmth and peace. Conflict upsets him terribly, and he is grateful that his magic is so conducive to conflict resolution. He is also grateful for Titaia, his mate, and the calm way she wields the fire magic she possesses; she brings him the greatest joy.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38418909][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/384190/38418909p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]roana - she/her - the cove inn[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Roana's magic may be comparatively harmless when stacked up against the magics of the coven's other witches, but she doesn't mind. The ability to enchant sugar and bake better desserts than anyone else is plenty for her, and she has lent Calypso her talents at the Cove Inn, providing a great deal of baked goods. Hungry dragons can always count on her when they need a hot and delicious meal.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=12982340][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/129824/12982340p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]rynka - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]An alchemist of great and perhaps magical talent, Rynka grew up in the Sunbeam Ruins, always searching for something more. She traveled the world for a while in pursuit of various research topics, and when she signed on as the coven's official alchemist, she centralized her work and became Shades's roommate. Together, they have made many things explode.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35870803][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/358709/35870803p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]saoirse - she/her - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]As long as she can remember, Saoirse has been tied to the Bridge of Seasons, unable to leave. She has also been host to something dark and dangerous, something she does not understand. It taxes her strength every day to hold the dark back, and she relies heavily on the astounding power of Cerra to stave off the shadows.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35341961][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/353420/35341961p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]sarahi - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Under the light-polluted skies of the Sunbeam Ruins, it is a difficult place for a star witch to tap into the full extent of her magics. Nonetheless, Sarahi remains in the Lightweaver's domain. She claims to have business in her homeland, business of the unfinished sort, and she has been known to disappear into the heart of the Hewn City for days on end, never telling a soul of her intent.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38788032][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/387881/38788032p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]sela - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]The Tidelord's prophecies once interfered so greatly with Sela's life that she fled her god and her home, finding great danger along the way. In the act of saving a life, she lost her own and was turned to stone and lost at sea until she washed up at the Cove Inn. Rescued and found to be alive by Calypso, she has taken up residence at the Hall of Ages, where she hopes to remove her new magics.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41807826][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/418079/41807826p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]senka - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Most dragons steer well clear of Senka and her blackened claws. She strikes fear even in the hearts of the brave, shrouded in smoke and heavy furs. No one has ever seen her actively working her magic, which is rumored to be tied to the Shade itself, but the heavy air around her is undeniable; she is an immensely powerful magical being, and to cross her would be deeply unwise.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=11587530][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/115876/11587530p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]shades - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Well known for his rather explosive creations, Shades lives in the Pyrrhic Vale and produces all manner of items for the coven's use. A tinkerer at heart, almost everything he invents has gone through a number of prototypes, most of which have smoked out a room at some point. His mate, Farran, lovingly puts up with Shades's volatile pursuits.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=50950917][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/509510/50950917p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]shaidon - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Shaidon is the fifth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38263278][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/382633/38263278p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]shinsha - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Shinsha is a lively witch, never without a spring in her step and a kind word at hand. She speaks little of the events that made her a witch, only that she was turned into a Fae through such magics, and instead focuses on encouraging growth of all kinds. Plants she leaves to Nathan, but personal growth and other growths are well within her magical domain, and she meddles often.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36299660][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/362997/36299660p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]shiri - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]As long as anyone can remember, Shiri has been at Zera's side, existing as the queen's faithful shadow. She is the only dragon to walk unafraid when still times come, braving the unsettling moments with an unflappable grace. However, no one can recall when they first met Shiri, or if she has even spoken to anyone but the queen.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38435356][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/384354/38435356p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]skia - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Like her mate, Umbra, Skia is skilled in telling the fortunes of other dragons, though she prefers a crystal ball to cards. She also prefers to avoid gazing into the future, a tricky practice even without her unsettling history of foggy futures and half truths. The future, she says, is unsteady, ever-changing. To glimpse it is to know too much.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38335456][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/383355/38335456p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]sorley - he/him - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A firm believer in the adage that the journey is more important than the destination, Sorley takes great pride in his witchcraft, which allows him to advise others on the paths that lie before them. It's been less than beneficial to his own well-being, sure, but he maintains that it can be used for good, especially in an unpredictable place like the Bridge of Seasons.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49107502][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/491076/49107502p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]stormaeva - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]A monstrosity of the worst kind, Stormaeva is the seventh head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=16108186][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/161082/16108186p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]sunbeam - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Sunbeam has been a longstanding member of a coven, a glass witch with impressive natural talent. She has always been the one to brighten the coven's living spaces with her fragile creations, and to offer advice in all realms, from war to love and everything in between. Some dragons fear her, though, and the way she collects secrets, as if she intends to use them, not keep them.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33864057][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/338641/33864057p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]taranis - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Taranis was once a prince of the Southern Icefields, heir to an expanding empire, but his talents as a summoner cost him his crown. He brought something from the deep by accident, too young to know better, and it ravaged his homeland, too difficult to control. Nyx Coven affords him protection from both the survivors of his kingdom and the monsters of the deep that haunt him still.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34210741][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/342108/34210741p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]teela - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Dragons without magic tend to avoid the coven, but Teela has embraced it wholeheartedly. Even witches need a mechanic after all, and she prefers the loose time frames of the coven far more than the strict assembly lines found in the Shifting Expanse. She also adores her mate, Fulgur, and keeps them company in the long nights in the Hewn Shrine, a place few dare to tread.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=16573396][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/165734/16573396p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]thana - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Thana is one of the coven's more mysterious presences. She keeps largely to herself and rarely speaks unless spoken to. This is a result of her curse, in which she cannot lie no matter how much she wishes to. It is also a byproduct of her blood magic, which most witches dread, even with their own magical protections. Only Asha, her bold mate, does not view her as a force to be feared.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38905531][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/389056/38905531p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]titaia - she/her - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Fire magic is difficult to wield, but Titaia is a budding prodigy. She has a natural aptitude for the flame, and has outstripped even the queen's steady (though basic) control of fire despite her young age. Her confidence seems to come from recognition that her magic remains dangerous, even when she manipulates it. Her mate, Rivin, though, thinks that she need not worry about losing control.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=30975533][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/309756/30975533p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]umbra - she/her - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Serving as the official representative of the Shadowbinder, Umbra lives and works in the Hewn Shrine, telling fortunes from the cards. She has been charged with examining the past, present, and future of all dragons wishing to join the coven in order to protect her home from ill will, a task which requires a great deal of focus. Sometimes, exhausted, she finds the shadows of the shrine to be taller than ever.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19649216][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/196493/19649216p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]vanamir - he/him - the hall of ages[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Fastidious in the extreme, Vanamir has taken it upon himself to serve as the coven's scribe. His ability to enchant ink allows him to write a great deal more than most dragons, and his detail-oriented nature allows him to uncover all manner of information worthy of recording. It also means that the written word is his weapon, and he has wielded it effectively more than once.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31828293][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/318283/31828293p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]ventus - he/him - the hewn shrine[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Most of the religious figures of the coven tend to stay close to the imposing walls of the Hewn Shrine, but Ventus shares the Windsinger's good word as it is best heard: in motion. He travels far and wide through the coven's territory and sometimes beyond it, preaching and offering his energy and kindness to those in need. Sometimes, he accompanies his mate, Aella, on her delivery runs.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=42528491][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/425285/42528491p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]verene - she/her - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Verene can usually be found deep in the forest by the Hewn Shrine, where few souls dare to tread. She is a capable, knowledgeable forager who has the keen mind necessary to combat the forest's horrors, and the courage and greed both necessary to scavenge for rare plants among the shadowy trees. She only does business at night, on account of her appearance, changed from so long in the dark.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13281350][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/132814/13281350p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]verity - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Long ago, and in a different time, Verity was a bookseller in the Shifting Expanse. A series of extraordinary events, though, awakened her magic and sent her hurtling through the eras to the time in which she found her mate, Nathan, and fell deeply in love. Their connection has served as an anchor for the coven for years, and has kept them together through great tragedies beyond their control.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43544220][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/435443/43544220p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]vitomir - he/him - the pyrrhic vale[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Exile is a long and lonely road, but so far, Vitomir has adapted. Scorned by his kingdom, more princeling than proper prince, he has taken to wandering the lands that surround those he was raised in. Perhaps if he comes to understand the world at large, he will again be worthy of the throne. But perhaps there is something darker afoot, something he cannot hope to overcome.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=33589391][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/335894/33589391p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]xerxes - he/him - the bridge of seasons[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]Quite literally the ghost of the dragon he was before, Xerxes is a fallen warrior dating back to the days when the Pyrrhic Vale was a vicious, bloody battlefield. He searches constantly for his fallen fellows, and wonders what gods have allowed him to live so long, unaware he has already died. For some reason, he reliably returns to the Bridge of Seasons each morning when the dawn returns.[/columns]
[columns][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13284435][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/132845/13284435p.png[/img][/url] [nextcol] [center][font=franklin gothic][b]zera - she/her - the hall of origin[/b]
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[font=franklin gothic]The coven queen, and a force to be reckoned with. She has survived witch hunts and burning at the stake only to come out the otherside stronger than before. Her coven believes her to be religious, but she has actually turned her back on the Shadowbinder for personal reasons. Her mate is Aethos, the coven co-founder, and her closest confidant is Hiareth, the sentinel.[/columns]
profiles n-z
members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
members of the coven in abbreviated glory. to read more, click their portraits to be taken to their bios.
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nathan - he/him - the hall of origin
Once a soldier devoted to his men, Nathan has become a peaceful plant witch, tending to the coven gardens all day long. His battle injuries have left him disinterested in warfare, and his love shared with Verity, his mate, has left him wholly invested in sustainable peace. With his pleasant demeanor, he has brought many younger witches under his wing as something of a father figure. |
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natura - she/her - the hewn shrine
Natura has served the Gladekeeper for as long as she can remember, devoting her entire life to the worship of her home flight's patron deity. In the Hewn Shrine, she tends to blessed plots of land, and outside it, she distributes blessings of life and growth to the local population. She also appears to have won Zera's confidence, and can be found with the queen, planning for the future wealth and well-being of the coven. |
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nieva - she/her - the hall of ages
Despite her snow magics, Nieva is a warm soul, brimming with compassion and patience. Raised in the harsh Southern Icefields, she believes in the power of kindness and unity to weather the worst storms, and uses her gentle words to help the coven more often than her witchcraft. Her sense of mercy is a fine counterbalance to her mate's sense of justice. |
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oriel - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
Oriel has inhabited the Pyrrhic Vale for millennia, it seems, back to the days when the flowers were red with blood and burnt by war. She wanders her old stomping grounds now, challenging any who aim to do harm to her vale, and guarding it fiercely from outsiders she deems unworthy. The coven, she finds, is both a curiosity and a threat. |
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pestilentia - she/her - the hewn shrine
While Loimos, her mate, focuses his efforts on healing, Pestilentia uses her connection with the Plaguebringer to not only heal, but to better understand the relationship between magic and death in the coven. She suspects something strange is afoot, and can be found deep in the Hewn Shrine at all hours, trying to unravel the witches' secrets. |
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photios - he/him - the cove inn
Photios's song magic has blessed him with a beautiful voice and an impeccable ear for music, but chance has cursed him with a fear of the unknown and the dead both. Since he believes his music was involved in the raising of the Emperor ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins, he is afraid to share it, and hides away in the isolated Cove Inn. His mate, Lux, misses his presence and his soft voice. |
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physis - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
While her mate tours the Sunbeam Ruins, bringing the blessings of the Gladekeeper to those in need, Physis stays at home, acting as the local herbalist. She specializes in potions and poultices, and the den she shares with Natura has herbs dangling in leafy chains from the rafters, filling the air with a heady, earthy scent. By now, those, Physis is accustomed to the smell, and often forgets to warn her visitors. |
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plagelion - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Plagelion is the tenth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown. |
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pontus - he/him - the hewn shrine
Formerly a mariner, Pontus is the coven's direct link to the Tidelord and the resident augur. He deals in omens more so than prophecy, providing guidance in the form of nebulous advice, but he loves his god dearly, and acts always in good faith. Unlike his mate, Calypso, though, he is not content with coven life, and longs to return to the seas where he was born. |
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psyche - she/her - the hall of ages
With the ability to open pockets of space and slip inside of them, Psyche has a tendency to startle other witches of the coven by appearing at what seems to be random. Really, though, she prefers the efficiency of traveling through the void, and shares the same joy of discovery her mate, Animus, possesses. The void is an astonishing place, filled with countless wonders worth exploring. |
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pur - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
It seems that there is no short of justice in the Pyrrhic Vale long after its brutal wars have ended. Pur is one of the many who wander its flowery fields, prepared to bring righteous in full force to those unwilling to respect the course of the world. It worries his mate, Flamma, that he is so casual about the deadly profession he chose, but someone must stand for justice. |
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rahim - he/him - the hall of ages
While most of the witches are able to prepare their own meals, Rahim takes a special delight in acting as the coven cook. He knows hunger better than most, as his magic deals in bounty and famine both, and he holds it to be a universal truth that no one should lack for filling meals. Some of his dishes are rather unconventional, but there is no denying the heart and soul he pours into his culinary pursuits. |
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rania - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A witch with a curious set of magics, Rania is able to control the luck in the world, though at the cost of immense physical strain whenever she challenges great odds. She was taken in by the coven after exhausting herself to save her own life from bandits, and though she has enjoyed her stay, everyday she worries the queen will collect on the debt Rania owes, asking for impossible luck. |
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rishia - she/her - the hall of origin
Rishia is the coven's seer, blessed with the Tidelord's great gift. Her sight is inclined towards glimpses of the future, which she attempts to use to the coven's advantage, though she cannot be certain how far into the future she sees. When not exercising her sight, she weaves mantles and other garments for sale to nearby clans with the help of her Tigerblood Foo. |
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rivin - he/him - the hall of ages
Rivin may be young and optimistic, but he is hardly a fool. He knows the world can be dark and cold, and does his utmost to bring warmth and peace. Conflict upsets him terribly, and he is grateful that his magic is so conducive to conflict resolution. He is also grateful for Titaia, his mate, and the calm way she wields the fire magic she possesses; she brings him the greatest joy. |
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roana - she/her - the cove inn
Roana's magic may be comparatively harmless when stacked up against the magics of the coven's other witches, but she doesn't mind. The ability to enchant sugar and bake better desserts than anyone else is plenty for her, and she has lent Calypso her talents at the Cove Inn, providing a great deal of baked goods. Hungry dragons can always count on her when they need a hot and delicious meal. |
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rynka - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
An alchemist of great and perhaps magical talent, Rynka grew up in the Sunbeam Ruins, always searching for something more. She traveled the world for a while in pursuit of various research topics, and when she signed on as the coven's official alchemist, she centralized her work and became Shades's roommate. Together, they have made many things explode. |
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saoirse - she/her - the bridge of seasons
As long as she can remember, Saoirse has been tied to the Bridge of Seasons, unable to leave. She has also been host to something dark and dangerous, something she does not understand. It taxes her strength every day to hold the dark back, and she relies heavily on the astounding power of Cerra to stave off the shadows. |
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sarahi - she/her - the hall of ages
Under the light-polluted skies of the Sunbeam Ruins, it is a difficult place for a star witch to tap into the full extent of her magics. Nonetheless, Sarahi remains in the Lightweaver's domain. She claims to have business in her homeland, business of the unfinished sort, and she has been known to disappear into the heart of the Hewn City for days on end, never telling a soul of her intent. |
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sela - she/her - the hall of ages
The Tidelord's prophecies once interfered so greatly with Sela's life that she fled her god and her home, finding great danger along the way. In the act of saving a life, she lost her own and was turned to stone and lost at sea until she washed up at the Cove Inn. Rescued and found to be alive by Calypso, she has taken up residence at the Hall of Ages, where she hopes to remove her new magics. |
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senka - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
Most dragons steer well clear of Senka and her blackened claws. She strikes fear even in the hearts of the brave, shrouded in smoke and heavy furs. No one has ever seen her actively working her magic, which is rumored to be tied to the Shade itself, but the heavy air around her is undeniable; she is an immensely powerful magical being, and to cross her would be deeply unwise. |
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shades - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
Well known for his rather explosive creations, Shades lives in the Pyrrhic Vale and produces all manner of items for the coven's use. A tinkerer at heart, almost everything he invents has gone through a number of prototypes, most of which have smoked out a room at some point. His mate, Farran, lovingly puts up with Shades's volatile pursuits. |
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shaidon - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Shaidon is the fifth head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. His history remains entirely unknown. |
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shinsha - she/her - the hall of ages
Shinsha is a lively witch, never without a spring in her step and a kind word at hand. She speaks little of the events that made her a witch, only that she was turned into a Fae through such magics, and instead focuses on encouraging growth of all kinds. Plants she leaves to Nathan, but personal growth and other growths are well within her magical domain, and she meddles often. |
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shiri - she/her - the hall of ages
As long as anyone can remember, Shiri has been at Zera's side, existing as the queen's faithful shadow. She is the only dragon to walk unafraid when still times come, braving the unsettling moments with an unflappable grace. However, no one can recall when they first met Shiri, or if she has even spoken to anyone but the queen. |
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skia - she/her - the hall of ages
Like her mate, Umbra, Skia is skilled in telling the fortunes of other dragons, though she prefers a crystal ball to cards. She also prefers to avoid gazing into the future, a tricky practice even without her unsettling history of foggy futures and half truths. The future, she says, is unsteady, ever-changing. To glimpse it is to know too much. |
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sorley - he/him - the bridge of seasons
A firm believer in the adage that the journey is more important than the destination, Sorley takes great pride in his witchcraft, which allows him to advise others on the paths that lie before them. It's been less than beneficial to his own well-being, sure, but he maintains that it can be used for good, especially in an unpredictable place like the Bridge of Seasons. |
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stormaeva - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
A monstrosity of the worst kind, Stormaeva is the seventh head of the Emperor that terrorizes the coven and other clans in the Lightweaver's domain. Her history remains entirely unknown. |
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sunbeam - she/her - the hall of origin
Sunbeam has been a longstanding member of a coven, a glass witch with impressive natural talent. She has always been the one to brighten the coven's living spaces with her fragile creations, and to offer advice in all realms, from war to love and everything in between. Some dragons fear her, though, and the way she collects secrets, as if she intends to use them, not keep them. |
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taranis - he/him - the hall of ages
Taranis was once a prince of the Southern Icefields, heir to an expanding empire, but his talents as a summoner cost him his crown. He brought something from the deep by accident, too young to know better, and it ravaged his homeland, too difficult to control. Nyx Coven affords him protection from both the survivors of his kingdom and the monsters of the deep that haunt him still. |
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teela - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
Dragons without magic tend to avoid the coven, but Teela has embraced it wholeheartedly. Even witches need a mechanic after all, and she prefers the loose time frames of the coven far more than the strict assembly lines found in the Shifting Expanse. She also adores her mate, Fulgur, and keeps them company in the long nights in the Hewn Shrine, a place few dare to tread. |
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thana - she/her - the hall of origin
Thana is one of the coven's more mysterious presences. She keeps largely to herself and rarely speaks unless spoken to. This is a result of her curse, in which she cannot lie no matter how much she wishes to. It is also a byproduct of her blood magic, which most witches dread, even with their own magical protections. Only Asha, her bold mate, does not view her as a force to be feared. |
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titaia - she/her - the hall of ages
Fire magic is difficult to wield, but Titaia is a budding prodigy. She has a natural aptitude for the flame, and has outstripped even the queen's steady (though basic) control of fire despite her young age. Her confidence seems to come from recognition that her magic remains dangerous, even when she manipulates it. Her mate, Rivin, though, thinks that she need not worry about losing control. |
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umbra - she/her - the hewn shrine
Serving as the official representative of the Shadowbinder, Umbra lives and works in the Hewn Shrine, telling fortunes from the cards. She has been charged with examining the past, present, and future of all dragons wishing to join the coven in order to protect her home from ill will, a task which requires a great deal of focus. Sometimes, exhausted, she finds the shadows of the shrine to be taller than ever. |
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vanamir - he/him - the hall of ages
Fastidious in the extreme, Vanamir has taken it upon himself to serve as the coven's scribe. His ability to enchant ink allows him to write a great deal more than most dragons, and his detail-oriented nature allows him to uncover all manner of information worthy of recording. It also means that the written word is his weapon, and he has wielded it effectively more than once. |
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ventus - he/him - the hewn shrine
Most of the religious figures of the coven tend to stay close to the imposing walls of the Hewn Shrine, but Ventus shares the Windsinger's good word as it is best heard: in motion. He travels far and wide through the coven's territory and sometimes beyond it, preaching and offering his energy and kindness to those in need. Sometimes, he accompanies his mate, Aella, on her delivery runs. |
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verene - she/her - the pyrrhic vale
Verene can usually be found deep in the forest by the Hewn Shrine, where few souls dare to tread. She is a capable, knowledgeable forager who has the keen mind necessary to combat the forest's horrors, and the courage and greed both necessary to scavenge for rare plants among the shadowy trees. She only does business at night, on account of her appearance, changed from so long in the dark. |
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verity - she/her - the hall of origin
Long ago, and in a different time, Verity was a bookseller in the Shifting Expanse. A series of extraordinary events, though, awakened her magic and sent her hurtling through the eras to the time in which she found her mate, Nathan, and fell deeply in love. Their connection has served as an anchor for the coven for years, and has kept them together through great tragedies beyond their control. |
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vitomir - he/him - the pyrrhic vale
Exile is a long and lonely road, but so far, Vitomir has adapted. Scorned by his kingdom, more princeling than proper prince, he has taken to wandering the lands that surround those he was raised in. Perhaps if he comes to understand the world at large, he will again be worthy of the throne. But perhaps there is something darker afoot, something he cannot hope to overcome. |
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xerxes - he/him - the bridge of seasons
Quite literally the ghost of the dragon he was before, Xerxes is a fallen warrior dating back to the days when the Pyrrhic Vale was a vicious, bloody battlefield. He searches constantly for his fallen fellows, and wonders what gods have allowed him to live so long, unaware he has already died. For some reason, he reliably returns to the Bridge of Seasons each morning when the dawn returns. |
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zera - she/her - the hall of origin
The coven queen, and a force to be reckoned with. She has survived witch hunts and burning at the stake only to come out the otherside stronger than before. Her coven believes her to be religious, but she has actually turned her back on the Shadowbinder for personal reasons. Her mate is Aethos, the coven co-founder, and her closest confidant is Hiareth, the sentinel. |
story archives
stories are best read in the order listed here.
origin era stories
i - long live the godless
ii - the shift
iii - missing spaces, missing faces
origin era side tales
a failed experiment
stories are best read in the order listed here.
origin era stories
i - long live the godless
ii - the shift
iii - missing spaces, missing faces
origin era side tales
a failed experiment
story archives
stories are best read in the order listed here.
origin era stories
i - long live the godless
ii - the shift
iii - missing spaces, missing faces
origin era side tales
a failed experiment
stories are best read in the order listed here.
origin era stories
i - long live the godless
ii - the shift
iii - missing spaces, missing faces
origin era side tales
a failed experiment
pinglists
if you would like to be added to the pinglist, please ask! i am subscribed, so there's no need to ping me.
@shanncrafter @disillusionist @myriadofstars @ username @ username
credits
all images can be clicked, leading back to the original artist! code and writing, of course, is wholly my own.
if you would like to be added to the pinglist, please ask! i am subscribed, so there's no need to ping me.
@shanncrafter @disillusionist @myriadofstars @ username @ username
credits
all images can be clicked, leading back to the original artist! code and writing, of course, is wholly my own.
pinglists
if you would like to be added to the pinglist, please ask! i am subscribed, so there's no need to ping me.
@shanncrafter @disillusionist @myriadofstars @ username @ username
credits
all images can be clicked, leading back to the original artist! code and writing, of course, is wholly my own.
if you would like to be added to the pinglist, please ask! i am subscribed, so there's no need to ping me.
@shanncrafter @disillusionist @myriadofstars @ username @ username
credits
all images can be clicked, leading back to the original artist! code and writing, of course, is wholly my own.
core installment - long live the godless
“Pick up the pace."
"You let that one get right through your damn claws."
"I’m not here to babysit you."
"Are all Fae this pathetic?"
Zera kicked out, punching a hole through the flimsy sap and twig nest as she woke with a start. Heart dancing up and down her ribs, she lifted her head and squinted into the darkness. By the light of the glowshrooms, nothing stirred. Even the stone sentries, flocks of animated statues, were still.
She swore.
Rising to her feet, she stretched her wings, mindful of the low pine branches above her. This was the third night in a row that her past had come to trouble her, and the third night in a row that she was helpless to stop it, unable to share it. Zera had offered little of her origins to her coven. Her days as a thieving Fae held no bearing over the coven she ruled now, and if she could preserve her privacy, she would. There was no need for her witches to learn that she once walked a crooked path, that her ambition had ever been used for anything less than the good of the coven. She was the coven queen, righteous and steadfast, full up with valor and faith in the Shadowbinder, their watchful mother.
And what if they knew her faith was a sham?
It had been years since she last prayed to the elusive deity, and in her whole life, she had prayed twice. The first occasion she prayed, she had been convinced she was going to die trapped beneath a Guardian’s claws. On the second, she had prayed for the Shadowbinder to grant that same Guardian good health and a long life. Neither prayer was answered, and Zera quietly adopted the life of an atheist in response.
The temptation to pray was growing, though. She hated to admit it, but the dreams were growing more vivid, more harrowing. The fear of failure dogged her all the way into sleep, and it robbed her of rest. Desperate for relief, the Skydancer almost bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Almost.
She refrained. Behind her eyelids, there would be nothing but images of her past, of the Guardian’s stormy muzzle filled with scorn and wisdom alike, of the Foxfire Bramble and its thousands of thorns. Worst of all, there would be the insurmountable walls of the Obscured Crescent, hewn from pale stone dirtied from years and years of assault by the elements. Beyond those walls, supposedly the Shadowbinder slept. Zera had tried to scale the ramparts in vain, seeking a cure for her beloved protector’s raging fever. Her little Fae wings had not been strong enough, though, and her conviction had been similarly weak.
She reached out and crushed a glowshroom in her claws. She was strong now. She was a full-grown Skydancer, capable of dazzling flight and dangerous combat. But why go back? Why chance success in bypassing the walls when inside, there would be nothing for her but a muddied pool? The Guardian would not be there. A solution to her jarring dreams would not be there. And the Shadowbinder would not be there. At most, Zera might find a bat or a colony of wisp bugs, living in relative peace, and nothing more than that.
"Long live the godless,” she muttered to herself, letting shreds of the glowshroom fall from between her claws. The Guardian’s rumble echoed in her ears, a generic admonishment for generic heresy. Clenching her jaw, she ignored it and paced a circle inside her nest before lying down once more with her chin atop crossed forelegs. “Long live the godless,” she said again, “and long live pragmatism."
For a heartbeat, she dwelt on the memory of the Guardian, a silvery-grey dragoness with eyes like flint and a heart of stone. The Guardian had been soft underneath, though, a nurturer in her own, rough-edged way. She had worked tirelessly to keep the outer segments of the Forum from falling into lawlessness, constantly preventing heathens from desecrating the sacred space. Without her, Zera would have never left the path of a rogue and discovered her magical skill was more valuable than her skill in petty theft.
The memory was a thought of gratefulness, a thought of debt. She shut it out and flicked her tail over the nest’s edge, scattering shards of cured sap. There was no room for debt in her heart, not tonight, and hopefully never again.
Beyond the low pine boughs, the glowshrooms wavered, and a shadow passed over the coven.
“Pick up the pace."
"You let that one get right through your damn claws."
"I’m not here to babysit you."
"Are all Fae this pathetic?"
Zera kicked out, punching a hole through the flimsy sap and twig nest as she woke with a start. Heart dancing up and down her ribs, she lifted her head and squinted into the darkness. By the light of the glowshrooms, nothing stirred. Even the stone sentries, flocks of animated statues, were still.
She swore.
Rising to her feet, she stretched her wings, mindful of the low pine branches above her. This was the third night in a row that her past had come to trouble her, and the third night in a row that she was helpless to stop it, unable to share it. Zera had offered little of her origins to her coven. Her days as a thieving Fae held no bearing over the coven she ruled now, and if she could preserve her privacy, she would. There was no need for her witches to learn that she once walked a crooked path, that her ambition had ever been used for anything less than the good of the coven. She was the coven queen, righteous and steadfast, full up with valor and faith in the Shadowbinder, their watchful mother.
And what if they knew her faith was a sham?
It had been years since she last prayed to the elusive deity, and in her whole life, she had prayed twice. The first occasion she prayed, she had been convinced she was going to die trapped beneath a Guardian’s claws. On the second, she had prayed for the Shadowbinder to grant that same Guardian good health and a long life. Neither prayer was answered, and Zera quietly adopted the life of an atheist in response.
The temptation to pray was growing, though. She hated to admit it, but the dreams were growing more vivid, more harrowing. The fear of failure dogged her all the way into sleep, and it robbed her of rest. Desperate for relief, the Skydancer almost bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Almost.
She refrained. Behind her eyelids, there would be nothing but images of her past, of the Guardian’s stormy muzzle filled with scorn and wisdom alike, of the Foxfire Bramble and its thousands of thorns. Worst of all, there would be the insurmountable walls of the Obscured Crescent, hewn from pale stone dirtied from years and years of assault by the elements. Beyond those walls, supposedly the Shadowbinder slept. Zera had tried to scale the ramparts in vain, seeking a cure for her beloved protector’s raging fever. Her little Fae wings had not been strong enough, though, and her conviction had been similarly weak.
She reached out and crushed a glowshroom in her claws. She was strong now. She was a full-grown Skydancer, capable of dazzling flight and dangerous combat. But why go back? Why chance success in bypassing the walls when inside, there would be nothing for her but a muddied pool? The Guardian would not be there. A solution to her jarring dreams would not be there. And the Shadowbinder would not be there. At most, Zera might find a bat or a colony of wisp bugs, living in relative peace, and nothing more than that.
"Long live the godless,” she muttered to herself, letting shreds of the glowshroom fall from between her claws. The Guardian’s rumble echoed in her ears, a generic admonishment for generic heresy. Clenching her jaw, she ignored it and paced a circle inside her nest before lying down once more with her chin atop crossed forelegs. “Long live the godless,” she said again, “and long live pragmatism."
For a heartbeat, she dwelt on the memory of the Guardian, a silvery-grey dragoness with eyes like flint and a heart of stone. The Guardian had been soft underneath, though, a nurturer in her own, rough-edged way. She had worked tirelessly to keep the outer segments of the Forum from falling into lawlessness, constantly preventing heathens from desecrating the sacred space. Without her, Zera would have never left the path of a rogue and discovered her magical skill was more valuable than her skill in petty theft.
The memory was a thought of gratefulness, a thought of debt. She shut it out and flicked her tail over the nest’s edge, scattering shards of cured sap. There was no room for debt in her heart, not tonight, and hopefully never again.
Beyond the low pine boughs, the glowshrooms wavered, and a shadow passed over the coven.
core installment - long live the godless
“Pick up the pace."
"You let that one get right through your damn claws."
"I’m not here to babysit you."
"Are all Fae this pathetic?"
Zera kicked out, punching a hole through the flimsy sap and twig nest as she woke with a start. Heart dancing up and down her ribs, she lifted her head and squinted into the darkness. By the light of the glowshrooms, nothing stirred. Even the stone sentries, flocks of animated statues, were still.
She swore.
Rising to her feet, she stretched her wings, mindful of the low pine branches above her. This was the third night in a row that her past had come to trouble her, and the third night in a row that she was helpless to stop it, unable to share it. Zera had offered little of her origins to her coven. Her days as a thieving Fae held no bearing over the coven she ruled now, and if she could preserve her privacy, she would. There was no need for her witches to learn that she once walked a crooked path, that her ambition had ever been used for anything less than the good of the coven. She was the coven queen, righteous and steadfast, full up with valor and faith in the Shadowbinder, their watchful mother.
And what if they knew her faith was a sham?
It had been years since she last prayed to the elusive deity, and in her whole life, she had prayed twice. The first occasion she prayed, she had been convinced she was going to die trapped beneath a Guardian’s claws. On the second, she had prayed for the Shadowbinder to grant that same Guardian good health and a long life. Neither prayer was answered, and Zera quietly adopted the life of an atheist in response.
The temptation to pray was growing, though. She hated to admit it, but the dreams were growing more vivid, more harrowing. The fear of failure dogged her all the way into sleep, and it robbed her of rest. Desperate for relief, the Skydancer almost bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Almost.
She refrained. Behind her eyelids, there would be nothing but images of her past, of the Guardian’s stormy muzzle filled with scorn and wisdom alike, of the Foxfire Bramble and its thousands of thorns. Worst of all, there would be the insurmountable walls of the Obscured Crescent, hewn from pale stone dirtied from years and years of assault by the elements. Beyond those walls, supposedly the Shadowbinder slept. Zera had tried to scale the ramparts in vain, seeking a cure for her beloved protector’s raging fever. Her little Fae wings had not been strong enough, though, and her conviction had been similarly weak.
She reached out and crushed a glowshroom in her claws. She was strong now. She was a full-grown Skydancer, capable of dazzling flight and dangerous combat. But why go back? Why chance success in bypassing the walls when inside, there would be nothing for her but a muddied pool? The Guardian would not be there. A solution to her jarring dreams would not be there. And the Shadowbinder would not be there. At most, Zera might find a bat or a colony of wisp bugs, living in relative peace, and nothing more than that.
"Long live the godless,” she muttered to herself, letting shreds of the glowshroom fall from between her claws. The Guardian’s rumble echoed in her ears, a generic admonishment for generic heresy. Clenching her jaw, she ignored it and paced a circle inside her nest before lying down once more with her chin atop crossed forelegs. “Long live the godless,” she said again, “and long live pragmatism."
For a heartbeat, she dwelt on the memory of the Guardian, a silvery-grey dragoness with eyes like flint and a heart of stone. The Guardian had been soft underneath, though, a nurturer in her own, rough-edged way. She had worked tirelessly to keep the outer segments of the Forum from falling into lawlessness, constantly preventing heathens from desecrating the sacred space. Without her, Zera would have never left the path of a rogue and discovered her magical skill was more valuable than her skill in petty theft.
The memory was a thought of gratefulness, a thought of debt. She shut it out and flicked her tail over the nest’s edge, scattering shards of cured sap. There was no room for debt in her heart, not tonight, and hopefully never again.
Beyond the low pine boughs, the glowshrooms wavered, and a shadow passed over the coven.
“Pick up the pace."
"You let that one get right through your damn claws."
"I’m not here to babysit you."
"Are all Fae this pathetic?"
Zera kicked out, punching a hole through the flimsy sap and twig nest as she woke with a start. Heart dancing up and down her ribs, she lifted her head and squinted into the darkness. By the light of the glowshrooms, nothing stirred. Even the stone sentries, flocks of animated statues, were still.
She swore.
Rising to her feet, she stretched her wings, mindful of the low pine branches above her. This was the third night in a row that her past had come to trouble her, and the third night in a row that she was helpless to stop it, unable to share it. Zera had offered little of her origins to her coven. Her days as a thieving Fae held no bearing over the coven she ruled now, and if she could preserve her privacy, she would. There was no need for her witches to learn that she once walked a crooked path, that her ambition had ever been used for anything less than the good of the coven. She was the coven queen, righteous and steadfast, full up with valor and faith in the Shadowbinder, their watchful mother.
And what if they knew her faith was a sham?
It had been years since she last prayed to the elusive deity, and in her whole life, she had prayed twice. The first occasion she prayed, she had been convinced she was going to die trapped beneath a Guardian’s claws. On the second, she had prayed for the Shadowbinder to grant that same Guardian good health and a long life. Neither prayer was answered, and Zera quietly adopted the life of an atheist in response.
The temptation to pray was growing, though. She hated to admit it, but the dreams were growing more vivid, more harrowing. The fear of failure dogged her all the way into sleep, and it robbed her of rest. Desperate for relief, the Skydancer almost bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Almost.
She refrained. Behind her eyelids, there would be nothing but images of her past, of the Guardian’s stormy muzzle filled with scorn and wisdom alike, of the Foxfire Bramble and its thousands of thorns. Worst of all, there would be the insurmountable walls of the Obscured Crescent, hewn from pale stone dirtied from years and years of assault by the elements. Beyond those walls, supposedly the Shadowbinder slept. Zera had tried to scale the ramparts in vain, seeking a cure for her beloved protector’s raging fever. Her little Fae wings had not been strong enough, though, and her conviction had been similarly weak.
She reached out and crushed a glowshroom in her claws. She was strong now. She was a full-grown Skydancer, capable of dazzling flight and dangerous combat. But why go back? Why chance success in bypassing the walls when inside, there would be nothing for her but a muddied pool? The Guardian would not be there. A solution to her jarring dreams would not be there. And the Shadowbinder would not be there. At most, Zera might find a bat or a colony of wisp bugs, living in relative peace, and nothing more than that.
"Long live the godless,” she muttered to herself, letting shreds of the glowshroom fall from between her claws. The Guardian’s rumble echoed in her ears, a generic admonishment for generic heresy. Clenching her jaw, she ignored it and paced a circle inside her nest before lying down once more with her chin atop crossed forelegs. “Long live the godless,” she said again, “and long live pragmatism."
For a heartbeat, she dwelt on the memory of the Guardian, a silvery-grey dragoness with eyes like flint and a heart of stone. The Guardian had been soft underneath, though, a nurturer in her own, rough-edged way. She had worked tirelessly to keep the outer segments of the Forum from falling into lawlessness, constantly preventing heathens from desecrating the sacred space. Without her, Zera would have never left the path of a rogue and discovered her magical skill was more valuable than her skill in petty theft.
The memory was a thought of gratefulness, a thought of debt. She shut it out and flicked her tail over the nest’s edge, scattering shards of cured sap. There was no room for debt in her heart, not tonight, and hopefully never again.
Beyond the low pine boughs, the glowshrooms wavered, and a shadow passed over the coven.
core installment - the shift
Hiareth felt the world shift. It was not a violent shift, one marked by stormy skies and a trembling earth. It was not a vicious shift, one that threw her off her feet. It was subtle, rather, almost unnoticed, almost unremarkable.
But she was watching the seaberry pond, and in the still night, there was no other explanation for the ripples crawling across the surface of the water.
This was not the first shift she had noticed as of late, but it was the first she intended to report to the coven queen.
Pulling herself away from her precious seaberries, Hiareth returned to the heart of the clan, where most of the lairs had been constructed. Zera made her home in the upper reaches of a glowshroom-infested pine, a giant tree quite fit for a queen. Hiareth could not safely land in those branches, though, and instead she rumbled a soft, wordless note to the black stone sentry on guard. Previously inanimate, it sprang to life and saluted the Guardian before soaring up into the leafy boughs.
Shortly it returned, Zera in its wake. “Thank you, Petros,” she whispered to her familiar, folding her beautiful wings. They looked naked, stripped of their banners for the night. Then the Skydancer looked to Hiareth and asked, “Are we safe?” Next to her, the stone sentry cocked its head almost imperceptibly, and clutched its spear as it awaited an answer.
As sentinel, it was Hiareth’s duty to mind the borders. She was the first to know of trespassers by land and sky alike, and the first to sense danger. “We are safe,” she confirmed at last, “but I do not know for how long.
"The land is changing. The borders are in flux, and the cause creeps closer. I have felt it far away before, and it has shifted the course of streams or relocated hunting tracks in the past. Tonight, though, it touched the seaberry pond.”
“That close?” The gem on Zera’s forehead shone faintly, ghosted with a silver glow. “This is not news I enjoy waking to…”
“And it is not news I wanted to wake you with, but we both know what comes first.”
“You’re right.” Zera sighed, giving her head feathers a short flick. “I built this coven from the ground up. I’d be a fool to ignore anything that might…alter that. What do you suggest we do?”
Here Hiareth hesitated. Though she had her queen’s ultimate trust (and the trust of such a powerful witch was a valuable thing to have), she found herself in the role of listener more often than that of a counselor. The reversal was unfamiliar. “I think,” she said slowly, “that we have few options, and that the only reliable one will be to wait.”
Zera was not a dragon for waiting. She was efficient and delighted in results. The flash of irritation in her eyes was clear, but so was her self-control, which ultimately won out. Her expression neutral again, frustration locked away for when it would serve her better, the witch queen nodded. “Keep watching, then. Tell me what happens to the seaberries in the morning.”
“I will,” Hiareth promised, dipping her head and stepping back to allow Zera room to soar back to her nest. But she paused, wings spread with their color washed out by the faint tendrils of moonlight.
“Hiareth?”
“Yes?”
“In the morning, send for Fen.”
With that, the coven’s queen returned to her nest, vanishing into the hollow tree. Two angular shapes, black as pitch, leaped from the shadows to guard the entrance. More of the animated stone sentries, Hiareth realized shortly. They were everywhere, an impressive feat of magic in terms of functionality and upkeep alike. They never failed to impress her. Zera never failed to impress her.
Turning away from the coven’s heart, Hiareth did not rush to her seaberries. She suspected they were already gone, and though she knew must act suitably distraught in the morning at the loss of her supposed Charge, she would spend the rest of the waning night fretting over her real and sacred responsibility.
Harm must not come to the queen, but Hiareth feared that nothing but harm was coming.
Before leaving the camp, she paused outside the carved out root mass of what was once a giant oak. The dry roots were festooned with all manner of herbs and bones, and at the den’s mouth slept the slender shape of Aethos. The Skydancer snored soundly, his wolf cape pulled snugly about his shoulders to keep up the midnight chill, but behind him was a softer snore and a larger, heavier shape.
Hiareth did not wake Fen from his slumber deep beneath the roots. If she were to have her way, she would never wake him at all. In the pit of her stomach, she felt that he embodied all the harm she was so desperate to avoid, and she could not fathom why. By all accounts, he was a devoted member of the coven, brimming with just enough magic to mark him with a witch, exhibiting enough just restraint to designate him as an ally. But he burned with something that touched the world around him, igniting all the little fears that lived in the heart, fanning them into something more dangerous. He was a fierce, angry recklessness given corporeal form.
Hiareth moved on from Fen’s shadow, slipping into the forest, only to find her pond absent from its home. Physical force could not bring the seaberries back from wherever they had vanished to, exactly as she expected.
“This is not a job for a hunter,” she said to the night. Fen stalked beasts, charmed them with his magic, killed them for the good of the cover. He was no gatherer, no farmer, and even if he had been, she doubted he could track seaberries through the forest when the entire pond had vanished. But who could do such a thing?
Whatever the answer, she suspected she would not like it. With a sigh, she settled down to wait for the dawn, and unbeknownst to her, it arrived precisely seven minutes late.
Then, miles away from where it ought to rest, the seaberry pond rippled into existence, warming in the slow morning sun.
Hiareth felt the world shift. It was not a violent shift, one marked by stormy skies and a trembling earth. It was not a vicious shift, one that threw her off her feet. It was subtle, rather, almost unnoticed, almost unremarkable.
But she was watching the seaberry pond, and in the still night, there was no other explanation for the ripples crawling across the surface of the water.
This was not the first shift she had noticed as of late, but it was the first she intended to report to the coven queen.
Pulling herself away from her precious seaberries, Hiareth returned to the heart of the clan, where most of the lairs had been constructed. Zera made her home in the upper reaches of a glowshroom-infested pine, a giant tree quite fit for a queen. Hiareth could not safely land in those branches, though, and instead she rumbled a soft, wordless note to the black stone sentry on guard. Previously inanimate, it sprang to life and saluted the Guardian before soaring up into the leafy boughs.
Shortly it returned, Zera in its wake. “Thank you, Petros,” she whispered to her familiar, folding her beautiful wings. They looked naked, stripped of their banners for the night. Then the Skydancer looked to Hiareth and asked, “Are we safe?” Next to her, the stone sentry cocked its head almost imperceptibly, and clutched its spear as it awaited an answer.
As sentinel, it was Hiareth’s duty to mind the borders. She was the first to know of trespassers by land and sky alike, and the first to sense danger. “We are safe,” she confirmed at last, “but I do not know for how long.
"The land is changing. The borders are in flux, and the cause creeps closer. I have felt it far away before, and it has shifted the course of streams or relocated hunting tracks in the past. Tonight, though, it touched the seaberry pond.”
“That close?” The gem on Zera’s forehead shone faintly, ghosted with a silver glow. “This is not news I enjoy waking to…”
“And it is not news I wanted to wake you with, but we both know what comes first.”
“You’re right.” Zera sighed, giving her head feathers a short flick. “I built this coven from the ground up. I’d be a fool to ignore anything that might…alter that. What do you suggest we do?”
Here Hiareth hesitated. Though she had her queen’s ultimate trust (and the trust of such a powerful witch was a valuable thing to have), she found herself in the role of listener more often than that of a counselor. The reversal was unfamiliar. “I think,” she said slowly, “that we have few options, and that the only reliable one will be to wait.”
Zera was not a dragon for waiting. She was efficient and delighted in results. The flash of irritation in her eyes was clear, but so was her self-control, which ultimately won out. Her expression neutral again, frustration locked away for when it would serve her better, the witch queen nodded. “Keep watching, then. Tell me what happens to the seaberries in the morning.”
“I will,” Hiareth promised, dipping her head and stepping back to allow Zera room to soar back to her nest. But she paused, wings spread with their color washed out by the faint tendrils of moonlight.
“Hiareth?”
“Yes?”
“In the morning, send for Fen.”
With that, the coven’s queen returned to her nest, vanishing into the hollow tree. Two angular shapes, black as pitch, leaped from the shadows to guard the entrance. More of the animated stone sentries, Hiareth realized shortly. They were everywhere, an impressive feat of magic in terms of functionality and upkeep alike. They never failed to impress her. Zera never failed to impress her.
Turning away from the coven’s heart, Hiareth did not rush to her seaberries. She suspected they were already gone, and though she knew must act suitably distraught in the morning at the loss of her supposed Charge, she would spend the rest of the waning night fretting over her real and sacred responsibility.
Harm must not come to the queen, but Hiareth feared that nothing but harm was coming.
Before leaving the camp, she paused outside the carved out root mass of what was once a giant oak. The dry roots were festooned with all manner of herbs and bones, and at the den’s mouth slept the slender shape of Aethos. The Skydancer snored soundly, his wolf cape pulled snugly about his shoulders to keep up the midnight chill, but behind him was a softer snore and a larger, heavier shape.
Hiareth did not wake Fen from his slumber deep beneath the roots. If she were to have her way, she would never wake him at all. In the pit of her stomach, she felt that he embodied all the harm she was so desperate to avoid, and she could not fathom why. By all accounts, he was a devoted member of the coven, brimming with just enough magic to mark him with a witch, exhibiting enough just restraint to designate him as an ally. But he burned with something that touched the world around him, igniting all the little fears that lived in the heart, fanning them into something more dangerous. He was a fierce, angry recklessness given corporeal form.
Hiareth moved on from Fen’s shadow, slipping into the forest, only to find her pond absent from its home. Physical force could not bring the seaberries back from wherever they had vanished to, exactly as she expected.
“This is not a job for a hunter,” she said to the night. Fen stalked beasts, charmed them with his magic, killed them for the good of the cover. He was no gatherer, no farmer, and even if he had been, she doubted he could track seaberries through the forest when the entire pond had vanished. But who could do such a thing?
Whatever the answer, she suspected she would not like it. With a sigh, she settled down to wait for the dawn, and unbeknownst to her, it arrived precisely seven minutes late.
Then, miles away from where it ought to rest, the seaberry pond rippled into existence, warming in the slow morning sun.
core installment - the shift
Hiareth felt the world shift. It was not a violent shift, one marked by stormy skies and a trembling earth. It was not a vicious shift, one that threw her off her feet. It was subtle, rather, almost unnoticed, almost unremarkable.
But she was watching the seaberry pond, and in the still night, there was no other explanation for the ripples crawling across the surface of the water.
This was not the first shift she had noticed as of late, but it was the first she intended to report to the coven queen.
Pulling herself away from her precious seaberries, Hiareth returned to the heart of the clan, where most of the lairs had been constructed. Zera made her home in the upper reaches of a glowshroom-infested pine, a giant tree quite fit for a queen. Hiareth could not safely land in those branches, though, and instead she rumbled a soft, wordless note to the black stone sentry on guard. Previously inanimate, it sprang to life and saluted the Guardian before soaring up into the leafy boughs.
Shortly it returned, Zera in its wake. “Thank you, Petros,” she whispered to her familiar, folding her beautiful wings. They looked naked, stripped of their banners for the night. Then the Skydancer looked to Hiareth and asked, “Are we safe?” Next to her, the stone sentry cocked its head almost imperceptibly, and clutched its spear as it awaited an answer.
As sentinel, it was Hiareth’s duty to mind the borders. She was the first to know of trespassers by land and sky alike, and the first to sense danger. “We are safe,” she confirmed at last, “but I do not know for how long.
"The land is changing. The borders are in flux, and the cause creeps closer. I have felt it far away before, and it has shifted the course of streams or relocated hunting tracks in the past. Tonight, though, it touched the seaberry pond.”
“That close?” The gem on Zera’s forehead shone faintly, ghosted with a silver glow. “This is not news I enjoy waking to…”
“And it is not news I wanted to wake you with, but we both know what comes first.”
“You’re right.” Zera sighed, giving her head feathers a short flick. “I built this coven from the ground up. I’d be a fool to ignore anything that might…alter that. What do you suggest we do?”
Here Hiareth hesitated. Though she had her queen’s ultimate trust (and the trust of such a powerful witch was a valuable thing to have), she found herself in the role of listener more often than that of a counselor. The reversal was unfamiliar. “I think,” she said slowly, “that we have few options, and that the only reliable one will be to wait.”
Zera was not a dragon for waiting. She was efficient and delighted in results. The flash of irritation in her eyes was clear, but so was her self-control, which ultimately won out. Her expression neutral again, frustration locked away for when it would serve her better, the witch queen nodded. “Keep watching, then. Tell me what happens to the seaberries in the morning.”
“I will,” Hiareth promised, dipping her head and stepping back to allow Zera room to soar back to her nest. But she paused, wings spread with their color washed out by the faint tendrils of moonlight.
“Hiareth?”
“Yes?”
“In the morning, send for Fen.”
With that, the coven’s queen returned to her nest, vanishing into the hollow tree. Two angular shapes, black as pitch, leaped from the shadows to guard the entrance. More of the animated stone sentries, Hiareth realized shortly. They were everywhere, an impressive feat of magic in terms of functionality and upkeep alike. They never failed to impress her. Zera never failed to impress her.
Turning away from the coven’s heart, Hiareth did not rush to her seaberries. She suspected they were already gone, and though she knew must act suitably distraught in the morning at the loss of her supposed Charge, she would spend the rest of the waning night fretting over her real and sacred responsibility.
Harm must not come to the queen, but Hiareth feared that nothing but harm was coming.
Before leaving the camp, she paused outside the carved out root mass of what was once a giant oak. The dry roots were festooned with all manner of herbs and bones, and at the den’s mouth slept the slender shape of Aethos. The Skydancer snored soundly, his wolf cape pulled snugly about his shoulders to keep up the midnight chill, but behind him was a softer snore and a larger, heavier shape.
Hiareth did not wake Fen from his slumber deep beneath the roots. If she were to have her way, she would never wake him at all. In the pit of her stomach, she felt that he embodied all the harm she was so desperate to avoid, and she could not fathom why. By all accounts, he was a devoted member of the coven, brimming with just enough magic to mark him with a witch, exhibiting enough just restraint to designate him as an ally. But he burned with something that touched the world around him, igniting all the little fears that lived in the heart, fanning them into something more dangerous. He was a fierce, angry recklessness given corporeal form.
Hiareth moved on from Fen’s shadow, slipping into the forest, only to find her pond absent from its home. Physical force could not bring the seaberries back from wherever they had vanished to, exactly as she expected.
“This is not a job for a hunter,” she said to the night. Fen stalked beasts, charmed them with his magic, killed them for the good of the cover. He was no gatherer, no farmer, and even if he had been, she doubted he could track seaberries through the forest when the entire pond had vanished. But who could do such a thing?
Whatever the answer, she suspected she would not like it. With a sigh, she settled down to wait for the dawn, and unbeknownst to her, it arrived precisely seven minutes late.
Then, miles away from where it ought to rest, the seaberry pond rippled into existence, warming in the slow morning sun.
Hiareth felt the world shift. It was not a violent shift, one marked by stormy skies and a trembling earth. It was not a vicious shift, one that threw her off her feet. It was subtle, rather, almost unnoticed, almost unremarkable.
But she was watching the seaberry pond, and in the still night, there was no other explanation for the ripples crawling across the surface of the water.
This was not the first shift she had noticed as of late, but it was the first she intended to report to the coven queen.
Pulling herself away from her precious seaberries, Hiareth returned to the heart of the clan, where most of the lairs had been constructed. Zera made her home in the upper reaches of a glowshroom-infested pine, a giant tree quite fit for a queen. Hiareth could not safely land in those branches, though, and instead she rumbled a soft, wordless note to the black stone sentry on guard. Previously inanimate, it sprang to life and saluted the Guardian before soaring up into the leafy boughs.
Shortly it returned, Zera in its wake. “Thank you, Petros,” she whispered to her familiar, folding her beautiful wings. They looked naked, stripped of their banners for the night. Then the Skydancer looked to Hiareth and asked, “Are we safe?” Next to her, the stone sentry cocked its head almost imperceptibly, and clutched its spear as it awaited an answer.
As sentinel, it was Hiareth’s duty to mind the borders. She was the first to know of trespassers by land and sky alike, and the first to sense danger. “We are safe,” she confirmed at last, “but I do not know for how long.
"The land is changing. The borders are in flux, and the cause creeps closer. I have felt it far away before, and it has shifted the course of streams or relocated hunting tracks in the past. Tonight, though, it touched the seaberry pond.”
“That close?” The gem on Zera’s forehead shone faintly, ghosted with a silver glow. “This is not news I enjoy waking to…”
“And it is not news I wanted to wake you with, but we both know what comes first.”
“You’re right.” Zera sighed, giving her head feathers a short flick. “I built this coven from the ground up. I’d be a fool to ignore anything that might…alter that. What do you suggest we do?”
Here Hiareth hesitated. Though she had her queen’s ultimate trust (and the trust of such a powerful witch was a valuable thing to have), she found herself in the role of listener more often than that of a counselor. The reversal was unfamiliar. “I think,” she said slowly, “that we have few options, and that the only reliable one will be to wait.”
Zera was not a dragon for waiting. She was efficient and delighted in results. The flash of irritation in her eyes was clear, but so was her self-control, which ultimately won out. Her expression neutral again, frustration locked away for when it would serve her better, the witch queen nodded. “Keep watching, then. Tell me what happens to the seaberries in the morning.”
“I will,” Hiareth promised, dipping her head and stepping back to allow Zera room to soar back to her nest. But she paused, wings spread with their color washed out by the faint tendrils of moonlight.
“Hiareth?”
“Yes?”
“In the morning, send for Fen.”
With that, the coven’s queen returned to her nest, vanishing into the hollow tree. Two angular shapes, black as pitch, leaped from the shadows to guard the entrance. More of the animated stone sentries, Hiareth realized shortly. They were everywhere, an impressive feat of magic in terms of functionality and upkeep alike. They never failed to impress her. Zera never failed to impress her.
Turning away from the coven’s heart, Hiareth did not rush to her seaberries. She suspected they were already gone, and though she knew must act suitably distraught in the morning at the loss of her supposed Charge, she would spend the rest of the waning night fretting over her real and sacred responsibility.
Harm must not come to the queen, but Hiareth feared that nothing but harm was coming.
Before leaving the camp, she paused outside the carved out root mass of what was once a giant oak. The dry roots were festooned with all manner of herbs and bones, and at the den’s mouth slept the slender shape of Aethos. The Skydancer snored soundly, his wolf cape pulled snugly about his shoulders to keep up the midnight chill, but behind him was a softer snore and a larger, heavier shape.
Hiareth did not wake Fen from his slumber deep beneath the roots. If she were to have her way, she would never wake him at all. In the pit of her stomach, she felt that he embodied all the harm she was so desperate to avoid, and she could not fathom why. By all accounts, he was a devoted member of the coven, brimming with just enough magic to mark him with a witch, exhibiting enough just restraint to designate him as an ally. But he burned with something that touched the world around him, igniting all the little fears that lived in the heart, fanning them into something more dangerous. He was a fierce, angry recklessness given corporeal form.
Hiareth moved on from Fen’s shadow, slipping into the forest, only to find her pond absent from its home. Physical force could not bring the seaberries back from wherever they had vanished to, exactly as she expected.
“This is not a job for a hunter,” she said to the night. Fen stalked beasts, charmed them with his magic, killed them for the good of the cover. He was no gatherer, no farmer, and even if he had been, she doubted he could track seaberries through the forest when the entire pond had vanished. But who could do such a thing?
Whatever the answer, she suspected she would not like it. With a sigh, she settled down to wait for the dawn, and unbeknownst to her, it arrived precisely seven minutes late.
Then, miles away from where it ought to rest, the seaberry pond rippled into existence, warming in the slow morning sun.
side tale - a failed experiment
“Hey, look at it this way: you only kind of looked stupid. For most of it, you looked pretty incredible.” Rynka gave Shades a pat on the back, almost knocking him over. The poor fellow was already winded, and stumbled forward a couple paces at the Guardian’s touch, coughing weakly. Black smoke streamed from his nostrils.
“It was not supposed to do that,” he wheezed, nodding at the smoldering remains of his latest concoction. Rynka had been supervising him over the cauldron, the only qualified alchemist the coven had to do so, and as Shades had added his ingredients ever so carefully, something had still gone wrong. He suspected it had something to do with the Firebelly Scorpion tails he’d thrown into the mix. They’d been a last minute addition, meant to add a little kick when his new project was detonated. Clearly, they’d worked. They'd just worked far too soon.
Another puff of black smoke drizzled out from between Shades’ fangs, and he gingerly held the edge of the cauldron. It sizzled softly at his touch, not that that was too terrible. Was he not a Fire dragon? More troubling to him than the hot metal was the absence of anything in the cauldron, though.
“It’s all gone,” he moaned, letting go and slumping to the ground with his back to the failed experiment. “All those pocket bombs are going to be empty. Why didn’t you stop me from putting the tails in?”
Rynka’s scales shifted and clattered as she sat beside him. “Honestly," she began, “it looked real cool when you threw them in. All the fireworks and shadows made you look amazing, I promise. And I know a little fire never hurts you.” She laughed and flicked a clod of dirt at Shades with one claw. “Didn’t realize the landing would be so rough, though. Sorry about that.”
He had crashed down to earth pretty harshly following the explosion. Shades gently rolled his shoulders and checked his paws to make sure all his digits were still in place. They were, thank the Flamecaller.
For a moment, they sat together in silence, the experiment’s wreckage smoking and occasionally shooting off purple sparks around them. Shades broke the silence, though, asking, “Was it really incredible? Really?”
“Very,” Rynka assured him. “You have nothing to worry about. I mean, before you went flying. You were cool in the face of danger for a solid three seconds, so that counts for something.”
“Rynka,” Shades whined.
“Just telling the truth. You had your moment and it was amazing. And then you ate dust.”
“I know, I know…”
More silence followed, punctuated by hisses from the cooling cauldron. They surveyed the disaster zone of Shades’ making, drinking in all the details. It was dangerous and reckless and foolish to have attempted crafting such a volatile mixture for the bombs Shades sought to create. The coven’s queen should have never given them her permission to try, not at all, not if she wanted anything left of her coven standing when the day was done.
“Zera doesn’t have to know about this, you know.”
Shades nodded. “No, she doesn’t, not if we clean up.”
“And if we're quick,” Rynka said with a grin, “we can try it again before we tidy.”
And somehow, despite having made personal contact with an explosion once that day, Shades was quite eager to try creating another. In less than ten minutes, he’d collected the right ingredients once more, and was kicking a fire to life beneath the cauldron.
Rynka brought nothing but goggles to the scene so she could watch the whole thing head on.
“Hey, look at it this way: you only kind of looked stupid. For most of it, you looked pretty incredible.” Rynka gave Shades a pat on the back, almost knocking him over. The poor fellow was already winded, and stumbled forward a couple paces at the Guardian’s touch, coughing weakly. Black smoke streamed from his nostrils.
“It was not supposed to do that,” he wheezed, nodding at the smoldering remains of his latest concoction. Rynka had been supervising him over the cauldron, the only qualified alchemist the coven had to do so, and as Shades had added his ingredients ever so carefully, something had still gone wrong. He suspected it had something to do with the Firebelly Scorpion tails he’d thrown into the mix. They’d been a last minute addition, meant to add a little kick when his new project was detonated. Clearly, they’d worked. They'd just worked far too soon.
Another puff of black smoke drizzled out from between Shades’ fangs, and he gingerly held the edge of the cauldron. It sizzled softly at his touch, not that that was too terrible. Was he not a Fire dragon? More troubling to him than the hot metal was the absence of anything in the cauldron, though.
“It’s all gone,” he moaned, letting go and slumping to the ground with his back to the failed experiment. “All those pocket bombs are going to be empty. Why didn’t you stop me from putting the tails in?”
Rynka’s scales shifted and clattered as she sat beside him. “Honestly," she began, “it looked real cool when you threw them in. All the fireworks and shadows made you look amazing, I promise. And I know a little fire never hurts you.” She laughed and flicked a clod of dirt at Shades with one claw. “Didn’t realize the landing would be so rough, though. Sorry about that.”
He had crashed down to earth pretty harshly following the explosion. Shades gently rolled his shoulders and checked his paws to make sure all his digits were still in place. They were, thank the Flamecaller.
For a moment, they sat together in silence, the experiment’s wreckage smoking and occasionally shooting off purple sparks around them. Shades broke the silence, though, asking, “Was it really incredible? Really?”
“Very,” Rynka assured him. “You have nothing to worry about. I mean, before you went flying. You were cool in the face of danger for a solid three seconds, so that counts for something.”
“Rynka,” Shades whined.
“Just telling the truth. You had your moment and it was amazing. And then you ate dust.”
“I know, I know…”
More silence followed, punctuated by hisses from the cooling cauldron. They surveyed the disaster zone of Shades’ making, drinking in all the details. It was dangerous and reckless and foolish to have attempted crafting such a volatile mixture for the bombs Shades sought to create. The coven’s queen should have never given them her permission to try, not at all, not if she wanted anything left of her coven standing when the day was done.
“Zera doesn’t have to know about this, you know.”
Shades nodded. “No, she doesn’t, not if we clean up.”
“And if we're quick,” Rynka said with a grin, “we can try it again before we tidy.”
And somehow, despite having made personal contact with an explosion once that day, Shades was quite eager to try creating another. In less than ten minutes, he’d collected the right ingredients once more, and was kicking a fire to life beneath the cauldron.
Rynka brought nothing but goggles to the scene so she could watch the whole thing head on.
side tale - a failed experiment
“Hey, look at it this way: you only kind of looked stupid. For most of it, you looked pretty incredible.” Rynka gave Shades a pat on the back, almost knocking him over. The poor fellow was already winded, and stumbled forward a couple paces at the Guardian’s touch, coughing weakly. Black smoke streamed from his nostrils.
“It was not supposed to do that,” he wheezed, nodding at the smoldering remains of his latest concoction. Rynka had been supervising him over the cauldron, the only qualified alchemist the coven had to do so, and as Shades had added his ingredients ever so carefully, something had still gone wrong. He suspected it had something to do with the Firebelly Scorpion tails he’d thrown into the mix. They’d been a last minute addition, meant to add a little kick when his new project was detonated. Clearly, they’d worked. They'd just worked far too soon.
Another puff of black smoke drizzled out from between Shades’ fangs, and he gingerly held the edge of the cauldron. It sizzled softly at his touch, not that that was too terrible. Was he not a Fire dragon? More troubling to him than the hot metal was the absence of anything in the cauldron, though.
“It’s all gone,” he moaned, letting go and slumping to the ground with his back to the failed experiment. “All those pocket bombs are going to be empty. Why didn’t you stop me from putting the tails in?”
Rynka’s scales shifted and clattered as she sat beside him. “Honestly," she began, “it looked real cool when you threw them in. All the fireworks and shadows made you look amazing, I promise. And I know a little fire never hurts you.” She laughed and flicked a clod of dirt at Shades with one claw. “Didn’t realize the landing would be so rough, though. Sorry about that.”
He had crashed down to earth pretty harshly following the explosion. Shades gently rolled his shoulders and checked his paws to make sure all his digits were still in place. They were, thank the Flamecaller.
For a moment, they sat together in silence, the experiment’s wreckage smoking and occasionally shooting off purple sparks around them. Shades broke the silence, though, asking, “Was it really incredible? Really?”
“Very,” Rynka assured him. “You have nothing to worry about. I mean, before you went flying. You were cool in the face of danger for a solid three seconds, so that counts for something.”
“Rynka,” Shades whined.
“Just telling the truth. You had your moment and it was amazing. And then you ate dust.”
“I know, I know…”
More silence followed, punctuated by hisses from the cooling cauldron. They surveyed the disaster zone of Shades’ making, drinking in all the details. It was dangerous and reckless and foolish to have attempted crafting such a volatile mixture for the bombs Shades sought to create. The coven’s queen should have never given them her permission to try, not at all, not if she wanted anything left of her coven standing when the day was done.
“Zera doesn’t have to know about this, you know.”
Shades nodded. “No, she doesn’t, not if we clean up.”
“And if we're quick,” Rynka said with a grin, “we can try it again before we tidy.”
And somehow, despite having made personal contact with an explosion once that day, Shades was quite eager to try creating another. In less than ten minutes, he’d collected the right ingredients once more, and was kicking a fire to life beneath the cauldron.
Rynka brought nothing but goggles to the scene so she could watch the whole thing head on.
“Hey, look at it this way: you only kind of looked stupid. For most of it, you looked pretty incredible.” Rynka gave Shades a pat on the back, almost knocking him over. The poor fellow was already winded, and stumbled forward a couple paces at the Guardian’s touch, coughing weakly. Black smoke streamed from his nostrils.
“It was not supposed to do that,” he wheezed, nodding at the smoldering remains of his latest concoction. Rynka had been supervising him over the cauldron, the only qualified alchemist the coven had to do so, and as Shades had added his ingredients ever so carefully, something had still gone wrong. He suspected it had something to do with the Firebelly Scorpion tails he’d thrown into the mix. They’d been a last minute addition, meant to add a little kick when his new project was detonated. Clearly, they’d worked. They'd just worked far too soon.
Another puff of black smoke drizzled out from between Shades’ fangs, and he gingerly held the edge of the cauldron. It sizzled softly at his touch, not that that was too terrible. Was he not a Fire dragon? More troubling to him than the hot metal was the absence of anything in the cauldron, though.
“It’s all gone,” he moaned, letting go and slumping to the ground with his back to the failed experiment. “All those pocket bombs are going to be empty. Why didn’t you stop me from putting the tails in?”
Rynka’s scales shifted and clattered as she sat beside him. “Honestly," she began, “it looked real cool when you threw them in. All the fireworks and shadows made you look amazing, I promise. And I know a little fire never hurts you.” She laughed and flicked a clod of dirt at Shades with one claw. “Didn’t realize the landing would be so rough, though. Sorry about that.”
He had crashed down to earth pretty harshly following the explosion. Shades gently rolled his shoulders and checked his paws to make sure all his digits were still in place. They were, thank the Flamecaller.
For a moment, they sat together in silence, the experiment’s wreckage smoking and occasionally shooting off purple sparks around them. Shades broke the silence, though, asking, “Was it really incredible? Really?”
“Very,” Rynka assured him. “You have nothing to worry about. I mean, before you went flying. You were cool in the face of danger for a solid three seconds, so that counts for something.”
“Rynka,” Shades whined.
“Just telling the truth. You had your moment and it was amazing. And then you ate dust.”
“I know, I know…”
More silence followed, punctuated by hisses from the cooling cauldron. They surveyed the disaster zone of Shades’ making, drinking in all the details. It was dangerous and reckless and foolish to have attempted crafting such a volatile mixture for the bombs Shades sought to create. The coven’s queen should have never given them her permission to try, not at all, not if she wanted anything left of her coven standing when the day was done.
“Zera doesn’t have to know about this, you know.”
Shades nodded. “No, she doesn’t, not if we clean up.”
“And if we're quick,” Rynka said with a grin, “we can try it again before we tidy.”
And somehow, despite having made personal contact with an explosion once that day, Shades was quite eager to try creating another. In less than ten minutes, he’d collected the right ingredients once more, and was kicking a fire to life beneath the cauldron.
Rynka brought nothing but goggles to the scene so she could watch the whole thing head on.