@Ouji The idea with the softness was that Venturi was being polite to the one who can help him - Equinox - to ensure that he actually gets his wish, and he's then soft towards him later on because Equinox helped him and the potion worked (he was originally thinking it was a flunk and so half-believed it wouldn't work, and so he was surprised when it did). I was thinking that he'd be a lot meaner to anyone else who came near him, but Nictan and Equinox are exceptions down to them helping him. He's going to be slightly harsher with Nictan, however, but not by much since I had the idea that Nictan had pointed Venturi in the right direction, because Equinox helped him before Venturi? It might sound confusing now but I'm sure it'll make more sense as soon as I've written it! :) Also, I didn't mean for you to go find him. If you want, I can help you find him as a repayment for creating Solstice haha.
TOPIC | Let me write lore for dragons! OPEN
@Ouji The idea with the softness was that Venturi was being polite to the one who can help him - Equinox - to ensure that he actually gets his wish, and he's then soft towards him later on because Equinox helped him and the potion worked (he was originally thinking it was a flunk and so half-believed it wouldn't work, and so he was surprised when it did). I was thinking that he'd be a lot meaner to anyone else who came near him, but Nictan and Equinox are exceptions down to them helping him. He's going to be slightly harsher with Nictan, however, but not by much since I had the idea that Nictan had pointed Venturi in the right direction, because Equinox helped him before Venturi? It might sound confusing now but I'm sure it'll make more sense as soon as I've written it! :) Also, I didn't mean for you to go find him. If you want, I can help you find him as a repayment for creating Solstice haha.
@Ozie ohh gotcha ! so far- could follow your train of thought--
i'll leave everything in your capable hands !!
and no worries aaa you dont have to trouble yourself further ; v ; but thank you for the offer <3
i'll leave everything in your capable hands !!
and no worries aaa you dont have to trouble yourself further ; v ; but thank you for the offer <3
@Ozie ohh gotcha ! so far- could follow your train of thought--
i'll leave everything in your capable hands !!
and no worries aaa you dont have to trouble yourself further ; v ; but thank you for the offer <3
i'll leave everything in your capable hands !!
and no worries aaa you dont have to trouble yourself further ; v ; but thank you for the offer <3
@Ouji Here's your second one! Enjoy!
Made by @/Ozie.
Half an hour. Half an hour of being in a ditch, and he still wasn’t out. The little dragon cursed his small wings and stared at the eggshell that was once his to live in. It’d had a shimmering, golden exterior that caught the light at so many angles, and the interior had been softer than silk. Now, it looked beaten and scratched as Venturi had taken his anger out on it. He’d considered trying to repair it, but had scoffed at himself for such an idea. It’s inanimate, he told himself, and so it doesn’t have feelings. The small hatchling stared up at the violet sky above him and chirped, hoping for someone to hear him. He could see the sun’s rays dying against the thickness of the fog, and knew that the Chimera would come out soon. A shudder raced through him as he chirped again, louder, and flapped him tiny, battered wings in an attempt to fly.
“Hello?” he made himself say. “Is anyone there?”
Ticks felt like bells as he waited for a response. Nothing.
“Stupid dragons,” he growled. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this myself.”
He continued to flap his Persian red wings, kicking up dust and rocks and pebbles. Many hit his delicate form, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The ditch was his main concern. It was about three Wildclaws tall and double that in width. Anger ripped at his muscles, his heart, as he flapped continuously with little change. Just more pebbles to greet him and mock his efforts.
“What use is a dragon that can’t fly?” he cried out, mostly to himself than anyone else as he let his wings fall to his sides in shame, despair. Anger. He let himself examine them, and saw that they were nowhere near ready for flight.
His left wing was perfect, as straight and as durable as it could be, but his right… his right was bent, probably crushed from being thrown into a pit. A growl rose in his throat as he saw that his right also had stretch marks all over the skin, and a small rip near the hook of his wing.
“Useless wings,” he sneered, letting them fold up again as he sought a way out of the pit through climbing.
This could take a while, he thought sadly as he placed his paw on the first rock he could reach and hauled himself upwards.
---
“Back off!” Venturi yelled as the Wildclaw drew closer to him. “I told you, back off!”
“Hey, I’m not here to hurt you, kiddo,” was all the Wildclaw said, staring at the book Venturi was holding in his roughened paws. “I just wanted to ask where you found that book.”
“Nowhere,” he snapped.
“Well, you must’ve done or you wouldn’t have it.” So calm. He must’ve done this kind of thing before.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because it was made by the Necromancer Equinox. He’s made plenty of them. I was wondering if you were a fan.”
“Equinox?” Venturi enquired, arching an eyebrow and taking in the Wildclaw that stood before him. He was a shade of gold, darker than it but not too dark, and he wore jewellery finer than any Venturi had seen. He had curling horns raising from his head, and an Arcane mark shone above his head like a pink-tinted halo. His eyes were of the same shade, shining out against his dark coloured skin, and Venturi caught the dance of fire-lit candles floating eternally behind the Wildclaw’s horns, as if curious of the event unfurling beneath them.
“Yeah,” the dark-coloured dragon replied. “He helped me out with my transformation.”
“Transformation?”
He only nodded. “Yep. I used to be a Nocturne, like you, but he helped me out. I didn’t like being a Nocturne, and yet-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venturi snapped again, refusing to believe a single word he was saying, “I suppose that he also helped you with some other stuff too? Like, I don’t know, dealing with it?”
“Yeah, he did,” the Wildclaw said, confusion and frustration clouding his sunrise-pink eyes. “You know, kiddo, if you feel the same way I do… I could always lead you to him.”
Venturi readied a comeback and was about to snap at him for suggesting such a ludicrous idea, but then it hit him. He’d been trying to change himself by using this Equinox’s work, but it hadn’t worked, so why not go to the dragon instead? “Okay,” he replied gruffly, annoyed by having failed at his argument, “where is he?”
The Wildclaw pointed in the direction of the setting sun with a calloused and scarred paw like his own. A fighter, the Nocturne wondered. “He lives to the West, towards Wind territory. Oh, and I’m Nictan.”
“Venturi.”
“Well, it was nice being yelled at by you, Venturi,” Nictan replied with an amused blink of his eyes before turning his back on the small dragon.
“Wait.”
The Wildclaw – Nictan – stopped in his track and turned to face Venturi. “Yes?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Venturi said, not sarcastically.
“Anytime.”
Venturi felt the blazing heat of the afternoon sun against his scales in that moment, now that the Wildclaw was no longer towering over him. The cooling breeze that had been there moments before was now no longer evident to have even existed, and Venturi felt a river of sweat glide its way down the side of his face as he looked to the West and slumped to the floor. I got out of a ditch, he thought angrily, and this is what I get? More travelling?
The dragon sighed with a large huff of his breath and stood, facing the challenge to become who he wanted to be.
---
‘Are you kidding me’, was the only thought that ran through the dragon’s mind as he stared at the chipped wooden door that stood to the Necromancer’s cave. The local Tradesman, who’d just rolled away with his familiar, had let him hitch a ride for the journey after seeing his paws were bleeding from the rocks and countless sharp objects littering the earth of the Shadow realm. He looked pretty happy to let him hitch a ride, but his face had truly lit up when the Nocturne had mentioned Equinox’s name, falling into a whole other story about how he’d helped him with something or other. Venturi hadn’t listened, only wondered if Equinox would actually help him.
What if he doesn’t?
What if he isn’t even there?
What if he’s dead?
Venturi had to shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts multiple times, but still they crept back in to his mind like mice to a hole in the wall; always coming back. And now here he stood before a rickety, shabby cave entrance wondering if the guy actually was dead. He took it upon himself to knock lightly on the door, and it just opened. Just like that... opened. No locking mechanism, nothing. Confusion and anger cornered his vision as he stared into the slowly unfurling room before him.
It was dusty. That was the first thing he’d noticed; small specks of floating dust that shimmered and glimmered in the sunlight. There was a desk in the centre of the room, darkened by the sun and creaking in the soft wind that came through the door. Millions upon millions of shelves lined the walls and Venturi felt curiosity come over him. What’s in those books? What’s in the vials? He took a small step inside the room and felt hardened bristles of the navy blue carpet tickle his paws as he pressed down to make sure there were no traps. Huh, he thought as he found out there were none. I expected something at least. The curtains to his left and his right fluttered in the cooling breeze of the Windsinger’s, aiming to reach the ceiling above but never truly reaching it. Silken spider webs glittered in the corners of the room and on the shelves, casting the very early morning sunlight in his direction with a small sway in the wind.
“Hello?” he called out cautiously. “Equinox?”
A crash sounded to his left and he yelped, stumbling backwards into a row of shelves. He felt his damaged wing clip the shelf to his side and knock it off its hinges, crashing down next to his paw and only missing it by a few centimetres. It caused him to yip and yap again as he walked backwards... into a nest of spider webs. He could feel the pain and hear the screams of the spiders as he ripped and clawed his way out of the nest of silk strings and backed himself into a fabric wall, tumbling through it with a cry.
He fell to the floor, tangled in pearly white and speckles of fiery orange sunlight, feeling a much softer rug comfort his landing. Where am I? He fought against the entangling strings of soft material and eventually got the worst of it off. Venturi found himself staring at the foot of an old oak-wood bed, and turned to face... a deep sky-blue Wildclaw staring back at him with confusion.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, struggling and tripping over words repeatedly. “I thought this was the home of Equinox. He’s-“
“I know who he is, my friend,” the larger – much larger – dragon replied calmly. Carefully.
“Oh good!” he exclaimed. “You’ll help me find him, right?” He couldn’t keep the command and the snap of temper out of his voice, and regret tightened around his heart.
The older one just chuckled as if something was obvious, stirring his temper. “How do you know you’re not looking at him?”
“Because he’s in Necromancer silks and leathers and-“
“What,” he cried mockingly, “do you think I’d sleep in my silks and other items?”
Realisation slowly dawned on him as he properly looked at the Wildclaw. He was paler than he thought now that the sun had risen a slight bit more, and he had eyes as dark as rubies that shone against the blue. He was actually wearing some of his Necromancer silks, along with some enchanted jewellery, but mostly he was wearing sleeping leathers. “Oh,” was all he could say.
---
He heard Equinox – a now-friend of his own – cry out his name as the ground reached up to greet him. Pain smashed through his body, his bones and his very soul, but all the evidence he could give was a small gasp and a small grimace. Red flashed in front of his vision as he landed on his once-damaged wing, waiting for the end to come. He could feel the Chimera come closer, and he knew he could do more than lie there and wait, but he felt that he couldn’t move. Venturi just watched as the past few months flashed before his eyes.
The vial Equinox had given him had worked better than expected. At first, he thought the Wildclaw was a fluke, a fake. He thought he’d just be drinking sickly-flavoured water. But through the night, he could feel his body shifting. Changing to fit what he was meant to be. His wing that had once been a useless little thing now fit him like a charm, and the skin was no longer stretched and creased. He’d flown for the first time ever that same night, marvelling at the effects of the vial and going to Equinox again that night to thank him.
Only to find out Equinox hadn’t been there.
Another dragon had been. Venturi had found out that it was Equinox’s second half, a male called Solstice. He looked like a polar opposite of the necromancer, and Venturi’s senses had screamed at him to keep away... that this dragon was purely evil. He had done, not bothering to go on. But he had left a note, and he’d found the dragon at his door the next day but he was back to normal. Must’ve been a trick of the light, he let himself think.
And now here he was, a few weeks later, waiting for his end. He felt proud to die fighting instead of dying of sickness, but he wished he could’ve fought more battles. He’d fought enough, his many scars proved that much, but he still wished he’d been able to fight more. He watched as the Chimera came closer, a blade in its ragged claws and its teeth bared, ready for the kill. The red Wildclaw closed his eyes, waiting, to find that nothing came; only a strong wind. He opened one of his eyes with agonizing effort to find that the Chimera had been thrown away and was now lying motionless on the floor. Dead, but from what?
He didn’t have time to wonder before the darkness and peace enclosed its soft paws around his eyes and lulled him into unconsciousness.
---
He woke up disorientated. The world around him kept spinning and spinning slowly. The cooling breeze was welcome against his rough, sore skin, and the warming sun let him have the pleasure of warmth that hadn’t been there however-long earlier. Then it hit him. Am I dead? He looked around properly to find that Equinox was trotting slowly behind him, picking up numerous plants that he didn’t know the meaning of.
“Uh, Equinox?” he asked, surprised to hear his gruff voice sound so calm for once. “Why am I floating?”
The Wildclaw just looked up at him, shock growing on his face. “Oh sweet Deities! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, just get me down,” he pleaded.
“Of course,” was his only answer.
Hope this makes a bit more sense of things!
Made by @/Ozie.
Half an hour. Half an hour of being in a ditch, and he still wasn’t out. The little dragon cursed his small wings and stared at the eggshell that was once his to live in. It’d had a shimmering, golden exterior that caught the light at so many angles, and the interior had been softer than silk. Now, it looked beaten and scratched as Venturi had taken his anger out on it. He’d considered trying to repair it, but had scoffed at himself for such an idea. It’s inanimate, he told himself, and so it doesn’t have feelings. The small hatchling stared up at the violet sky above him and chirped, hoping for someone to hear him. He could see the sun’s rays dying against the thickness of the fog, and knew that the Chimera would come out soon. A shudder raced through him as he chirped again, louder, and flapped him tiny, battered wings in an attempt to fly.
“Hello?” he made himself say. “Is anyone there?”
Ticks felt like bells as he waited for a response. Nothing.
“Stupid dragons,” he growled. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this myself.”
He continued to flap his Persian red wings, kicking up dust and rocks and pebbles. Many hit his delicate form, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The ditch was his main concern. It was about three Wildclaws tall and double that in width. Anger ripped at his muscles, his heart, as he flapped continuously with little change. Just more pebbles to greet him and mock his efforts.
“What use is a dragon that can’t fly?” he cried out, mostly to himself than anyone else as he let his wings fall to his sides in shame, despair. Anger. He let himself examine them, and saw that they were nowhere near ready for flight.
His left wing was perfect, as straight and as durable as it could be, but his right… his right was bent, probably crushed from being thrown into a pit. A growl rose in his throat as he saw that his right also had stretch marks all over the skin, and a small rip near the hook of his wing.
“Useless wings,” he sneered, letting them fold up again as he sought a way out of the pit through climbing.
This could take a while, he thought sadly as he placed his paw on the first rock he could reach and hauled himself upwards.
---
“Back off!” Venturi yelled as the Wildclaw drew closer to him. “I told you, back off!”
“Hey, I’m not here to hurt you, kiddo,” was all the Wildclaw said, staring at the book Venturi was holding in his roughened paws. “I just wanted to ask where you found that book.”
“Nowhere,” he snapped.
“Well, you must’ve done or you wouldn’t have it.” So calm. He must’ve done this kind of thing before.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because it was made by the Necromancer Equinox. He’s made plenty of them. I was wondering if you were a fan.”
“Equinox?” Venturi enquired, arching an eyebrow and taking in the Wildclaw that stood before him. He was a shade of gold, darker than it but not too dark, and he wore jewellery finer than any Venturi had seen. He had curling horns raising from his head, and an Arcane mark shone above his head like a pink-tinted halo. His eyes were of the same shade, shining out against his dark coloured skin, and Venturi caught the dance of fire-lit candles floating eternally behind the Wildclaw’s horns, as if curious of the event unfurling beneath them.
“Yeah,” the dark-coloured dragon replied. “He helped me out with my transformation.”
“Transformation?”
He only nodded. “Yep. I used to be a Nocturne, like you, but he helped me out. I didn’t like being a Nocturne, and yet-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venturi snapped again, refusing to believe a single word he was saying, “I suppose that he also helped you with some other stuff too? Like, I don’t know, dealing with it?”
“Yeah, he did,” the Wildclaw said, confusion and frustration clouding his sunrise-pink eyes. “You know, kiddo, if you feel the same way I do… I could always lead you to him.”
Venturi readied a comeback and was about to snap at him for suggesting such a ludicrous idea, but then it hit him. He’d been trying to change himself by using this Equinox’s work, but it hadn’t worked, so why not go to the dragon instead? “Okay,” he replied gruffly, annoyed by having failed at his argument, “where is he?”
The Wildclaw pointed in the direction of the setting sun with a calloused and scarred paw like his own. A fighter, the Nocturne wondered. “He lives to the West, towards Wind territory. Oh, and I’m Nictan.”
“Venturi.”
“Well, it was nice being yelled at by you, Venturi,” Nictan replied with an amused blink of his eyes before turning his back on the small dragon.
“Wait.”
The Wildclaw – Nictan – stopped in his track and turned to face Venturi. “Yes?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Venturi said, not sarcastically.
“Anytime.”
Venturi felt the blazing heat of the afternoon sun against his scales in that moment, now that the Wildclaw was no longer towering over him. The cooling breeze that had been there moments before was now no longer evident to have even existed, and Venturi felt a river of sweat glide its way down the side of his face as he looked to the West and slumped to the floor. I got out of a ditch, he thought angrily, and this is what I get? More travelling?
The dragon sighed with a large huff of his breath and stood, facing the challenge to become who he wanted to be.
---
‘Are you kidding me’, was the only thought that ran through the dragon’s mind as he stared at the chipped wooden door that stood to the Necromancer’s cave. The local Tradesman, who’d just rolled away with his familiar, had let him hitch a ride for the journey after seeing his paws were bleeding from the rocks and countless sharp objects littering the earth of the Shadow realm. He looked pretty happy to let him hitch a ride, but his face had truly lit up when the Nocturne had mentioned Equinox’s name, falling into a whole other story about how he’d helped him with something or other. Venturi hadn’t listened, only wondered if Equinox would actually help him.
What if he doesn’t?
What if he isn’t even there?
What if he’s dead?
Venturi had to shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts multiple times, but still they crept back in to his mind like mice to a hole in the wall; always coming back. And now here he stood before a rickety, shabby cave entrance wondering if the guy actually was dead. He took it upon himself to knock lightly on the door, and it just opened. Just like that... opened. No locking mechanism, nothing. Confusion and anger cornered his vision as he stared into the slowly unfurling room before him.
It was dusty. That was the first thing he’d noticed; small specks of floating dust that shimmered and glimmered in the sunlight. There was a desk in the centre of the room, darkened by the sun and creaking in the soft wind that came through the door. Millions upon millions of shelves lined the walls and Venturi felt curiosity come over him. What’s in those books? What’s in the vials? He took a small step inside the room and felt hardened bristles of the navy blue carpet tickle his paws as he pressed down to make sure there were no traps. Huh, he thought as he found out there were none. I expected something at least. The curtains to his left and his right fluttered in the cooling breeze of the Windsinger’s, aiming to reach the ceiling above but never truly reaching it. Silken spider webs glittered in the corners of the room and on the shelves, casting the very early morning sunlight in his direction with a small sway in the wind.
“Hello?” he called out cautiously. “Equinox?”
A crash sounded to his left and he yelped, stumbling backwards into a row of shelves. He felt his damaged wing clip the shelf to his side and knock it off its hinges, crashing down next to his paw and only missing it by a few centimetres. It caused him to yip and yap again as he walked backwards... into a nest of spider webs. He could feel the pain and hear the screams of the spiders as he ripped and clawed his way out of the nest of silk strings and backed himself into a fabric wall, tumbling through it with a cry.
He fell to the floor, tangled in pearly white and speckles of fiery orange sunlight, feeling a much softer rug comfort his landing. Where am I? He fought against the entangling strings of soft material and eventually got the worst of it off. Venturi found himself staring at the foot of an old oak-wood bed, and turned to face... a deep sky-blue Wildclaw staring back at him with confusion.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, struggling and tripping over words repeatedly. “I thought this was the home of Equinox. He’s-“
“I know who he is, my friend,” the larger – much larger – dragon replied calmly. Carefully.
“Oh good!” he exclaimed. “You’ll help me find him, right?” He couldn’t keep the command and the snap of temper out of his voice, and regret tightened around his heart.
The older one just chuckled as if something was obvious, stirring his temper. “How do you know you’re not looking at him?”
“Because he’s in Necromancer silks and leathers and-“
“What,” he cried mockingly, “do you think I’d sleep in my silks and other items?”
Realisation slowly dawned on him as he properly looked at the Wildclaw. He was paler than he thought now that the sun had risen a slight bit more, and he had eyes as dark as rubies that shone against the blue. He was actually wearing some of his Necromancer silks, along with some enchanted jewellery, but mostly he was wearing sleeping leathers. “Oh,” was all he could say.
---
He heard Equinox – a now-friend of his own – cry out his name as the ground reached up to greet him. Pain smashed through his body, his bones and his very soul, but all the evidence he could give was a small gasp and a small grimace. Red flashed in front of his vision as he landed on his once-damaged wing, waiting for the end to come. He could feel the Chimera come closer, and he knew he could do more than lie there and wait, but he felt that he couldn’t move. Venturi just watched as the past few months flashed before his eyes.
The vial Equinox had given him had worked better than expected. At first, he thought the Wildclaw was a fluke, a fake. He thought he’d just be drinking sickly-flavoured water. But through the night, he could feel his body shifting. Changing to fit what he was meant to be. His wing that had once been a useless little thing now fit him like a charm, and the skin was no longer stretched and creased. He’d flown for the first time ever that same night, marvelling at the effects of the vial and going to Equinox again that night to thank him.
Only to find out Equinox hadn’t been there.
Another dragon had been. Venturi had found out that it was Equinox’s second half, a male called Solstice. He looked like a polar opposite of the necromancer, and Venturi’s senses had screamed at him to keep away... that this dragon was purely evil. He had done, not bothering to go on. But he had left a note, and he’d found the dragon at his door the next day but he was back to normal. Must’ve been a trick of the light, he let himself think.
And now here he was, a few weeks later, waiting for his end. He felt proud to die fighting instead of dying of sickness, but he wished he could’ve fought more battles. He’d fought enough, his many scars proved that much, but he still wished he’d been able to fight more. He watched as the Chimera came closer, a blade in its ragged claws and its teeth bared, ready for the kill. The red Wildclaw closed his eyes, waiting, to find that nothing came; only a strong wind. He opened one of his eyes with agonizing effort to find that the Chimera had been thrown away and was now lying motionless on the floor. Dead, but from what?
He didn’t have time to wonder before the darkness and peace enclosed its soft paws around his eyes and lulled him into unconsciousness.
---
He woke up disorientated. The world around him kept spinning and spinning slowly. The cooling breeze was welcome against his rough, sore skin, and the warming sun let him have the pleasure of warmth that hadn’t been there however-long earlier. Then it hit him. Am I dead? He looked around properly to find that Equinox was trotting slowly behind him, picking up numerous plants that he didn’t know the meaning of.
“Uh, Equinox?” he asked, surprised to hear his gruff voice sound so calm for once. “Why am I floating?”
The Wildclaw just looked up at him, shock growing on his face. “Oh sweet Deities! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, just get me down,” he pleaded.
“Of course,” was his only answer.
Hope this makes a bit more sense of things!
@Ouji Here's your second one! Enjoy!
Made by @/Ozie.
Half an hour. Half an hour of being in a ditch, and he still wasn’t out. The little dragon cursed his small wings and stared at the eggshell that was once his to live in. It’d had a shimmering, golden exterior that caught the light at so many angles, and the interior had been softer than silk. Now, it looked beaten and scratched as Venturi had taken his anger out on it. He’d considered trying to repair it, but had scoffed at himself for such an idea. It’s inanimate, he told himself, and so it doesn’t have feelings. The small hatchling stared up at the violet sky above him and chirped, hoping for someone to hear him. He could see the sun’s rays dying against the thickness of the fog, and knew that the Chimera would come out soon. A shudder raced through him as he chirped again, louder, and flapped him tiny, battered wings in an attempt to fly.
“Hello?” he made himself say. “Is anyone there?”
Ticks felt like bells as he waited for a response. Nothing.
“Stupid dragons,” he growled. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this myself.”
He continued to flap his Persian red wings, kicking up dust and rocks and pebbles. Many hit his delicate form, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The ditch was his main concern. It was about three Wildclaws tall and double that in width. Anger ripped at his muscles, his heart, as he flapped continuously with little change. Just more pebbles to greet him and mock his efforts.
“What use is a dragon that can’t fly?” he cried out, mostly to himself than anyone else as he let his wings fall to his sides in shame, despair. Anger. He let himself examine them, and saw that they were nowhere near ready for flight.
His left wing was perfect, as straight and as durable as it could be, but his right… his right was bent, probably crushed from being thrown into a pit. A growl rose in his throat as he saw that his right also had stretch marks all over the skin, and a small rip near the hook of his wing.
“Useless wings,” he sneered, letting them fold up again as he sought a way out of the pit through climbing.
This could take a while, he thought sadly as he placed his paw on the first rock he could reach and hauled himself upwards.
---
“Back off!” Venturi yelled as the Wildclaw drew closer to him. “I told you, back off!”
“Hey, I’m not here to hurt you, kiddo,” was all the Wildclaw said, staring at the book Venturi was holding in his roughened paws. “I just wanted to ask where you found that book.”
“Nowhere,” he snapped.
“Well, you must’ve done or you wouldn’t have it.” So calm. He must’ve done this kind of thing before.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because it was made by the Necromancer Equinox. He’s made plenty of them. I was wondering if you were a fan.”
“Equinox?” Venturi enquired, arching an eyebrow and taking in the Wildclaw that stood before him. He was a shade of gold, darker than it but not too dark, and he wore jewellery finer than any Venturi had seen. He had curling horns raising from his head, and an Arcane mark shone above his head like a pink-tinted halo. His eyes were of the same shade, shining out against his dark coloured skin, and Venturi caught the dance of fire-lit candles floating eternally behind the Wildclaw’s horns, as if curious of the event unfurling beneath them.
“Yeah,” the dark-coloured dragon replied. “He helped me out with my transformation.”
“Transformation?”
He only nodded. “Yep. I used to be a Nocturne, like you, but he helped me out. I didn’t like being a Nocturne, and yet-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venturi snapped again, refusing to believe a single word he was saying, “I suppose that he also helped you with some other stuff too? Like, I don’t know, dealing with it?”
“Yeah, he did,” the Wildclaw said, confusion and frustration clouding his sunrise-pink eyes. “You know, kiddo, if you feel the same way I do… I could always lead you to him.”
Venturi readied a comeback and was about to snap at him for suggesting such a ludicrous idea, but then it hit him. He’d been trying to change himself by using this Equinox’s work, but it hadn’t worked, so why not go to the dragon instead? “Okay,” he replied gruffly, annoyed by having failed at his argument, “where is he?”
The Wildclaw pointed in the direction of the setting sun with a calloused and scarred paw like his own. A fighter, the Nocturne wondered. “He lives to the West, towards Wind territory. Oh, and I’m Nictan.”
“Venturi.”
“Well, it was nice being yelled at by you, Venturi,” Nictan replied with an amused blink of his eyes before turning his back on the small dragon.
“Wait.”
The Wildclaw – Nictan – stopped in his track and turned to face Venturi. “Yes?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Venturi said, not sarcastically.
“Anytime.”
Venturi felt the blazing heat of the afternoon sun against his scales in that moment, now that the Wildclaw was no longer towering over him. The cooling breeze that had been there moments before was now no longer evident to have even existed, and Venturi felt a river of sweat glide its way down the side of his face as he looked to the West and slumped to the floor. I got out of a ditch, he thought angrily, and this is what I get? More travelling?
The dragon sighed with a large huff of his breath and stood, facing the challenge to become who he wanted to be.
---
‘Are you kidding me’, was the only thought that ran through the dragon’s mind as he stared at the chipped wooden door that stood to the Necromancer’s cave. The local Tradesman, who’d just rolled away with his familiar, had let him hitch a ride for the journey after seeing his paws were bleeding from the rocks and countless sharp objects littering the earth of the Shadow realm. He looked pretty happy to let him hitch a ride, but his face had truly lit up when the Nocturne had mentioned Equinox’s name, falling into a whole other story about how he’d helped him with something or other. Venturi hadn’t listened, only wondered if Equinox would actually help him.
What if he doesn’t?
What if he isn’t even there?
What if he’s dead?
Venturi had to shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts multiple times, but still they crept back in to his mind like mice to a hole in the wall; always coming back. And now here he stood before a rickety, shabby cave entrance wondering if the guy actually was dead. He took it upon himself to knock lightly on the door, and it just opened. Just like that... opened. No locking mechanism, nothing. Confusion and anger cornered his vision as he stared into the slowly unfurling room before him.
It was dusty. That was the first thing he’d noticed; small specks of floating dust that shimmered and glimmered in the sunlight. There was a desk in the centre of the room, darkened by the sun and creaking in the soft wind that came through the door. Millions upon millions of shelves lined the walls and Venturi felt curiosity come over him. What’s in those books? What’s in the vials? He took a small step inside the room and felt hardened bristles of the navy blue carpet tickle his paws as he pressed down to make sure there were no traps. Huh, he thought as he found out there were none. I expected something at least. The curtains to his left and his right fluttered in the cooling breeze of the Windsinger’s, aiming to reach the ceiling above but never truly reaching it. Silken spider webs glittered in the corners of the room and on the shelves, casting the very early morning sunlight in his direction with a small sway in the wind.
“Hello?” he called out cautiously. “Equinox?”
A crash sounded to his left and he yelped, stumbling backwards into a row of shelves. He felt his damaged wing clip the shelf to his side and knock it off its hinges, crashing down next to his paw and only missing it by a few centimetres. It caused him to yip and yap again as he walked backwards... into a nest of spider webs. He could feel the pain and hear the screams of the spiders as he ripped and clawed his way out of the nest of silk strings and backed himself into a fabric wall, tumbling through it with a cry.
He fell to the floor, tangled in pearly white and speckles of fiery orange sunlight, feeling a much softer rug comfort his landing. Where am I? He fought against the entangling strings of soft material and eventually got the worst of it off. Venturi found himself staring at the foot of an old oak-wood bed, and turned to face... a deep sky-blue Wildclaw staring back at him with confusion.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, struggling and tripping over words repeatedly. “I thought this was the home of Equinox. He’s-“
“I know who he is, my friend,” the larger – much larger – dragon replied calmly. Carefully.
“Oh good!” he exclaimed. “You’ll help me find him, right?” He couldn’t keep the command and the snap of temper out of his voice, and regret tightened around his heart.
The older one just chuckled as if something was obvious, stirring his temper. “How do you know you’re not looking at him?”
“Because he’s in Necromancer silks and leathers and-“
“What,” he cried mockingly, “do you think I’d sleep in my silks and other items?”
Realisation slowly dawned on him as he properly looked at the Wildclaw. He was paler than he thought now that the sun had risen a slight bit more, and he had eyes as dark as rubies that shone against the blue. He was actually wearing some of his Necromancer silks, along with some enchanted jewellery, but mostly he was wearing sleeping leathers. “Oh,” was all he could say.
---
He heard Equinox – a now-friend of his own – cry out his name as the ground reached up to greet him. Pain smashed through his body, his bones and his very soul, but all the evidence he could give was a small gasp and a small grimace. Red flashed in front of his vision as he landed on his once-damaged wing, waiting for the end to come. He could feel the Chimera come closer, and he knew he could do more than lie there and wait, but he felt that he couldn’t move. Venturi just watched as the past few months flashed before his eyes.
The vial Equinox had given him had worked better than expected. At first, he thought the Wildclaw was a fluke, a fake. He thought he’d just be drinking sickly-flavoured water. But through the night, he could feel his body shifting. Changing to fit what he was meant to be. His wing that had once been a useless little thing now fit him like a charm, and the skin was no longer stretched and creased. He’d flown for the first time ever that same night, marvelling at the effects of the vial and going to Equinox again that night to thank him.
Only to find out Equinox hadn’t been there.
Another dragon had been. Venturi had found out that it was Equinox’s second half, a male called Solstice. He looked like a polar opposite of the necromancer, and Venturi’s senses had screamed at him to keep away... that this dragon was purely evil. He had done, not bothering to go on. But he had left a note, and he’d found the dragon at his door the next day but he was back to normal. Must’ve been a trick of the light, he let himself think.
And now here he was, a few weeks later, waiting for his end. He felt proud to die fighting instead of dying of sickness, but he wished he could’ve fought more battles. He’d fought enough, his many scars proved that much, but he still wished he’d been able to fight more. He watched as the Chimera came closer, a blade in its ragged claws and its teeth bared, ready for the kill. The red Wildclaw closed his eyes, waiting, to find that nothing came; only a strong wind. He opened one of his eyes with agonizing effort to find that the Chimera had been thrown away and was now lying motionless on the floor. Dead, but from what?
He didn’t have time to wonder before the darkness and peace enclosed its soft paws around his eyes and lulled him into unconsciousness.
---
He woke up disorientated. The world around him kept spinning and spinning slowly. The cooling breeze was welcome against his rough, sore skin, and the warming sun let him have the pleasure of warmth that hadn’t been there however-long earlier. Then it hit him. Am I dead? He looked around properly to find that Equinox was trotting slowly behind him, picking up numerous plants that he didn’t know the meaning of.
“Uh, Equinox?” he asked, surprised to hear his gruff voice sound so calm for once. “Why am I floating?”
The Wildclaw just looked up at him, shock growing on his face. “Oh sweet Deities! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, just get me down,” he pleaded.
“Of course,” was his only answer.
Hope this makes a bit more sense of things!
Made by @/Ozie.
Half an hour. Half an hour of being in a ditch, and he still wasn’t out. The little dragon cursed his small wings and stared at the eggshell that was once his to live in. It’d had a shimmering, golden exterior that caught the light at so many angles, and the interior had been softer than silk. Now, it looked beaten and scratched as Venturi had taken his anger out on it. He’d considered trying to repair it, but had scoffed at himself for such an idea. It’s inanimate, he told himself, and so it doesn’t have feelings. The small hatchling stared up at the violet sky above him and chirped, hoping for someone to hear him. He could see the sun’s rays dying against the thickness of the fog, and knew that the Chimera would come out soon. A shudder raced through him as he chirped again, louder, and flapped him tiny, battered wings in an attempt to fly.
“Hello?” he made himself say. “Is anyone there?”
Ticks felt like bells as he waited for a response. Nothing.
“Stupid dragons,” he growled. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this myself.”
He continued to flap his Persian red wings, kicking up dust and rocks and pebbles. Many hit his delicate form, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The ditch was his main concern. It was about three Wildclaws tall and double that in width. Anger ripped at his muscles, his heart, as he flapped continuously with little change. Just more pebbles to greet him and mock his efforts.
“What use is a dragon that can’t fly?” he cried out, mostly to himself than anyone else as he let his wings fall to his sides in shame, despair. Anger. He let himself examine them, and saw that they were nowhere near ready for flight.
His left wing was perfect, as straight and as durable as it could be, but his right… his right was bent, probably crushed from being thrown into a pit. A growl rose in his throat as he saw that his right also had stretch marks all over the skin, and a small rip near the hook of his wing.
“Useless wings,” he sneered, letting them fold up again as he sought a way out of the pit through climbing.
This could take a while, he thought sadly as he placed his paw on the first rock he could reach and hauled himself upwards.
---
“Back off!” Venturi yelled as the Wildclaw drew closer to him. “I told you, back off!”
“Hey, I’m not here to hurt you, kiddo,” was all the Wildclaw said, staring at the book Venturi was holding in his roughened paws. “I just wanted to ask where you found that book.”
“Nowhere,” he snapped.
“Well, you must’ve done or you wouldn’t have it.” So calm. He must’ve done this kind of thing before.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because it was made by the Necromancer Equinox. He’s made plenty of them. I was wondering if you were a fan.”
“Equinox?” Venturi enquired, arching an eyebrow and taking in the Wildclaw that stood before him. He was a shade of gold, darker than it but not too dark, and he wore jewellery finer than any Venturi had seen. He had curling horns raising from his head, and an Arcane mark shone above his head like a pink-tinted halo. His eyes were of the same shade, shining out against his dark coloured skin, and Venturi caught the dance of fire-lit candles floating eternally behind the Wildclaw’s horns, as if curious of the event unfurling beneath them.
“Yeah,” the dark-coloured dragon replied. “He helped me out with my transformation.”
“Transformation?”
He only nodded. “Yep. I used to be a Nocturne, like you, but he helped me out. I didn’t like being a Nocturne, and yet-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Venturi snapped again, refusing to believe a single word he was saying, “I suppose that he also helped you with some other stuff too? Like, I don’t know, dealing with it?”
“Yeah, he did,” the Wildclaw said, confusion and frustration clouding his sunrise-pink eyes. “You know, kiddo, if you feel the same way I do… I could always lead you to him.”
Venturi readied a comeback and was about to snap at him for suggesting such a ludicrous idea, but then it hit him. He’d been trying to change himself by using this Equinox’s work, but it hadn’t worked, so why not go to the dragon instead? “Okay,” he replied gruffly, annoyed by having failed at his argument, “where is he?”
The Wildclaw pointed in the direction of the setting sun with a calloused and scarred paw like his own. A fighter, the Nocturne wondered. “He lives to the West, towards Wind territory. Oh, and I’m Nictan.”
“Venturi.”
“Well, it was nice being yelled at by you, Venturi,” Nictan replied with an amused blink of his eyes before turning his back on the small dragon.
“Wait.”
The Wildclaw – Nictan – stopped in his track and turned to face Venturi. “Yes?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Venturi said, not sarcastically.
“Anytime.”
Venturi felt the blazing heat of the afternoon sun against his scales in that moment, now that the Wildclaw was no longer towering over him. The cooling breeze that had been there moments before was now no longer evident to have even existed, and Venturi felt a river of sweat glide its way down the side of his face as he looked to the West and slumped to the floor. I got out of a ditch, he thought angrily, and this is what I get? More travelling?
The dragon sighed with a large huff of his breath and stood, facing the challenge to become who he wanted to be.
---
‘Are you kidding me’, was the only thought that ran through the dragon’s mind as he stared at the chipped wooden door that stood to the Necromancer’s cave. The local Tradesman, who’d just rolled away with his familiar, had let him hitch a ride for the journey after seeing his paws were bleeding from the rocks and countless sharp objects littering the earth of the Shadow realm. He looked pretty happy to let him hitch a ride, but his face had truly lit up when the Nocturne had mentioned Equinox’s name, falling into a whole other story about how he’d helped him with something or other. Venturi hadn’t listened, only wondered if Equinox would actually help him.
What if he doesn’t?
What if he isn’t even there?
What if he’s dead?
Venturi had to shake his head to rid himself of the thoughts multiple times, but still they crept back in to his mind like mice to a hole in the wall; always coming back. And now here he stood before a rickety, shabby cave entrance wondering if the guy actually was dead. He took it upon himself to knock lightly on the door, and it just opened. Just like that... opened. No locking mechanism, nothing. Confusion and anger cornered his vision as he stared into the slowly unfurling room before him.
It was dusty. That was the first thing he’d noticed; small specks of floating dust that shimmered and glimmered in the sunlight. There was a desk in the centre of the room, darkened by the sun and creaking in the soft wind that came through the door. Millions upon millions of shelves lined the walls and Venturi felt curiosity come over him. What’s in those books? What’s in the vials? He took a small step inside the room and felt hardened bristles of the navy blue carpet tickle his paws as he pressed down to make sure there were no traps. Huh, he thought as he found out there were none. I expected something at least. The curtains to his left and his right fluttered in the cooling breeze of the Windsinger’s, aiming to reach the ceiling above but never truly reaching it. Silken spider webs glittered in the corners of the room and on the shelves, casting the very early morning sunlight in his direction with a small sway in the wind.
“Hello?” he called out cautiously. “Equinox?”
A crash sounded to his left and he yelped, stumbling backwards into a row of shelves. He felt his damaged wing clip the shelf to his side and knock it off its hinges, crashing down next to his paw and only missing it by a few centimetres. It caused him to yip and yap again as he walked backwards... into a nest of spider webs. He could feel the pain and hear the screams of the spiders as he ripped and clawed his way out of the nest of silk strings and backed himself into a fabric wall, tumbling through it with a cry.
He fell to the floor, tangled in pearly white and speckles of fiery orange sunlight, feeling a much softer rug comfort his landing. Where am I? He fought against the entangling strings of soft material and eventually got the worst of it off. Venturi found himself staring at the foot of an old oak-wood bed, and turned to face... a deep sky-blue Wildclaw staring back at him with confusion.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered, struggling and tripping over words repeatedly. “I thought this was the home of Equinox. He’s-“
“I know who he is, my friend,” the larger – much larger – dragon replied calmly. Carefully.
“Oh good!” he exclaimed. “You’ll help me find him, right?” He couldn’t keep the command and the snap of temper out of his voice, and regret tightened around his heart.
The older one just chuckled as if something was obvious, stirring his temper. “How do you know you’re not looking at him?”
“Because he’s in Necromancer silks and leathers and-“
“What,” he cried mockingly, “do you think I’d sleep in my silks and other items?”
Realisation slowly dawned on him as he properly looked at the Wildclaw. He was paler than he thought now that the sun had risen a slight bit more, and he had eyes as dark as rubies that shone against the blue. He was actually wearing some of his Necromancer silks, along with some enchanted jewellery, but mostly he was wearing sleeping leathers. “Oh,” was all he could say.
---
He heard Equinox – a now-friend of his own – cry out his name as the ground reached up to greet him. Pain smashed through his body, his bones and his very soul, but all the evidence he could give was a small gasp and a small grimace. Red flashed in front of his vision as he landed on his once-damaged wing, waiting for the end to come. He could feel the Chimera come closer, and he knew he could do more than lie there and wait, but he felt that he couldn’t move. Venturi just watched as the past few months flashed before his eyes.
The vial Equinox had given him had worked better than expected. At first, he thought the Wildclaw was a fluke, a fake. He thought he’d just be drinking sickly-flavoured water. But through the night, he could feel his body shifting. Changing to fit what he was meant to be. His wing that had once been a useless little thing now fit him like a charm, and the skin was no longer stretched and creased. He’d flown for the first time ever that same night, marvelling at the effects of the vial and going to Equinox again that night to thank him.
Only to find out Equinox hadn’t been there.
Another dragon had been. Venturi had found out that it was Equinox’s second half, a male called Solstice. He looked like a polar opposite of the necromancer, and Venturi’s senses had screamed at him to keep away... that this dragon was purely evil. He had done, not bothering to go on. But he had left a note, and he’d found the dragon at his door the next day but he was back to normal. Must’ve been a trick of the light, he let himself think.
And now here he was, a few weeks later, waiting for his end. He felt proud to die fighting instead of dying of sickness, but he wished he could’ve fought more battles. He’d fought enough, his many scars proved that much, but he still wished he’d been able to fight more. He watched as the Chimera came closer, a blade in its ragged claws and its teeth bared, ready for the kill. The red Wildclaw closed his eyes, waiting, to find that nothing came; only a strong wind. He opened one of his eyes with agonizing effort to find that the Chimera had been thrown away and was now lying motionless on the floor. Dead, but from what?
He didn’t have time to wonder before the darkness and peace enclosed its soft paws around his eyes and lulled him into unconsciousness.
---
He woke up disorientated. The world around him kept spinning and spinning slowly. The cooling breeze was welcome against his rough, sore skin, and the warming sun let him have the pleasure of warmth that hadn’t been there however-long earlier. Then it hit him. Am I dead? He looked around properly to find that Equinox was trotting slowly behind him, picking up numerous plants that he didn’t know the meaning of.
“Uh, Equinox?” he asked, surprised to hear his gruff voice sound so calm for once. “Why am I floating?”
The Wildclaw just looked up at him, shock growing on his face. “Oh sweet Deities! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, just get me down,” he pleaded.
“Of course,” was his only answer.
Hope this makes a bit more sense of things!
@Ouji Your third and final piece is completed! Thank you for asking me to write these, they were so much fun! And @Peyp yours will be written soon! I hope you enjoy them once they're finished.
---
Made by @/Ozie. (27/1/18)
He woke up to the sound of baby dragons chirping for their food and adults fussing over their own children. The smell of fresh meat, bugs and seafood filled his nose, making his stomach react with a growl that sounded a lot like, “Feed me or you’ll suffer”. The little dragon turned his gaze skyward, towards the canopy of jade-green trees above where the choir of birds sang and the branches played their ever-wooden instruments in the Windsinger’s chiming, soft gale that blew through the cracks in the wall of birch and oak. Leaves of all shapes and sizes brushed against his skin gently as he shifted to see his adoptive mother looking down on him.
His mother was a Wildclaw; she had eyes greener than an emerald and her scales looked smooth to the touch. Her wings were a lovely, darkened shade of brown, her body a darkened grey, and she had runes symbolizing her alliance all along her neck and arms, all the way down to her paws. In one of her delicate paws was a slab of deer meat from the surrounding woods, and just staring at it made the youngling’s mouth water.
“Morning, sunshine,” she cooed, handing him the slab of raw meat. It barely touched the ground before it was gone again, on its way to being dissolved into energy. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, mama!” he exclaimed, shrugging off a blanket of leaves and standing on wobbly legs to face his adoptive parent.
“That’s good,” she replied, placing a soft paw on the Nocturne’s cheek and stroking away a stray bit of meat.
“Momma, do I have a name yet? I really want a name!”
“I know you do, that’s what I was going to talk to you about.” Her lips pulled into a soft, heart-warming smile that melted the little dragon’s heart. “I was thinking you could be called Sulphur, or-“
“Nictan!” he cried happily, jumping up and down.
His mother just laughed, brushed a stray leaf in which he had kicked up from his jumping off of his nose. “Nictan it is, then,” was her reply.
The Nocturne smiled up at his mother, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
What if I was like her?
---
“Tui, get down from there! It’s not safe!”
Nictan panted in spite of resting for the past few ticks, watching his son climb up the trees surrounding them with his mate, Villia. The pair had talked about what would be best for their son - military training, to be exact. The young Nocturne was always admiring his brothers and sisters for their work in the army, and he always said he wanted to be like them despite how much his dear father told him it was dangerous.
“But I want to!” he’d always cry, in spite of his father’s attempts to make him stay away.
“But Tui-“
“No!” he’d then scream, charging past him to the barracks that lay just beyond their walls. He’d go there a few times a week, training with an old softie called Equinox, a Necromancer to the local land of the Shadowbinder. Despite how the Shadowbinder and the Gladekeeper hated each other – sibling rivalry – they let the dragons pass through their lands with ease and little discomfort.
“But dad, I’m almost at the top!” he cried from his perch on the branches. “Please let me get to the top.”
“Tui, please,” Villia cut in, “We both want you to come down. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“But I want to prove to the old man that I’m capable of fighting!” he growled.
That hit Nictan like a blow to the stomach. Old man, he thought. Am I really that old?
“Tui, get down! Now!”
Nictan heard his son groan a loathsome curse and flapped down towards the ground, glaring at his father on the way. Shame overcame Nictan’s heart as his son grew nearer to the ground. He’d already had to send away three children of his to the war between the Chimera and other Beastclans; he didn’t want to lose another. His mate was staring their son down as he landed, and he could see that it caused Tui discomfort.
“Villia,” he said softly, placing a paw on her tense shoulder. “It’s alright.”
“No, Nictan, it isn’t,” was all she replied with as she stalked off to find the younger of their two children, Hakaku.
Nictan only sighed, sitting himself down on a bench made out of silken moss and woven tree branches. He found himself staring in the direction of the Shadow realm, wondering how life was there; wondering if it’d be any different to the life in the Gladekeeper’s realm. He could see a monument of the Shadowbinder from where he sat, and he felt jealousy overtake him for those who stayed with her. As soon as he realised this feeling, he shook his head violent. He had a family to worry about.
“Dad?” Tui said, concern lacing his words as he looked at his father, and his father at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, son,” he replied sadly, glancing back at the shadowed monument and chuckling lightly. Ironic, isn’t it, he thought to himself. Ironic that the monument is permanently shadowed by the deeds the Shadowbinder has done for her land.
“No you’re not, dad,” his son said matter-of-factly. “You want to go live in the Shadow realm, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tui.”
“Yes it does, dad. It matters a lot. You don’t like it here. I can see that with my own eyes.” Tui sighed, staring at his own paws before continuing on. “Please, dad, don’t trouble yourself with us. Just go.”
“Son-“
“No. Go. I’ll look after mother. Just go.”
Nictan felt unshed tears come to his eyes and looked away from his child. His vision blurred all the shades of greens and pale beiges of the ground and trees around them blending into one mucky brown formation. “I don’t want to leave you, Tui, nor your mother or Hakaku. He’s so young and growing up without a father...”
“Dad,” Tui said gently. “I’ll look after him. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I-“
“Dad, please! Every time I’ve seen you ever since I hatched, you’ve gazed longingly towards the Shadow realm,” he cried, his eyes forming clear rivers down to his chin for the tears. “Just go!”
Nictan felt taken aback as he looked towards his deep-blue Nocturne child. He felt compelled to stay, but Tui was right. He wasn’t happy here. He longed to go to the Shadow realm, longed to see the world for what it really was. Not what it has been told to be.
“Do you promise you’ll stay in touch?” Nictan said with a voice that’s quiet and broken.
“Of course, dad,” Tui replied, charging towards his father and throwing his arms around him in what-could-be a final embrace. “I’ll always stay in touch.”
The two stayed like that for a good few ticks, not bearing to let the other go, but as soon as the father heard his mate’s voice snipe its way through the woods, he knew he had to say goodbye. It was tearful, he could say that much, to say goodbye to his only family, but he needed to go.
“I’m sorry,” he told them repeatedly, even after they could no longer hear him.
He’d miss them terribly.
---
“No!” Nictan cried, silencing the court room around him.
If you could call it that, anyway.
Flags of all colours waved in the wind in greeting to all of the court members, especially the leading dragons; Equinox, Venturi and himself. Windows littered the room at discarded and awkward angles, letting in slithers of golden-grey sunlight, casting off of the white tiles on the walls and floors. Cushions, chairs and tables of all shapes, colours and sizes sat around the edges of the room, allowing people to observe the event unfurling in front of their very eyes.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Venturi growled, his eyes piercing into Nictan’s heart and soul. “This guy took it upon himself to lead this clan into a war!”
“I’ll take him,” Nictan replied. “I’ll show him what’s to be done. I’ll-“
“Shut up, Nictan,” Venturi snapped.
“No. I’m not letting him get exiled. He’s just a kid. Have a heart, Venturi!”
“I agree with Venturi,” Equinox butted in, causing Venturi to throw a smug little smirk in his direction, stirring his eternal patience to become limited. “The kid did almost lead us into a war.”
“Please,” the snow-white Wildclaw in question pleaded, “I didn’t mean to. I’m... I’m sorry...”
“I’m sorry Serkan,” Equinox replied with a look of not-entirely-fake sadness. “We’re going to have to exile you.”
“You can’t, Equinox,” Nictan cried, his heart pounding. “Please, let me take him in. I’ll show him how things should be done.”
“That’s not a punishment. It’s a lesson. He needs to lose something.”
“Then take my freedom!” Serkan begged. “Take it all! Just let me stay.”
Ticks felt like bells as the older two – he hadn’t known Venturi had been older than him when he’d seen him as a Nocturne – whispered in a very secretive tone, occasionally gesturing towards Nictan and Serkan. The look on the young Wildclaw’s face made the golden dragon’s heart break in sorrow and sympathy for the guy. He’d been leading from a very young age; he’d barely been an adult when he started. The effort had been very visible, and still was on the youngling’s face. His eyes were tired with dark rings around his eyes that stood out against the snowy whiteness of his skin, and he looked feeble from lack of nutrition and the stress of leading so many at so young. Nictan could see, even if no one could look past the hatred in their hearts, that the poor guy never meant to start an uprising and possible civil war in the lair.
“Nictan,” Equinox called out, “come over here.”
The Wildclaw breathed a heaving sigh and curled his paws around each other in a show of anxiety as he approached. He knew he was the youngest of the pair, but he also knew he shouldn’t feel pressured by them. Yet Venturi was giving him a stare that would make even the Plaguebringer uncomfortable whilst Equinox, the oldest of the trio, was looking calm and collected as Nictan neared. The pressure in the air was getting heavier by the moment as he expected the worst to come from the Twilight-blue dragon’s mouth.
“We’ve decided,” Equinox said as calmly as can be, “that you can take the kid in. But he isn’t allowed to leave the house without a supervisor. Whether that is yourself or another member, I don’t mind. I know you can look after him and teach him what’s right.”
Pride and joy fluttered in Nictan’s stomach, and he could see the same with a single glance at the dragon in question.
“Thank you, Equinox.”
---
Enjoy. :)
---
Made by @/Ozie. (27/1/18)
He woke up to the sound of baby dragons chirping for their food and adults fussing over their own children. The smell of fresh meat, bugs and seafood filled his nose, making his stomach react with a growl that sounded a lot like, “Feed me or you’ll suffer”. The little dragon turned his gaze skyward, towards the canopy of jade-green trees above where the choir of birds sang and the branches played their ever-wooden instruments in the Windsinger’s chiming, soft gale that blew through the cracks in the wall of birch and oak. Leaves of all shapes and sizes brushed against his skin gently as he shifted to see his adoptive mother looking down on him.
His mother was a Wildclaw; she had eyes greener than an emerald and her scales looked smooth to the touch. Her wings were a lovely, darkened shade of brown, her body a darkened grey, and she had runes symbolizing her alliance all along her neck and arms, all the way down to her paws. In one of her delicate paws was a slab of deer meat from the surrounding woods, and just staring at it made the youngling’s mouth water.
“Morning, sunshine,” she cooed, handing him the slab of raw meat. It barely touched the ground before it was gone again, on its way to being dissolved into energy. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, mama!” he exclaimed, shrugging off a blanket of leaves and standing on wobbly legs to face his adoptive parent.
“That’s good,” she replied, placing a soft paw on the Nocturne’s cheek and stroking away a stray bit of meat.
“Momma, do I have a name yet? I really want a name!”
“I know you do, that’s what I was going to talk to you about.” Her lips pulled into a soft, heart-warming smile that melted the little dragon’s heart. “I was thinking you could be called Sulphur, or-“
“Nictan!” he cried happily, jumping up and down.
His mother just laughed, brushed a stray leaf in which he had kicked up from his jumping off of his nose. “Nictan it is, then,” was her reply.
The Nocturne smiled up at his mother, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
What if I was like her?
---
“Tui, get down from there! It’s not safe!”
Nictan panted in spite of resting for the past few ticks, watching his son climb up the trees surrounding them with his mate, Villia. The pair had talked about what would be best for their son - military training, to be exact. The young Nocturne was always admiring his brothers and sisters for their work in the army, and he always said he wanted to be like them despite how much his dear father told him it was dangerous.
“But I want to!” he’d always cry, in spite of his father’s attempts to make him stay away.
“But Tui-“
“No!” he’d then scream, charging past him to the barracks that lay just beyond their walls. He’d go there a few times a week, training with an old softie called Equinox, a Necromancer to the local land of the Shadowbinder. Despite how the Shadowbinder and the Gladekeeper hated each other – sibling rivalry – they let the dragons pass through their lands with ease and little discomfort.
“But dad, I’m almost at the top!” he cried from his perch on the branches. “Please let me get to the top.”
“Tui, please,” Villia cut in, “We both want you to come down. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“But I want to prove to the old man that I’m capable of fighting!” he growled.
That hit Nictan like a blow to the stomach. Old man, he thought. Am I really that old?
“Tui, get down! Now!”
Nictan heard his son groan a loathsome curse and flapped down towards the ground, glaring at his father on the way. Shame overcame Nictan’s heart as his son grew nearer to the ground. He’d already had to send away three children of his to the war between the Chimera and other Beastclans; he didn’t want to lose another. His mate was staring their son down as he landed, and he could see that it caused Tui discomfort.
“Villia,” he said softly, placing a paw on her tense shoulder. “It’s alright.”
“No, Nictan, it isn’t,” was all she replied with as she stalked off to find the younger of their two children, Hakaku.
Nictan only sighed, sitting himself down on a bench made out of silken moss and woven tree branches. He found himself staring in the direction of the Shadow realm, wondering how life was there; wondering if it’d be any different to the life in the Gladekeeper’s realm. He could see a monument of the Shadowbinder from where he sat, and he felt jealousy overtake him for those who stayed with her. As soon as he realised this feeling, he shook his head violent. He had a family to worry about.
“Dad?” Tui said, concern lacing his words as he looked at his father, and his father at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, son,” he replied sadly, glancing back at the shadowed monument and chuckling lightly. Ironic, isn’t it, he thought to himself. Ironic that the monument is permanently shadowed by the deeds the Shadowbinder has done for her land.
“No you’re not, dad,” his son said matter-of-factly. “You want to go live in the Shadow realm, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tui.”
“Yes it does, dad. It matters a lot. You don’t like it here. I can see that with my own eyes.” Tui sighed, staring at his own paws before continuing on. “Please, dad, don’t trouble yourself with us. Just go.”
“Son-“
“No. Go. I’ll look after mother. Just go.”
Nictan felt unshed tears come to his eyes and looked away from his child. His vision blurred all the shades of greens and pale beiges of the ground and trees around them blending into one mucky brown formation. “I don’t want to leave you, Tui, nor your mother or Hakaku. He’s so young and growing up without a father...”
“Dad,” Tui said gently. “I’ll look after him. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I-“
“Dad, please! Every time I’ve seen you ever since I hatched, you’ve gazed longingly towards the Shadow realm,” he cried, his eyes forming clear rivers down to his chin for the tears. “Just go!”
Nictan felt taken aback as he looked towards his deep-blue Nocturne child. He felt compelled to stay, but Tui was right. He wasn’t happy here. He longed to go to the Shadow realm, longed to see the world for what it really was. Not what it has been told to be.
“Do you promise you’ll stay in touch?” Nictan said with a voice that’s quiet and broken.
“Of course, dad,” Tui replied, charging towards his father and throwing his arms around him in what-could-be a final embrace. “I’ll always stay in touch.”
The two stayed like that for a good few ticks, not bearing to let the other go, but as soon as the father heard his mate’s voice snipe its way through the woods, he knew he had to say goodbye. It was tearful, he could say that much, to say goodbye to his only family, but he needed to go.
“I’m sorry,” he told them repeatedly, even after they could no longer hear him.
He’d miss them terribly.
---
“No!” Nictan cried, silencing the court room around him.
If you could call it that, anyway.
Flags of all colours waved in the wind in greeting to all of the court members, especially the leading dragons; Equinox, Venturi and himself. Windows littered the room at discarded and awkward angles, letting in slithers of golden-grey sunlight, casting off of the white tiles on the walls and floors. Cushions, chairs and tables of all shapes, colours and sizes sat around the edges of the room, allowing people to observe the event unfurling in front of their very eyes.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Venturi growled, his eyes piercing into Nictan’s heart and soul. “This guy took it upon himself to lead this clan into a war!”
“I’ll take him,” Nictan replied. “I’ll show him what’s to be done. I’ll-“
“Shut up, Nictan,” Venturi snapped.
“No. I’m not letting him get exiled. He’s just a kid. Have a heart, Venturi!”
“I agree with Venturi,” Equinox butted in, causing Venturi to throw a smug little smirk in his direction, stirring his eternal patience to become limited. “The kid did almost lead us into a war.”
“Please,” the snow-white Wildclaw in question pleaded, “I didn’t mean to. I’m... I’m sorry...”
“I’m sorry Serkan,” Equinox replied with a look of not-entirely-fake sadness. “We’re going to have to exile you.”
“You can’t, Equinox,” Nictan cried, his heart pounding. “Please, let me take him in. I’ll show him how things should be done.”
“That’s not a punishment. It’s a lesson. He needs to lose something.”
“Then take my freedom!” Serkan begged. “Take it all! Just let me stay.”
Ticks felt like bells as the older two – he hadn’t known Venturi had been older than him when he’d seen him as a Nocturne – whispered in a very secretive tone, occasionally gesturing towards Nictan and Serkan. The look on the young Wildclaw’s face made the golden dragon’s heart break in sorrow and sympathy for the guy. He’d been leading from a very young age; he’d barely been an adult when he started. The effort had been very visible, and still was on the youngling’s face. His eyes were tired with dark rings around his eyes that stood out against the snowy whiteness of his skin, and he looked feeble from lack of nutrition and the stress of leading so many at so young. Nictan could see, even if no one could look past the hatred in their hearts, that the poor guy never meant to start an uprising and possible civil war in the lair.
“Nictan,” Equinox called out, “come over here.”
The Wildclaw breathed a heaving sigh and curled his paws around each other in a show of anxiety as he approached. He knew he was the youngest of the pair, but he also knew he shouldn’t feel pressured by them. Yet Venturi was giving him a stare that would make even the Plaguebringer uncomfortable whilst Equinox, the oldest of the trio, was looking calm and collected as Nictan neared. The pressure in the air was getting heavier by the moment as he expected the worst to come from the Twilight-blue dragon’s mouth.
“We’ve decided,” Equinox said as calmly as can be, “that you can take the kid in. But he isn’t allowed to leave the house without a supervisor. Whether that is yourself or another member, I don’t mind. I know you can look after him and teach him what’s right.”
Pride and joy fluttered in Nictan’s stomach, and he could see the same with a single glance at the dragon in question.
“Thank you, Equinox.”
---
Enjoy. :)
@Ouji Your third and final piece is completed! Thank you for asking me to write these, they were so much fun! And @Peyp yours will be written soon! I hope you enjoy them once they're finished.
---
Made by @/Ozie. (27/1/18)
He woke up to the sound of baby dragons chirping for their food and adults fussing over their own children. The smell of fresh meat, bugs and seafood filled his nose, making his stomach react with a growl that sounded a lot like, “Feed me or you’ll suffer”. The little dragon turned his gaze skyward, towards the canopy of jade-green trees above where the choir of birds sang and the branches played their ever-wooden instruments in the Windsinger’s chiming, soft gale that blew through the cracks in the wall of birch and oak. Leaves of all shapes and sizes brushed against his skin gently as he shifted to see his adoptive mother looking down on him.
His mother was a Wildclaw; she had eyes greener than an emerald and her scales looked smooth to the touch. Her wings were a lovely, darkened shade of brown, her body a darkened grey, and she had runes symbolizing her alliance all along her neck and arms, all the way down to her paws. In one of her delicate paws was a slab of deer meat from the surrounding woods, and just staring at it made the youngling’s mouth water.
“Morning, sunshine,” she cooed, handing him the slab of raw meat. It barely touched the ground before it was gone again, on its way to being dissolved into energy. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, mama!” he exclaimed, shrugging off a blanket of leaves and standing on wobbly legs to face his adoptive parent.
“That’s good,” she replied, placing a soft paw on the Nocturne’s cheek and stroking away a stray bit of meat.
“Momma, do I have a name yet? I really want a name!”
“I know you do, that’s what I was going to talk to you about.” Her lips pulled into a soft, heart-warming smile that melted the little dragon’s heart. “I was thinking you could be called Sulphur, or-“
“Nictan!” he cried happily, jumping up and down.
His mother just laughed, brushed a stray leaf in which he had kicked up from his jumping off of his nose. “Nictan it is, then,” was her reply.
The Nocturne smiled up at his mother, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
What if I was like her?
---
“Tui, get down from there! It’s not safe!”
Nictan panted in spite of resting for the past few ticks, watching his son climb up the trees surrounding them with his mate, Villia. The pair had talked about what would be best for their son - military training, to be exact. The young Nocturne was always admiring his brothers and sisters for their work in the army, and he always said he wanted to be like them despite how much his dear father told him it was dangerous.
“But I want to!” he’d always cry, in spite of his father’s attempts to make him stay away.
“But Tui-“
“No!” he’d then scream, charging past him to the barracks that lay just beyond their walls. He’d go there a few times a week, training with an old softie called Equinox, a Necromancer to the local land of the Shadowbinder. Despite how the Shadowbinder and the Gladekeeper hated each other – sibling rivalry – they let the dragons pass through their lands with ease and little discomfort.
“But dad, I’m almost at the top!” he cried from his perch on the branches. “Please let me get to the top.”
“Tui, please,” Villia cut in, “We both want you to come down. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“But I want to prove to the old man that I’m capable of fighting!” he growled.
That hit Nictan like a blow to the stomach. Old man, he thought. Am I really that old?
“Tui, get down! Now!”
Nictan heard his son groan a loathsome curse and flapped down towards the ground, glaring at his father on the way. Shame overcame Nictan’s heart as his son grew nearer to the ground. He’d already had to send away three children of his to the war between the Chimera and other Beastclans; he didn’t want to lose another. His mate was staring their son down as he landed, and he could see that it caused Tui discomfort.
“Villia,” he said softly, placing a paw on her tense shoulder. “It’s alright.”
“No, Nictan, it isn’t,” was all she replied with as she stalked off to find the younger of their two children, Hakaku.
Nictan only sighed, sitting himself down on a bench made out of silken moss and woven tree branches. He found himself staring in the direction of the Shadow realm, wondering how life was there; wondering if it’d be any different to the life in the Gladekeeper’s realm. He could see a monument of the Shadowbinder from where he sat, and he felt jealousy overtake him for those who stayed with her. As soon as he realised this feeling, he shook his head violent. He had a family to worry about.
“Dad?” Tui said, concern lacing his words as he looked at his father, and his father at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, son,” he replied sadly, glancing back at the shadowed monument and chuckling lightly. Ironic, isn’t it, he thought to himself. Ironic that the monument is permanently shadowed by the deeds the Shadowbinder has done for her land.
“No you’re not, dad,” his son said matter-of-factly. “You want to go live in the Shadow realm, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tui.”
“Yes it does, dad. It matters a lot. You don’t like it here. I can see that with my own eyes.” Tui sighed, staring at his own paws before continuing on. “Please, dad, don’t trouble yourself with us. Just go.”
“Son-“
“No. Go. I’ll look after mother. Just go.”
Nictan felt unshed tears come to his eyes and looked away from his child. His vision blurred all the shades of greens and pale beiges of the ground and trees around them blending into one mucky brown formation. “I don’t want to leave you, Tui, nor your mother or Hakaku. He’s so young and growing up without a father...”
“Dad,” Tui said gently. “I’ll look after him. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I-“
“Dad, please! Every time I’ve seen you ever since I hatched, you’ve gazed longingly towards the Shadow realm,” he cried, his eyes forming clear rivers down to his chin for the tears. “Just go!”
Nictan felt taken aback as he looked towards his deep-blue Nocturne child. He felt compelled to stay, but Tui was right. He wasn’t happy here. He longed to go to the Shadow realm, longed to see the world for what it really was. Not what it has been told to be.
“Do you promise you’ll stay in touch?” Nictan said with a voice that’s quiet and broken.
“Of course, dad,” Tui replied, charging towards his father and throwing his arms around him in what-could-be a final embrace. “I’ll always stay in touch.”
The two stayed like that for a good few ticks, not bearing to let the other go, but as soon as the father heard his mate’s voice snipe its way through the woods, he knew he had to say goodbye. It was tearful, he could say that much, to say goodbye to his only family, but he needed to go.
“I’m sorry,” he told them repeatedly, even after they could no longer hear him.
He’d miss them terribly.
---
“No!” Nictan cried, silencing the court room around him.
If you could call it that, anyway.
Flags of all colours waved in the wind in greeting to all of the court members, especially the leading dragons; Equinox, Venturi and himself. Windows littered the room at discarded and awkward angles, letting in slithers of golden-grey sunlight, casting off of the white tiles on the walls and floors. Cushions, chairs and tables of all shapes, colours and sizes sat around the edges of the room, allowing people to observe the event unfurling in front of their very eyes.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Venturi growled, his eyes piercing into Nictan’s heart and soul. “This guy took it upon himself to lead this clan into a war!”
“I’ll take him,” Nictan replied. “I’ll show him what’s to be done. I’ll-“
“Shut up, Nictan,” Venturi snapped.
“No. I’m not letting him get exiled. He’s just a kid. Have a heart, Venturi!”
“I agree with Venturi,” Equinox butted in, causing Venturi to throw a smug little smirk in his direction, stirring his eternal patience to become limited. “The kid did almost lead us into a war.”
“Please,” the snow-white Wildclaw in question pleaded, “I didn’t mean to. I’m... I’m sorry...”
“I’m sorry Serkan,” Equinox replied with a look of not-entirely-fake sadness. “We’re going to have to exile you.”
“You can’t, Equinox,” Nictan cried, his heart pounding. “Please, let me take him in. I’ll show him how things should be done.”
“That’s not a punishment. It’s a lesson. He needs to lose something.”
“Then take my freedom!” Serkan begged. “Take it all! Just let me stay.”
Ticks felt like bells as the older two – he hadn’t known Venturi had been older than him when he’d seen him as a Nocturne – whispered in a very secretive tone, occasionally gesturing towards Nictan and Serkan. The look on the young Wildclaw’s face made the golden dragon’s heart break in sorrow and sympathy for the guy. He’d been leading from a very young age; he’d barely been an adult when he started. The effort had been very visible, and still was on the youngling’s face. His eyes were tired with dark rings around his eyes that stood out against the snowy whiteness of his skin, and he looked feeble from lack of nutrition and the stress of leading so many at so young. Nictan could see, even if no one could look past the hatred in their hearts, that the poor guy never meant to start an uprising and possible civil war in the lair.
“Nictan,” Equinox called out, “come over here.”
The Wildclaw breathed a heaving sigh and curled his paws around each other in a show of anxiety as he approached. He knew he was the youngest of the pair, but he also knew he shouldn’t feel pressured by them. Yet Venturi was giving him a stare that would make even the Plaguebringer uncomfortable whilst Equinox, the oldest of the trio, was looking calm and collected as Nictan neared. The pressure in the air was getting heavier by the moment as he expected the worst to come from the Twilight-blue dragon’s mouth.
“We’ve decided,” Equinox said as calmly as can be, “that you can take the kid in. But he isn’t allowed to leave the house without a supervisor. Whether that is yourself or another member, I don’t mind. I know you can look after him and teach him what’s right.”
Pride and joy fluttered in Nictan’s stomach, and he could see the same with a single glance at the dragon in question.
“Thank you, Equinox.”
---
Enjoy. :)
---
Made by @/Ozie. (27/1/18)
He woke up to the sound of baby dragons chirping for their food and adults fussing over their own children. The smell of fresh meat, bugs and seafood filled his nose, making his stomach react with a growl that sounded a lot like, “Feed me or you’ll suffer”. The little dragon turned his gaze skyward, towards the canopy of jade-green trees above where the choir of birds sang and the branches played their ever-wooden instruments in the Windsinger’s chiming, soft gale that blew through the cracks in the wall of birch and oak. Leaves of all shapes and sizes brushed against his skin gently as he shifted to see his adoptive mother looking down on him.
His mother was a Wildclaw; she had eyes greener than an emerald and her scales looked smooth to the touch. Her wings were a lovely, darkened shade of brown, her body a darkened grey, and she had runes symbolizing her alliance all along her neck and arms, all the way down to her paws. In one of her delicate paws was a slab of deer meat from the surrounding woods, and just staring at it made the youngling’s mouth water.
“Morning, sunshine,” she cooed, handing him the slab of raw meat. It barely touched the ground before it was gone again, on its way to being dissolved into energy. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, mama!” he exclaimed, shrugging off a blanket of leaves and standing on wobbly legs to face his adoptive parent.
“That’s good,” she replied, placing a soft paw on the Nocturne’s cheek and stroking away a stray bit of meat.
“Momma, do I have a name yet? I really want a name!”
“I know you do, that’s what I was going to talk to you about.” Her lips pulled into a soft, heart-warming smile that melted the little dragon’s heart. “I was thinking you could be called Sulphur, or-“
“Nictan!” he cried happily, jumping up and down.
His mother just laughed, brushed a stray leaf in which he had kicked up from his jumping off of his nose. “Nictan it is, then,” was her reply.
The Nocturne smiled up at his mother, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
What if I was like her?
---
“Tui, get down from there! It’s not safe!”
Nictan panted in spite of resting for the past few ticks, watching his son climb up the trees surrounding them with his mate, Villia. The pair had talked about what would be best for their son - military training, to be exact. The young Nocturne was always admiring his brothers and sisters for their work in the army, and he always said he wanted to be like them despite how much his dear father told him it was dangerous.
“But I want to!” he’d always cry, in spite of his father’s attempts to make him stay away.
“But Tui-“
“No!” he’d then scream, charging past him to the barracks that lay just beyond their walls. He’d go there a few times a week, training with an old softie called Equinox, a Necromancer to the local land of the Shadowbinder. Despite how the Shadowbinder and the Gladekeeper hated each other – sibling rivalry – they let the dragons pass through their lands with ease and little discomfort.
“But dad, I’m almost at the top!” he cried from his perch on the branches. “Please let me get to the top.”
“Tui, please,” Villia cut in, “We both want you to come down. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“But I want to prove to the old man that I’m capable of fighting!” he growled.
That hit Nictan like a blow to the stomach. Old man, he thought. Am I really that old?
“Tui, get down! Now!”
Nictan heard his son groan a loathsome curse and flapped down towards the ground, glaring at his father on the way. Shame overcame Nictan’s heart as his son grew nearer to the ground. He’d already had to send away three children of his to the war between the Chimera and other Beastclans; he didn’t want to lose another. His mate was staring their son down as he landed, and he could see that it caused Tui discomfort.
“Villia,” he said softly, placing a paw on her tense shoulder. “It’s alright.”
“No, Nictan, it isn’t,” was all she replied with as she stalked off to find the younger of their two children, Hakaku.
Nictan only sighed, sitting himself down on a bench made out of silken moss and woven tree branches. He found himself staring in the direction of the Shadow realm, wondering how life was there; wondering if it’d be any different to the life in the Gladekeeper’s realm. He could see a monument of the Shadowbinder from where he sat, and he felt jealousy overtake him for those who stayed with her. As soon as he realised this feeling, he shook his head violent. He had a family to worry about.
“Dad?” Tui said, concern lacing his words as he looked at his father, and his father at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, son,” he replied sadly, glancing back at the shadowed monument and chuckling lightly. Ironic, isn’t it, he thought to himself. Ironic that the monument is permanently shadowed by the deeds the Shadowbinder has done for her land.
“No you’re not, dad,” his son said matter-of-factly. “You want to go live in the Shadow realm, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Tui.”
“Yes it does, dad. It matters a lot. You don’t like it here. I can see that with my own eyes.” Tui sighed, staring at his own paws before continuing on. “Please, dad, don’t trouble yourself with us. Just go.”
“Son-“
“No. Go. I’ll look after mother. Just go.”
Nictan felt unshed tears come to his eyes and looked away from his child. His vision blurred all the shades of greens and pale beiges of the ground and trees around them blending into one mucky brown formation. “I don’t want to leave you, Tui, nor your mother or Hakaku. He’s so young and growing up without a father...”
“Dad,” Tui said gently. “I’ll look after him. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I-“
“Dad, please! Every time I’ve seen you ever since I hatched, you’ve gazed longingly towards the Shadow realm,” he cried, his eyes forming clear rivers down to his chin for the tears. “Just go!”
Nictan felt taken aback as he looked towards his deep-blue Nocturne child. He felt compelled to stay, but Tui was right. He wasn’t happy here. He longed to go to the Shadow realm, longed to see the world for what it really was. Not what it has been told to be.
“Do you promise you’ll stay in touch?” Nictan said with a voice that’s quiet and broken.
“Of course, dad,” Tui replied, charging towards his father and throwing his arms around him in what-could-be a final embrace. “I’ll always stay in touch.”
The two stayed like that for a good few ticks, not bearing to let the other go, but as soon as the father heard his mate’s voice snipe its way through the woods, he knew he had to say goodbye. It was tearful, he could say that much, to say goodbye to his only family, but he needed to go.
“I’m sorry,” he told them repeatedly, even after they could no longer hear him.
He’d miss them terribly.
---
“No!” Nictan cried, silencing the court room around him.
If you could call it that, anyway.
Flags of all colours waved in the wind in greeting to all of the court members, especially the leading dragons; Equinox, Venturi and himself. Windows littered the room at discarded and awkward angles, letting in slithers of golden-grey sunlight, casting off of the white tiles on the walls and floors. Cushions, chairs and tables of all shapes, colours and sizes sat around the edges of the room, allowing people to observe the event unfurling in front of their very eyes.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Venturi growled, his eyes piercing into Nictan’s heart and soul. “This guy took it upon himself to lead this clan into a war!”
“I’ll take him,” Nictan replied. “I’ll show him what’s to be done. I’ll-“
“Shut up, Nictan,” Venturi snapped.
“No. I’m not letting him get exiled. He’s just a kid. Have a heart, Venturi!”
“I agree with Venturi,” Equinox butted in, causing Venturi to throw a smug little smirk in his direction, stirring his eternal patience to become limited. “The kid did almost lead us into a war.”
“Please,” the snow-white Wildclaw in question pleaded, “I didn’t mean to. I’m... I’m sorry...”
“I’m sorry Serkan,” Equinox replied with a look of not-entirely-fake sadness. “We’re going to have to exile you.”
“You can’t, Equinox,” Nictan cried, his heart pounding. “Please, let me take him in. I’ll show him how things should be done.”
“That’s not a punishment. It’s a lesson. He needs to lose something.”
“Then take my freedom!” Serkan begged. “Take it all! Just let me stay.”
Ticks felt like bells as the older two – he hadn’t known Venturi had been older than him when he’d seen him as a Nocturne – whispered in a very secretive tone, occasionally gesturing towards Nictan and Serkan. The look on the young Wildclaw’s face made the golden dragon’s heart break in sorrow and sympathy for the guy. He’d been leading from a very young age; he’d barely been an adult when he started. The effort had been very visible, and still was on the youngling’s face. His eyes were tired with dark rings around his eyes that stood out against the snowy whiteness of his skin, and he looked feeble from lack of nutrition and the stress of leading so many at so young. Nictan could see, even if no one could look past the hatred in their hearts, that the poor guy never meant to start an uprising and possible civil war in the lair.
“Nictan,” Equinox called out, “come over here.”
The Wildclaw breathed a heaving sigh and curled his paws around each other in a show of anxiety as he approached. He knew he was the youngest of the pair, but he also knew he shouldn’t feel pressured by them. Yet Venturi was giving him a stare that would make even the Plaguebringer uncomfortable whilst Equinox, the oldest of the trio, was looking calm and collected as Nictan neared. The pressure in the air was getting heavier by the moment as he expected the worst to come from the Twilight-blue dragon’s mouth.
“We’ve decided,” Equinox said as calmly as can be, “that you can take the kid in. But he isn’t allowed to leave the house without a supervisor. Whether that is yourself or another member, I don’t mind. I know you can look after him and teach him what’s right.”
Pride and joy fluttered in Nictan’s stomach, and he could see the same with a single glance at the dragon in question.
“Thank you, Equinox.”
---
Enjoy. :)
@Ozie sORRY JUST SAW THE PINGS NOW
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
i really enjoyed reading through these ;; v ;;
i love how you intertwined their stories and povs of events
Nictan is probably my favorite with the sadness he carries and his interaction with his children ;; v ;;
i actually friends with the owner of the Nature clan he's from so I'll def send this to her to read too <3
plus the floating end/Resurrection bit at oth Equinox/Venturis stories are a very nice upbeat note to end on
all in all im super satisfied with these ! thank you s o so much <3
please do ping me when you're finished with the other orders HAHA i'd love to order again once you're done !
plus i def think your writing is worth more
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
i really enjoyed reading through these ;; v ;;
i love how you intertwined their stories and povs of events
Nictan is probably my favorite with the sadness he carries and his interaction with his children ;; v ;;
i actually friends with the owner of the Nature clan he's from so I'll def send this to her to read too <3
plus the floating end/Resurrection bit at oth Equinox/Venturis stories are a very nice upbeat note to end on
all in all im super satisfied with these ! thank you s o so much <3
please do ping me when you're finished with the other orders HAHA i'd love to order again once you're done !
@Ozie sORRY JUST SAW THE PINGS NOW
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
i really enjoyed reading through these ;; v ;;
i love how you intertwined their stories and povs of events
Nictan is probably my favorite with the sadness he carries and his interaction with his children ;; v ;;
i actually friends with the owner of the Nature clan he's from so I'll def send this to her to read too <3
plus the floating end/Resurrection bit at oth Equinox/Venturis stories are a very nice upbeat note to end on
all in all im super satisfied with these ! thank you s o so much <3
please do ping me when you're finished with the other orders HAHA i'd love to order again once you're done !
plus i def think your writing is worth more
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
i really enjoyed reading through these ;; v ;;
i love how you intertwined their stories and povs of events
Nictan is probably my favorite with the sadness he carries and his interaction with his children ;; v ;;
i actually friends with the owner of the Nature clan he's from so I'll def send this to her to read too <3
plus the floating end/Resurrection bit at oth Equinox/Venturis stories are a very nice upbeat note to end on
all in all im super satisfied with these ! thank you s o so much <3
please do ping me when you're finished with the other orders HAHA i'd love to order again once you're done !