Goldleaf
(#12409468)
Level 25 Imperial
Familiar
Shardback Slink
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 42/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.86 m
Wingspan
15.56 m
Weight
7298.5 kg
Genetics
Goldenrod
Crystal
Crystal
Goldenrod
Facet
Facet
Goldenrod
Spines
Spines
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
10
DEF
6
QCK
57
INT
8
VIT
9
MND
6
Biography
 Goldleaf Warrior / Guard 
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Loyal | Strict | Fierce
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Backstory
Trigger warnings: family abuse, mild self hate thoughts.
Credits:
Lore by Disillusionist
Original code by Kazukira
Decorations by mibella, poisonedpaper and me
Art by Macabrecabra
 
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Fitting in was never an option for Goldleaf. Born to a clan dominated by Pearlcatchers, from the moment of her hatching, she’d known only disapproval and disdain. The Pearlcatchers embodied the worst traits of their breed: they were haughty, proud, and held everyone else around them to exactingly high standards. Even as a hatchling, Goldleaf was not excused from their harsh treatment. In fact, as an Imperial, she was subjected to more of it. The Pearlcatchers were instinctively distrustful of her. They were solemn and stately, but she was so large, so rambunctious. So disruptive. They would have to rein her in constantly.... They didn’t understand—or care—that she was just a child. “Don’t just gawk at the Matron, you vacant-headed worm. Carry those boxes for her! Surely those clumsy arms of yours are good for something.” “You were ‘just playing’? ‘Just playing!’ Did I tell you to play games, you little fool? Are you deaf as well as daft?!” “You’ve eaten more than your fair share! No, you may not have more! You gluttonous thing, I’ll see that dinner is withheld from you as well!” There was a time, though it was painfully brief, that Goldleaf felt she had belonged. Surrounded by her parents and other hatchlings, she’d known playtime and laughter, had shared in the warmth of an accepting group. But all too quickly she had grown, faster than the adults would have liked, and even that safety net had been snatched away; her parents presumed dead after a violent snow storm. She remembered one particularly bad day: She’d been running with the other children on their morning exercises. All she’d done was stumble—but suddenly the other hatchlings were squealing and fluttering away like a pack of startled birds, and Goldleaf was left flailing in the dirt. “You could have caused so much damage, you idiot!” Goldleaf opened her eyes, saw the angry face of the Headmaster, and shut them again. She could not, however, shut out the angry words of the other elders— “Keep that menace away from our children! This was a mistake.” This—not the mishap, not the morning exercises, but Goldleaf herself. A mistake, that was all she was. Barely tolerated, undeserving of love... “Still, maybe all that brawn is good for something,” she heard the Headmaster grumble. The words were barely there, but they were there, and she clung to them like a castaway clinging to a raft. It was some shred of hope that she might be good for something after all, that she might find purpose—and be truly accepted—into her clan. She worked herself to the bone for them, enduring harsh words and harsher punishments. If the clan’s standards had been severe before, they became truly crushing now, for Goldleaf was being trained as a fighter. Charged with the defense of the clan and its honor from the threats of the Southern Icefield. And there were many: rogue magic, vicious monsters, and the ever-encroaching Beastclans. Goldleaf honed her magical and martial skills as she trained, and later fought, alongside other warriors of the clan. There were many battles, for the Pearlcatchers’ ice palaces stood out on the frozen wasteland. Beneath the auroras, the lair shone like a beacon, commanding the attention of all. Looking up at those shining towers, Goldleaf managed to feel some pride. And honor—she was now a valued protector of the clan! A protector? Certainly. But valued? It never felt that way. No matter how many lives she saved, or how well she distinguished herself in battle, there were never any kind words. Honor was all-important to the clan; the quest for praise was frivolous and self-indulgent. Any mistake she made—and it seemed she could never stop making them—was a blight upon the clan’s honor. She was a blight upon the clan’s honor.... There came a day when Goldleaf was made to leave. Banished for good, for some wrong she had committed. She no longer remembered which one it was, but truly, how could she? In this cold, unfeeling clan, her life had been an endless procession of mistakes. She could no longer tell them apart; all that mattered was that the clan had been keeping score, and she’d finally passed a threshold from which she couldn’t turn back. They stripped the clan’s insignia from her raiments and then banished her from the lair. Goldleaf stumbled through the snow, too numb to even spread her wings. By the time she thought to look back, she was already too far away, and the snow was falling so thickly that she couldn’t even see the glow from the palaces. She became aware that her legs were trembling beneath her, and she sank down in exhaustion. Her sword clanked heavily against her side. She wondered if she ought to throw it away. Her clan had left it with her, for to exile a dragon, even one as worthless as herself, would have been dishonorable. Goldleaf paused, looking at the blade through bleary eyes. “You never should have been here. You were a mistake. If not for the goodness of our hearts, we would have cast you out long ago! Count yourself lucky we endured your bumbling for this long.” “Go where you please; your doings from here on out are of no concern to the clan, nor do we wish to be associated with them. No longer will you besmirch our honor. No more will you shame us.” “You are no longer entitled to the protection of the clan, nor are you worthy of it! You have never been worthy. You were nothing but a clumsy worm we took pity on, and how wrong we were to do so! More trouble than you’re worth...Perish alone, for all we care. You deserve it. You’re a burden and should not inflict yourself upon another clan....” Deep in the frigid whiteness, Goldleaf lay alone. There was no sorrow, no pain—only the empty numbness of examining what she was worth, and realizing that it was nothing. |
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The blizzard swirled thickly around Goldleaf. She beat her wings, ignoring the pain stabbing through her shoulders. Perhaps it had been a mistake to take to the sky after all, to challenge the distance between the Icefield and the mainland.... She had wandered the Southern Icefield for...she didn’t know how long. Sometimes it felt like days, sometimes decades. But the duration didn’t matter; all that was constant was that empty feeling in her chest, the numbness that’d lain there since her banishment. A hollow void wanting to be filled, a hunger deeper than any she’d ever known. Somehow, one day, she’d looked up, seen the sea. And she’d realized that nothing in this frozen land would ever fill that void. Even before she’d fully processed the thought, her wings were spreading and she was leaping upwards. Her heart had known it before her mind had: It was time to move on. Goldleaf could fly for hours, and had done so in the past, mostly as part of her combat exercises. When the snow had started falling, she hadn’t minded, but all too quickly the snowfall had turned into a roaring blizzard. The world around her vanished into frigid whiteness. She pushed on, hoping she could make it out of the storm. The thought of turning back did cross her mind—once, and only once. And it filled her with such revulsion that it nearly made her sick; she could never return to the Southern Icefield. To do so would be...“dishonorable” didn’t seem to be the right word, but it was all she had.... She gritted her teeth, ignored the burning of her muscles, and continued flying into the storm. But no matter how much she struggled, it seemed to go on forever. The world became an all-consuming maelstrom of snow and cold and numbness. In the struggle to stay airborne, she didn’t notice exhaustion creeping in. It rolled over her like a blanket, shutting out all feeling, all thought, and her wings and eyes closed slowly as she tumbled through the air. Down, down, through the blizzard. Down, down, into the sea. And there she stayed, bobbing on the waves, until they carried her to a beach. Here the shore was sandy, and grass waved in the breeze. A shadow fell over the unconscious Imperial, and then a slender paw reached out, carefully cupped her cheek. “She is alive...!” 
Consciousness returned slowly to Goldleaf. Through her closed eyelids, she could make out light and flitting shadows. Her ears and nostrils quivered as she caught strange sounds and scents: the distant babble of unknown voices, and were those snatches of laughter? She had not heard laughter for a long time, not since she’d been a child.... She didn’t recognize the scents, exactly, but there were herbs and salves—and someone else. Another dragon. “You are welcome here, warrior. Be at ease. Nobody will harm you.” “How did she know I was awake?” Goldleaf thought. And then she opened her eyes, saw the tawny dragoness seated nearby. Her orb pulsed with Wind-green magic. A Skydancer. “Feeling better?” the Skydancer asked. Her eyes were kind, her smile warm. Hers was a face that would have calmed any patient—but kindness and warmth were alien to Goldleaf, who shrank back in uncertainty. “How did I get here?” “We found you on the nearby shore, but I’m not sure how you arrived there. Were you perhaps on a ship?” “No, I wasn’t. I...” Goldleaf took a deep breath as the memories came flooding back. The last thing she remembered was the blizzard; obviously she’d become too weak and fallen into the sea. Too weak. The Pearlcatchers had been right after all. A shiver of self-loathing ran through Goldleaf. “Thank you for tending to me, Skydancer. What would you like in return? If my supplies are still serviceable, perhaps I could...” She trailed off. Most of her supplies were gone, swept away by the sea. She spied her rapier leaning in the corner, and she stammered, “Or...maybe I could serve...” “Serve? No!” The Skydancer shook her head. Goldleaf hunched down further. So, even this stranger could perceive her weakness— “You are not weak.” The words came sharp and sudden, and so used was Goldleaf to that tone that she sat upright alertly. The Skydancer pulled the blankets over her wings, then went to stand in front of her head. “Why don’t we start over? I am Arwen, Council Head of Dandelion Clan.” A clan leader! Goldleaf was mortified. “Forgive my impudence, Leader Arwen. I did not—” “There is nothing to apologize for. We took you in and tended you of our own volition—and I assure you that we are happy to render aid. You have evidently had a hard journey...” Goldleaf sighed. After being banished, she had wandered the Icefield for some time. Alone—for what clan would have her? It had been hard, surviving in the wilderness, but she had done it— Only to crash-land here in this strange new clan. Her head drooped as Arwen continued, “You can help us by getting plenty of rest and recovering as soon as possible.” “Yes...I shall do that. I shouldn’t trouble you for long....” “I didn’t mean it that way,” Arwen said, very quietly and firmly. Long years of working with many different dragons had sharpened her ability to read others’ minds, and this strange Imperial’s emotions were like a dark cloud of gloom, uncertainty, and self-loathing. She would need careful tending, emotionally as well as physically. “Rest,” she said, and Goldleaf could only obey that brisk, commanding tone. “Someone will be by to check on you later. Before I leave, may I know your name?” “Goldleaf. Thank you, Council Head...I am grateful for your aid.” “It’s a start,” Arwen thought. And with that, she left to consult the clan’s Oracle.
Goldleaf might as well have crash-landed on the moon. Everything in this clan was so strange and she wasn’t sure how to deal with things. So many smiles. So much laughter. Dragons asked what she wanted to eat or drink; they actually cared what she wanted—and were happy to give her what she asked for! Under the care of Dandelion Clan, Goldleaf did indeed recover swiftly. She would not stay long. She would resume her solitary wanderings.... “I have spoken with the rest of the Council, and we are in agreement. We would like to offer you a place in our clan.” The Oracle was so much smaller than Goldleaf, a yellow Spiral with Wind-touched eyes—yet Goldleaf crouched warily before her as though she were an ominous foe. “I do not...I cannot...This clan is no place for me.” Breeze blinked in astonishment. “What makes you say that?” she asked. Arwen had warned her that Goldleaf’s emotions were difficult to comprehend, that her wounds burned deep within her. Her soul had been hurt again and again; pain and anxiety were all she’d ever known. “It is...a good place.” Goldleaf spoke slowly, haltingly. Her gaze moved around the room, briefly focusing on Breeze, then on the incense burners, on the kites and paper charms adorning the walls. “Perhaps it is...too good. People here are gentle and kind. A warrior like myself...I feel I’d do more harm than good here.” “You’re a warrior of great skill; even I can see that.” Breeze smiled. “We lead peaceful lives, but sometimes threats arise. We’d welcome someone of your caliber, someone who can defend us—or teach others to defend themselves.” And once again, Goldleaf’s heart knew the answer first—but this time, she managed to tamp it down. She wanted to stay here...but was it right? Did these dragons really need a disgraced fighter such as herself? Then, too, the customs of this land were unknown to her. Perhaps they were only asking as a form of courtesy, and the offer was not meant to be seriously entertained. “You’re a burden and should not inflict yourself upon another clan....” “At least consider it,” Breeze coaxed her. She reached out, patted one of Goldleaf’s enormous claws. “I shall,” the Imperial promised. It wasn’t a lie, either—she owed it to herself as much as to this clan. “To myself,” she thought as she walked slowly back to her den. She had been given temporary lodgings here, and had stayed long enough that many of the residents now knew her. Goldleaf found herself mumbling greetings, trying to return each grin with a smile of her own. It had been so difficult to do even that simple gesture at first—but it got easier with time. And it felt better, too, than cowering or getting yelled at. “Better. It is...better...” She looked around, and the bamboo groves, light streaming through the leaves and dancing among the fountains, made her heart soar. She paused for a moment—when had she felt that way before? Of course—not really all that long ago, when she’d stood beneath the aurora and looked at her clan’s ice palaces. The feeling of pride and honor, of having something to protect. That place was closed to her now...but maybe there was another place? “Breeze told me,” she said later at dusk. She’d asked to see the clan founders, and Arwen and Gale watched as she lowered her head, awkwardly bowing. “She said you...wanted me here?” “Why, yes, Goldleaf. Of course we do,” Arwen said. Gale nodded vigorously. Still, Goldleaf wasn’t sure. “You said something similar before, when I was ailing. But I am well now. You would...have me stay? Permanently?” “Would you like to stay?” The Imperial raised her head. She took a deep breath. “Yes. I would like that—very much.” Arwen clasped her claw in mute acceptance. Behind her, Gale’s furry face broke into a grin. “We’re glad to have you with us, Goldleaf. Welcome to the clan,” he declared.
“I will do better than...before,” Goldleaf said, shortly before her formal welcoming ceremony. Arwen and Breeze had been confused then. What did she mean, “before”? It had taken some time for Goldleaf to share her story with her clan, but she was glad that she had, for in them, she found support and acceptance. It still felt like a dream sometimes, realizing that she’d found the place she’d always longed for—and that others were genuinely happy to have her here as well. She still makes mistakes. There are so many things to do, so many things to learn....But in Dandelion Clan, free from rebuke and retribution, Goldleaf finds that she’s learning fast. A bit of the cold exterior falls away, bit by bit, each day. One thing hasn’t changed, and that’s the sense of honor she feels when she looks at the place she now calls home. The honor she feels at having a place to protect, clanmates to defend. She believes she’s found her honor again. Perhaps someday, she’ll realize she never truly lost it.... “Halt, stranger!” Today, Goldleaf confronts an intruder, a Ridgeback with Earth-brown eyes. A hostile invader, perhaps? “I mean you no harm, I’m not looking to fight right now. My name is Sharon. I’m a mercenary in need of work.” “I see,” Goldleaf grunts after a brief pause. She’s still suspicious of other breeds, particularly Pearlcatchers. But this Ridgeback seems earnest, and her posture is nonthreatening. Challenging her would be dishonorable.... “You are welcome here, warrior. Be at ease. Nobody will harm you.” “Do you have a name?” Sharon’s words cut through the flash of memory. She leans forward with an eager smile. And Goldleaf, finally, manages to relax. She smiles back—grudgingly, but it’s there. “Of course I do. I am Goldleaf...of Dandelion Clan.” |
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Credits:
Lore by Disillusionist
Original code by Kazukira
Decorations by mibella, poisonedpaper and me
Art by Macabrecabra
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