Celina
(#15792677)
The Matron
Howl
Manticore Screamer
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.6 m
Wingspan
1.91 m
Weight
94.77 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Midnight
Shimmer
Shimmer
Midnight
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
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C E L I N A
• errand dragon • spirit seer • motherly • |
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Celina was born with an unusual gift. For as long as she can remember, she has been able to see things others couldn't - spirits, or souls if you will. Both nestled inside their host's body, and those left behind once it has decayed away. They frightened her, as a child. She begged and pleaded for them to leave her alone, but the more attention she gave the more would appear. At first her parents assumed it to be the ramblings of a youngster with an overactive imagination, but as Celina's desperation grew it became clear there was something serious plaguing her. Distraught, her parents brought her to countless mages and wise dragons, finally finding a Pearlcatcher sage said to be able to talk to the dead. She instantly recognized Celina's symptoms as the same she had experienced herself as a hatchling. The sage offered to take her in, to which her parents reluctantly agreed. The sage's Sight was different to Celina's - she could hear the spirits, but could only catch glimpses in the reflection of her pearl. But she was confident she could help the young dragoness learn to control her gift. She told her the spirits were harmless, simply creatures who hadn't yet passed on. They were nothing to be afraid of. Some hadn't had their presence acknowledged for centuries, so it was no wonder they would gather around and clamor for Celina's attention. And, slowly, Celina began to make her peace with them. When her mentor passed, Celina didn't know what to do with herself. Her wanderings lead her to join a trading party returning to Dragonhome, where they stumbled across the site of a beastclan massacre. The entire clan they had set out to find was gone, shot down by the harpies of Talona - save for a single, dying hatchling. It was a miracle Celina was able to save her, guiding her fading spirit into a clay vessel created by a local 'Ridgeback'. With nowhere to go the party split up, and Celina and newly reborn Keta were left to drift back to the Tangled Woods, where they eventually found the Sunless Sanctum. Celina's role in the Sanctum is hard to pin down. She acts as Arael's right hand, running errands and delivering messages to keep the Sanctum running smoothly. She's particularly good with hatchlings, as well as helping to soothe and calm down those in distress. Despite her lack of a defined role, she has been a stalwart member of the clan from the beginning, and none would dare suggest forcing her out - being the lifemate of the captain of the Sanctum Guard certainly doesn't hurt ether. In fact, it's hard to name a dragon that doesn't like her quiet, calm, yet incredibly kind nature. Not many know of her eerie gift, but with a heart as big as her's it's hard to imagine they'd think any differently of her even if they did. |
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Strength ██████████ Magic ██████████ Endurance ██████████ |
Agility ██████████ Charisma ██████████ Intelligence ██████████ |
Likes: •Deimos, Keta, & the Twins •Getting letters from Kenopsia •Learning to read & write from Davina •Sweet pastries •Her rescued pet manticore |
Dislikes: •The smell of blood •Leather, bone, & eating meat •Dry, cracked earth •Violence •Judgement & prejudice |
It was a long and exhausting journey over the channel from the Tangled Wood. When the travelling party first felt the hard earth of Dragonhome beneath their feet after many hours et sea, their relief was not without its caution. The great eastern hills of the Shattered Plain were filled with their own dangers, and the exhausted travellers chose to spend the first night in the relative safety of the open shoreline.
It was there she saw him. The silhouette of a huge beast against the lightening dawn, all razor spines and smeared blood. But there was something about him, something she couldn't quite explain. So she went closer.
It was then she realized he was not what she first thought he was. He was not covered in damp blood, rather a rich red clay. He was not seemingly dangerous. And he was not alive.
Well, not in the conventional sense. He was definitely not made of flesh and blood, not born into this form. He was not really alive, but certainly not dead either. And as she slinked closer, stomach close to the cool and damp earth by the shore, she saw what he was doing. A sculpture, unlike any she had ever seen. The clay forms replicated that of a Guardian dragon exactly, had she not seen it as empty of a soul she couldn't have known it was not breathing. It was uncanny, unnatural. Her burning curiosity quickly overcame any fear she had of this strange creature, and raising herself up from the scattered boulders she softly spoke.
"Who are you?"
He was suspicious and nervous, at first. Most other dragons went out of their way to avoid him out of blind fear. To them, he was a monster. She didn't think so, for he too had a soul just like any other.
- - -
As the first sun began to pierce to empty sky, she returned to the camp. Her companions were just waking up, blurry with sleep. They didn't notice her absence, or if they did, felt no need to comment. They began the long journey on foot to the Tangled Wood.
There was smoke on the horizon, blood in the air. The group pressed on, desperately hoping the chaos was not from where they were headed. Until they came across the first of the bodies. They were torn and broken, arrow-marked carcasses quickly drying out in the fierce morning sunlight. Quickly checking for survivors (there were none) or salvageables, they forced themselves to survey the surrounding area.
And then the hatchling. A young female, ribs split and wings ripped clean off. Yet she was still alive - just. But it did not take a healer to realize that her injuries were grievous and would soon be fatal. It pained her to watch the young dragon's spirit begin bleeding out into the dry dusty air, where it would soon be blown away. Although the hatchling's eyes were glassy with pain, she could see the soul looking at her.
Such a young life, taken so unfairly. What possible crime could merit this unspeakable brutality of an innocent?
Without pausing to explain herself, she scooped up the broken body and began to speed off towards the channel.
- - -
He was still there by the shore when she returned, still painstakingly carving scales into the soft, fertile clay. Her companions were racing after her, having given up calling out for explanations. "Move" she gasped at the Ridgeback, barely stopping to catch her breath before dragging the limp body to the water's edge. There was no time, she could see the ghost edging away, ties between the body and spirit disintegrating.
And so she reached out her hand, forced a gentle smile, and spoke to it. "Come. Let me guide you."
With wide eyes and slow movements, she lead the ghost to the clay sculpture. The hatchling was well and truly dead now, she could not fail. The spirit paused, shivered. "It's okay" she whispered, "Come".
And with a shudder, the spirit sunk into the still-damp clay. Moments passed like eons, companions staring at her in utter confusion. They could never understand what she had just attempted, couldn't see her guiding the spirit to a new body.
They probably thought her mad.
But then, the clay Guardian's eyes opened.
It was there she saw him. The silhouette of a huge beast against the lightening dawn, all razor spines and smeared blood. But there was something about him, something she couldn't quite explain. So she went closer.
It was then she realized he was not what she first thought he was. He was not covered in damp blood, rather a rich red clay. He was not seemingly dangerous. And he was not alive.
Well, not in the conventional sense. He was definitely not made of flesh and blood, not born into this form. He was not really alive, but certainly not dead either. And as she slinked closer, stomach close to the cool and damp earth by the shore, she saw what he was doing. A sculpture, unlike any she had ever seen. The clay forms replicated that of a Guardian dragon exactly, had she not seen it as empty of a soul she couldn't have known it was not breathing. It was uncanny, unnatural. Her burning curiosity quickly overcame any fear she had of this strange creature, and raising herself up from the scattered boulders she softly spoke.
"Who are you?"
He was suspicious and nervous, at first. Most other dragons went out of their way to avoid him out of blind fear. To them, he was a monster. She didn't think so, for he too had a soul just like any other.
- - -
As the first sun began to pierce to empty sky, she returned to the camp. Her companions were just waking up, blurry with sleep. They didn't notice her absence, or if they did, felt no need to comment. They began the long journey on foot to the Tangled Wood.
There was smoke on the horizon, blood in the air. The group pressed on, desperately hoping the chaos was not from where they were headed. Until they came across the first of the bodies. They were torn and broken, arrow-marked carcasses quickly drying out in the fierce morning sunlight. Quickly checking for survivors (there were none) or salvageables, they forced themselves to survey the surrounding area.
And then the hatchling. A young female, ribs split and wings ripped clean off. Yet she was still alive - just. But it did not take a healer to realize that her injuries were grievous and would soon be fatal. It pained her to watch the young dragon's spirit begin bleeding out into the dry dusty air, where it would soon be blown away. Although the hatchling's eyes were glassy with pain, she could see the soul looking at her.
Such a young life, taken so unfairly. What possible crime could merit this unspeakable brutality of an innocent?
Without pausing to explain herself, she scooped up the broken body and began to speed off towards the channel.
- - -
He was still there by the shore when she returned, still painstakingly carving scales into the soft, fertile clay. Her companions were racing after her, having given up calling out for explanations. "Move" she gasped at the Ridgeback, barely stopping to catch her breath before dragging the limp body to the water's edge. There was no time, she could see the ghost edging away, ties between the body and spirit disintegrating.
And so she reached out her hand, forced a gentle smile, and spoke to it. "Come. Let me guide you."
With wide eyes and slow movements, she lead the ghost to the clay sculpture. The hatchling was well and truly dead now, she could not fail. The spirit paused, shivered. "It's okay" she whispered, "Come".
And with a shudder, the spirit sunk into the still-damp clay. Moments passed like eons, companions staring at her in utter confusion. They could never understand what she had just attempted, couldn't see her guiding the spirit to a new body.
They probably thought her mad.
But then, the clay Guardian's eyes opened.
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Exalting Celina to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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