Andromeda
(#12065152)
Level 25 Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
24.83 m
Wingspan
22.44 m
Weight
9172.72 kg
Genetics
Navy
Crystal
Crystal
Silver
Facet
Facet
Royal
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
16
DEF
5
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
5
MND
5
Biography
made by @Lalli
Andromeda
Nickname: Andie ♦ auction purchase
Down to Earth
(written by Disillusionist)
Main Theme: "Fearless" |
The Windswept Plateau is famous for its kites and playful architecture, and its resident deity is known as a carefree, fun-loving god. There are many in other flights who scoff at this, thinking that Wind dragons would rather tinker and play than experience the rush of combat, the glory of battling against the Shade.
They are wrong. They have never felt the hammering force of a tropical gale, never seen it lift behemoth dragons and rip apart ancient trees. The wind is just as capable of viciousness and fury as all the other elements are. Most of the time, it just chooses not to be.
And so it is with the dragons of the Wind flight. Most visitors can't navigate the treacherous currents of the air, so they stay on the ground. They look up at the creaking walkways, at bright kites hovering against a sea of clouds, and they chuckle indulgently. All they see is gaiety. Above the clouds, it's a somewhat different matter.
Above the clouds, the greatest warriors of the Wind flight build floating fortresses. Humbler ones spun of wood and paper, or ponderous juggernauts buoyed by mighty spells. This collection of castles in the air is a new world all on its own, a jealously-guarded secret to which only few are privy. And it was in one of these that Andromeda resided.
She was born into one of the larger fortresses. It was a huge stone crescent, its building blocks coming apart but never floating far away from the main mass. They were all tethered together by magic. As a child, Andromeda had heard the story of how the fortress had been created. She shivered at the tale of the Arcane mages who had been summoned from their homes, paid well from their services -- and then barred from leaving the fortress once it had been completed. "They knew too many secrets!" hissed Mathilde. She was Andromeda's nurse, a Guardian matron who dealt out humor and discipline in equal measure. Andromeda and her siblings listened, wide-eyed, as the Guardian described how the Arcane mages were imprisoned in the lowest cell of the fortress. There, they lived out the rest of their lives in comfort, but also in incredible loneliness, for they had built the cell to be impermeable, even to their own magic.
"But that was long ago," Andromeda protested softly. She blinked her huge green eyes at the Guardian. "Did they ever get out?"
"Who knows?" Mathilde leaned back, signifying that the story was at its end. She noticed Andromeda's disappointed pout and winked at her. "But then, that's what the whole world is, you know. A giant bundle of secrets, waiting to be freed."
Andromeda smiled back. Not long after that, she fell asleep. Perhaps it was because the words had been said so close to her bedtime -- they lodged in her brain. Over the next few years, as she was slowly granted full run of the fortress, they drifted up in her mind again and again: "A giant bundle of secrets, waiting to be freed...." She would look out the windows at the sea of clouds below. No matter how much the vapors swirled, they never broke apart. She had entertained the half-baked notion that there was an ocean underneath, but now she was not so sure. In time, she and her fellows learned of the world below, of other dragons who crawled upon the ground. But they still liked to pretend that they were angels and fairies in their kingdom above the clouds.
They enjoyed it while it lasted. For as part of a warrior clan, they were expected to train in combat, even from a young age. It wasn't long before their toys were taken away, and weapons and manuscripts shoved into their hands. The hatchlings were schooled in the ways of battle. Andromeda received more intensive training, for she was the eldest among her siblings. And it soon became apparent that she was more talented than they were.
She became known as a fierce warrior who never backed down from any challenge or foe, no matter how dangerous or grotesque. In her early years as an officer, the gatherers of the clan ran afoul of a flock of Hippogriffs. Andromeda and her squadron were called out to defend them. Some of the Hippogriffs flung blasts of air that weakened the dragons, but a few were dangerous wielders of Lightning magic. Andromeda wove between the lightning bolts, her long body twisting and turning. She narrowly avoided a bolt that would have taken out her eye and then closed one paw around the Hippogriff that'd flung it at her. "Checkmate!" she cried. Her fangs flashed in a brilliant smile.
The other dragons erupted into a rousing cheer. The Hippogriffs didn't agree. With a chorus of dismayed shrieks, they fluttered away. The remaining Hippogriff struggled in Andromeda's grasp. It clawed at her, trying to escape, and let out a piteous scream.
"That must've been their leader," one of Andromeda's subordinates muttered. He hovered next to the Hippogriff and aimed a bright green eye at it. "They all flew off when it got caught. Shall we put it down, ma'am?"
Andromeda looked at the Hippogriff in her paw. It had stopped struggling, and though it glared back fiercely, she could feel its heart fluttering against her fingers. Her own heart, large and generous, softened towards it.
"Brave little thing," she cooed, stroking its head. It dug its beak into her fingers, trying to chew through the scales.
"Should we put it down, ma'am? Uh...ma'am?" The captain cringed away from the Hippogriff.
Andromeda tossed her sparkling mane. "Goodness, no! It's such a brave and beautiful soul; it's just like me! I can't think of a better companion." She looked fondly at the Hippogriff, which was continuing to worry away at her fingers. The captain shuddered and left them to get to know each other better.
Andromeda took the Hippogriff back to the fortress. It was a proud and haughty creature, and it took ages for it to get used to her. But it helped that she could shrug off most forms of magic by then. She would just laugh, shake away the singed strands of her mane, and offer more food to the Hippogriff. In time her cheerfulness and generosity won the lofty creature over, and it bonded closely to her -- though it never really got rid of that habit of chomping on her fingers.
The other clan warriors looked upon Andromeda with admiration, for Hippogriffs were notoriously difficult to capture, let alone tame. They found plenty more to admire about her as the years passed. When the fortress came under attack from a massive Featherback Boar, it was Andromeda who slew the beast. The castle shook as the dead monster thudded down into the courtyard. Andromeda emerged from the battle with battered scales and a fully intact smile. The clan halls resounded with praises for her, and she was awarded the Featherback pelt as a trophy.
The Imperial lady's future was bright. When the clan leader passed away one morning, there weren't many doubts as to who would succeed him. By that time, Andromeda had made a name for herself as an able warrior and cunning tactician. She had by then had many consorts and children and was loved by many other dragons -- and she, with her magnanimous spirit, loved them in return. When she was elevated to the post of chieftain, she became like a mother to the clan, guiding and nurturing them for many long years. It was a time of prosperity for them, and the Crescent Castle shone like a beacon in the cloudy sea. For many years, all was well.
Furthermore, she had by then been the chieftain for many years -- some dragons thought it was too many. Other young and talented warriors wanted the seat of leadership for themselves. The only way they could get it was if the current leader died or abdicated -- and Andromeda showed no sign of doing either. So they hatched a plan to hurry her along....
A group of dragons arrived at the clan one day. They posed as traders, and they invited Andromeda to sample some of their finest goods. One of the ladies uncorked a bottle of sweet-smelling perfume. She held it beneath the chiefess' nose. Andromeda, entirely trusting, inhaled deeply. The world blurred at the edges, and the young trader patted her cheek gently as she slipped into slumber.
When Andromeda awoke, she found herself in a dark stone cell. She quickly assessed her location. Her anger turned to dismay and then something very close to heartbreak. She hadn't been spirited away. They hadn't needed to do that. The detractors of her clan had simply taken over and imprisoned her in the dungeon of her very own castle.
But Andromeda was not alone in the dungeon. She had many loyal cohorts, and her dear familiar had been thrown into the cell with her. She was deeply thankful her lovers and relatives were not around to see her situation. Her children had grown up to be fine warriors and gone to serve deities or other clans. Many of her consorts had done the same, or else she had outlived them all. Those who remained with her now were loyal servants and guardsmen. They could speak to each other, for their cells were not far apart, and from the very beginning, they plotted their escape.
They did not have to wait long for an opportunity. Andromeda's enemies and the opposing clan had a shaky alliance at best, and after the victory celebrations, the two would-be allies began squabbling over the terms they'd originally agreed to. As the infighting continued, their disillusioned underlings crept down into the dungeons. They spoke to the prisoners, hoping to curry favor with them. Andromeda lowered her eyelids and beguiled them. Many of her old officers had proven themselves worthless, she claimed. They would have to be replaced. She lied to the underlings through her flashing smile. And they believed her.
The doors were opened, and Andromeda and her comrades rushed out to freedom. But their goal was not to recapture the citadel. It was to escape it.
"We can no longer call this place home," Andromeda had told them earlier, shortly after they'd started planning their escape. "If we had been attacked by outsiders, it would have been entirely different -- but we have been undone by our own subordinates, our own kin!
"Even if we recapture this castle from them, we'll be doomed to spend our lives living in fear of other clans -- and those whom we call 'friends' or 'family'. That is not a life for any of us. Better, far better, that we go out into the world and offer our skills to clans who would treat us better."
Many of her soldiers complained against this. They were proud warriors of this castle, serving their own clan! But they quieted as Andromeda stamped her foot and the dungeon trembled.
She reminded them, her voice uncharacteristically steely, "We do not serve just the clan. We do not even serve only the Windsinger. We are dragons, all united against the Shade. And we will not be able to do that if we cower in our castle, fearful of would-be friends or kin.
"Remember that we were born and trained to fight the Shade, not to gain personal glory. We have had our time here -- and a good, long run it's been! Let us continue our fight elsewhere." She grinned like the rising sun. "Let the blades of the Crescent Castle spread over the world!"
And so it was that the honorable fighters of Crescent Castle left the fortress for good. They blew a hole in the ramparts and flew out -- straight into the teeth of a howling gale. When they realized their enemies were still in hot pursuit, their group broke apart. One by one, the warriors soared off into the roaring storm, with no time for farewells or well-wishes.
Andromeda flew blindly ahead. She clutched her familiar close to her chest, and the Hippogriff shuddered as it heard the thunder of her beating heart. Although the Imperial chief was a strong flier, she had been confined to a tight cell for many days, and her limbs ached. The drug she'd inhaled hadn't helped her senses. Everything was chaotic and confusing: sounds too loud and slow, flashes of lightning too bright.
It was a bolt of lightning that felled her, slicing through one wing. She screamed as, for the first time in ages, she felt pure pain. Her wings flapped feebly; her Hippogriff wormed out of her grasp and tugged at one finger, urging her to rise. Its beak sliced deep into her scales. Finally, it drew blood.
Andromeda's eyes opened. The Hippogriff screamed at her again. It banked, guiding her through a break in the clouds. Dazed and in pain, the Imperial followed.
She tumbled through the sky, a bolt of blue and silver skidding across wet stone. There was another flash, brighter than any sun, and then she knew no more.
It was another female Imperial. Her scales were pale gold, her mane and whiskers glittering. She looked at Andromeda with milky yellow eyes.
"You took quite a fall, young lady," she commented. Andromeda couldn't help snorting at the name. No one had called her "young lady" in a long time, let alone with such a patronizing tone.
Her eyes roved over their rescuer. The pale Imperial certainly looked older than she did. Despite the milky eyes, it seemed she could still see -- somewhat. She wore a patched cloak that might've been light brown or yellow once; it was hard to tell. A staff was slung at her side.
"A healer," Andromeda thought, "maybe a wandering one." She had heard tales of such dragons before. They roamed the length and breadth of the continent, offering their services -- for a price.
"Hate to say this," Andromeda grumbled, "but I haven't got any money on me."
"That's none of my concern. At the moment, I would rather you recovered and then limped off my territory."
The chieftain couldn't help but wince. She instinctively looked up at the clouds. Everything was overcast once more, with a faint glow of sunlight. There was no sign of pursuit.
Still, she warned her rescuer, "I'd better tell you that I'm probably being followed."
The old Imperial snorted contemptuously. "Let them come," she growled. Her eyes glowed as she turned away. Andromeda actually shrank back; she hadn't met many warriors who could pose a threat to her, but right now, even this old dragon was a possible danger. The chieftain was weak and badly injured, with no possessions to her name.
"And no more home. No more friends." Despite her little speech in the dungeon, that thought hurt very much. Many of those who'd betrayed her had been trusted subordinates. And those who'd remained loyal to her -- where had they gone? Andromeda held out hope that they had escaped and gone on to better lives. It was no use marshalling forces with which to take back Crescent Castle. She could do so -- but then, to what end? As she had told her comrades, doing so would only create more conflict in a world that didn't need any more. They would be able to do more good if they left it alone.
It took Andromeda some time to get used to this, and to having to stay still. The wandering healer was a cranky old lady who wasn't above smacking her on the snout when she started getting too twitchy. Andromeda wasn't really offended by this. The old lady reminded her of her nursemaid, Mathilde. Mathilde had gone on to the Windsinger many years ago, shortly after Andromeda had reached adulthood. The Guardian matron had died surrounded by her many charges, a smile on her craggy face. Andromeda recalled how she had said there were better things, greater glories, than exaltation.
Perhaps it was because of that similarity that Andromeda found herself telling stories about her old life. The other Imperial, for all her crankiness, listened carefully. At the end of most stories, she offered no comment except a sympathetic mug of tea or broth. It was a far cry from the ale Andromeda was used to, but she always drank heartily. Her Hippogriff, too, was very calm around the old lady, and Andromeda trusted her familiar as a good judge of character.
When the chieftain was healed, the old Imperial prepared to turn her loose. Andromeda was raring to go. The healer looked curiously at her and asked, "Would you return to your kingdom and try to reclaim your castle, Andromeda?"
Andromeda grinned brightly. "I'm no queen, and I don't need my castle to be grea..." Her voice trailed off as she realized: she didn't know the elder dragon's name. And she'd never told her name, either.
"Who are you?" she asked. Her green eyes narrowed. "I haven't said my name -- I mean, you haven't asked. How do you...?"
The old dragon's lips curled into a smile. "I know many things," she purred. Her voice was stronger now, more melodious, and as she cast away her cloak, Andromeda gasped and bowed her head. Her brow brushed the ground. It wasn't just that the old dragon -- and she was old, older by far than Andromeda had ever thought -- was as radiant as the dawn. It was also because she wasn't just a dragon....
Golden wings with glittering filaments, and eyes as bright as the sun. Her claws glittered like diamonds struck by light. She crooked a slender finger and pointed the way to the west.
"Travel to the Mirrorlight Promenade. There you will find a clan I favor. They are a small group, but they show much promise -- and you will guide them to greatness, noble chieftain."
Andromeda still couldn't believe it; all this time, she had been in the care of a deity! For the first time she could remember, words failed her. "Why...?"
"I have spoken with the Windsinger. Eleven flights and countless clans...The dragons of Sornieth are being divided. They forget the old ways, the old ties. But you have remembered them, and thus you have forsaken your castle. There is no glory in being a king or queen of many brave warriors. No glory in being the greatest among them. When you stand above all others, you also separate yourself from them. And so dragonkind becomes divided. And weak.
"But lend your skills, lend your knowledge, to all those who seek it. Join your claws against the Shade. It is when the scourge is banished...that we will all know true glory. The Windsinger believes that you have done your job well, and that it is time for you to move on. He sent you to aid my children."
"How?" Andromeda was still confused. "How will I know which clan...?"
The Lightweaver smiled again. "Your deity knows the way."
There was a crash of thunder. The goddess vanished. Andromeda looked up and saw a point of brilliant golden light. It streaked across the vault of the night and was gone.
And then she was being buffeted by invisible wings. The Windsinger had cast his net. He snatched up Andromeda -- she barely had time to scoop up her Hippogriff -- and flung her away to the west. Over green hills and tumbling white ruins -- the world flashed by below. Andromeda couldn't help but cry out in wonder; it was more colorful than the depths of the cloudy sea. "The world is a bundle of secrets...waiting to be freed! Just as we were!"
She remembered the Lightweaver tearing apart the night and realized: "We were not meant to go so high -- above all other dragons. The sky belongs to the gods...."
Many times, in the past few weeks, she had agonized over her decision to abandon the citadel. She had spoken so passionately in the dungeon about going out into the world -- and had regretted it many times. Now she knew: It had been the Windsinger's paean thrumming through her blood. Great warriors riding on a storm -- to freedom and further glory.
Andromeda opened her wings. The Lightweaver had done her work well, and her limbs no longer ached. Now the Windsinger himself held her aloft and guided her through the night. Down below her, many clans lit lanterns to ward away the darkness. Soon one of those lights would be hers. Soon she, too, would help another clan chase away the night.
It was almost midnight when Andromeda found her new home. The wind abated suddenly, and she glided on, buoyed by her own momentum. She came to a natural stop upon a rocky walkway, just outside a modest-sized lair.
Lights flickered on in the windows. Shapes moved inside. Andromeda set her Hippogriff down and brushed some fuzz off its head. She wondered if she should try making herself presentable, too.
Before she could do that, a gray Skydancer dropped out of the heavens. He folded his wings against his sides and eyed her curiously. "Good evening, lady. You have arrived at the lands of Clan Elysia. The hour is a bit late....May I have your name?"
Clan Elysia. It was like a puzzle piece slotting into place. "And I have found my new place as well." Andromeda put on her most dazzling smile.
"Good evening." She bowed low. She hadn't bowed to anyone in a long time. It felt incredibly freeing.
"I am Andromeda, a warrior from the Windswept Plateau...at your service."
Lore written and coded for Wystaria by Disillusionist.
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