Marcius' numbness towards the world grew with him, through his adolescence and into his adulthood. It began like a thick wall, separating him from those things he hated. He withdrew himself from dragon contact, focusing all his energy on becoming perfection. (His OCD about staying sparkling and flawless lead to physical harm when he cleaned his scales raw.)
Marcius hadn't realized that his numbing veil was growing thin with each day. It spread and stretched like a rubberband, always something testing its limits. He forgot after a while what it was like to feel anything. Cold towards other dragons, no matter who they were, be only cared about his parents opinions, which were favorable.
Until they approached him one night. He'd finished with his nightly routines, preening over his shining skin and soft, shimmery wing scales. They asked to talk with him, quiet, calm, patiently. But the question they had for him left him reeling.
Have you thought about what you want to do with your life, Marcius?
His thin veil of numbness snapped that night. All of the hatred rushed into him, filling the wound of those words in his ego. Had he not been doing everything they wanted of him? Did they think he was worthless as a child? Marcius threw the biggest fit, snapping with all the might of an entitled child king might.
Nothing he had done in his life meant anything to them, they did not appreciate anything he'd strived for! At least, that was what he'd felt, and nothing was going to change his one-track mind. Spitting out all his hatred into his parents face was the last thing he did before he flew the coop. Leaving in a fume of rage and irrational thoughts, Marcius vowed that he would find ultimate perfection with the Lightweaver.
His flight towards the Beacon of the Radiant Eye was arduous, to say the least. His weak wings were not meant to flying in the first place, and the winds battered him around like no more than a dragon shaped piece of parchment. He was even blown way off course by a rogue jet stream, putting days away from his destination. But he was a stubborn dragon, if he was anything, and he travelled on.
Finding his way back to the Light Flight after being blown off course towards the oceans had him needing a rest. He remembered seeing civilization somewhere near the coast, but he couldn't remember how far he'd been taken. It was like looking for a needle, metaphorically. The trees masked most of the land this far North, and he'd barely gotten a glimpse of the clan while fighting the currents of air. But it turned out he wouldn't need to search long.
Out of nowhere, a spry little fae collided with him from below. He spun, and they both began to careen towards land before righting themselves, fluttering together in a shocked silence. Marcius was ready to vent his stress out on this dragon, but with a second look he was stunned into silence.
Aileta was a fae of many words, many emotions, and a charming personality that he could probably survive on as sustenance. She apologized profusely for the littlest things, like running into him, and then at his questions as to why, she launched into an elaborate tale that she made sound so much more enthusing than it really was. He loved the way she talked right away. When she finally got to mentioning anything about the Light Flight or their deity, she would babble on and on.
For the life on him he couldn't stop looking at her noticeably deep red eyes. They stood out against her bright and pure yellows, whites and gentle blues. She caught him, though, and smiled knowingly, as if she could read his thoughts. And explained that, yes, she was born a plague dragon. Feeling like an outcast hadn't stopped her from looking towards the light and finding her perfect life in the Sunbeam ruins. She imperfections hardly detracted from her noble endeavours.
He joined her in the place he'd seen along the coast, the Runelight Hallow. The Hallow was full of dragons, large and small in many more ways than one. And he found many like-minded dragons there, striving for perfection, knowledge and truth. But Aileta was his omnipotent guide, and long before he really knew it, he felt like he'd been touched by perfection itself.