Bewitchment

Born into a family of magic users, Bewitchment was expected to find her specialisation at a young age. Her brothers thought she would excel in divination and her sisters thought she would be a natural in healing. Bewitchment struggled to find her calling as a hatching, struggled to find what would come easily to her. As she grew older and her hatchmates found their specialisations, she grew to worry that perhaps, she was born without natural talent.
When Bewitchment had grown into adulthood she volunteered to fly correspondence messages between clans. She would transport messages and attempt to stay out of trouble. Occasionally she would dabble in some spell work, but she found her heart wasn't in it anymore. It was only until one day, when corresponding a message, that she found her talent.
Bewitchment had accepted the job because it had sounded easy enough. The clan expecting the letter wasn't far into Plague territory, in a fairly safe area. Not as safe as places in her home flight, but safe enough. She had crossed the boundary lines, made the short flight to meet the Clan leader and had begun her trip home. She had almost returned to nature when she heard it. Wheezing, like something struggling to take it's next breath. She found Bani, lying in a plain of the deserted wasteland. He was covered in festering claw marks and barely breathing. Bewitchment knew she couldn't save him, he was far too gone and healing had never been her talent. It didn't stop her from trying. She applied mixtures of herbs, bandaged his wounds and chanted everything her oldest brother had taught her. Nothing appeared to work and Bani passed on.
Bewitchment had seen death before but never alone. She had seen elder dragons press messages of love, compassion and hope into those that had died. All she wanted was to give something to this dragon she had met.
She had placed her clawed hands over his heart and begun to murmur prayers to the gods. That's when she felt a sudden thud against her claws. it started slow but sped up slowly. A heartbeat. Bani's heart had started back up. As his blood began pumping again and he took a breath in, the colourful plumage of his feathers began to turn black, like oil gliding over his features. As most of his feathers turned black as night, some feathers faded just as quickly. These white feathers became an outline of his skeleton, a reflection of his inside on the outside. When Bani awakened, returned to the world of the living, he accompanied Bewitchment to her clan.
Bewitchment had found her specialisation and her natural talent. She could reach past the realm of the living, to those who had passed on and bring them back to their physical bodies. Necromancy, while unusual, was not unheard of and Bewitchment proved to quickly learn the skill.