Serasorth

Serasorth The Healer

After a quick dismissal from Hellebore, you take flight and head towards what appears to be an enormous island set onto several levels--it almost looks as if a part of the Reedcliff Ascent were lifted from the ground into the sky. Scattered about the plots of land are beds with colorful tapestries laid over them, each with bamboo posters and woven leaf sunshades above. You can see a sparse number of dragons lounging on the beds, some with visible bandages and some without; one in particular is laid up with a large canister to one side. As you land on what you assume to be the ground level, a large, glittering blue Imperial emerges from a cave carved into the cliff face before you. He carries with him a large basket of herbs, a sphinx beside him doing the same. Pausing, he sets the basket down and offers you a soft smile. ”Why hello there! I do hope this is just a social call. I am Serasorth, the resident healer, and this here is my infirmary.”

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Origins

Pansexual Cisgender

Serasorth is one of the most empathetic and kind dragons, a trait his clan values. Often, younger dragons will come to Serasorth in hopes for advice or comfort, which he is more than happy to provide. He is always willing to keep his door open for the dragons that are struggling, including his patients that he tends to so diligently. He has formed a close father-daughter relationship with his apprentice, Xena, and is always willing to guide her in any of her troubles, particularly those involving her past illness and resulting paralysis. The two are often seen in conference during their work, Serasorth trusting Xena’s natural ability to care for others and her ever-growing skills, while Xena trusts the elder’s knowledge of the world. Despite this, Serasorth is not a pushover of a dragon. Though he will never resort to violence to get his opinion across, he is not easily swayed from what he believes is right and is unafraid to get in ones face when it comes to supporting his beliefs.

Though he was once mated to the dragoness Darkfury, she has since left the clan, leaving Serasorth's heart in ruins as his definition of beauty abandoned him; he tries his best not to harbor ill will towards the dragoness, but often finds himself angry at the hurt she caused him. Eventually, Nantis and Elspeth came to the Imperial and opened their relationship to him; they had been long time friends, which eventually culminated into a romance. He knew they were his support as much as he was theirs--for every time he advised them on matters of their hearts, they lent him a shoulder when his heart pained him. They balance each other in unexpected ways; where Serasorth is consistently and constantly selfless, working himself to the bone and collapsing in pain at the end of the day, Elspeth was selfish, stealing long hours of cuddles regardless of duty. Where Serasorth struggled to admit his problems to himself and others, Nantis reminded him he didn't have to fear it, that he could let himself be weak if only because they were there to protect him. Never before had Serasorth felt so safe than when he was in the company of his two mates. Often, Serasorth will act as a mediator between Nantis and Elspeth, bridging the gap between the careful and thorough mindset of Nantis and the more impulsive and fierce one of Elspeth.

Nantis: Husband Elspeth: Wife Xena: Apprentice

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“…What? He survived?”

“Yes, although I don’t expect him to live on for too long.”

A sharp pain jolts into his fragile heart, as he hears the painful words. He knows no one wants him in this clan. A lone tear slowly slides down his crystal blue cheek, seeping out from his squeezed shut lime green eyes. No one wants me. I’m a freak.

Slowly, he struggles to his tiny paws, and taking one wobbly step after another, pads silently away from his clan, away from everything he has ever known.

I need to go… I am not welcome here…

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He nods in understanding. “It’s okay. I don’t want to be a burden to your clan.” He stands up and leaves, his azure tail sweeping behind him as the young him hobbles out of the clan despondently. Behind him, he can hear whispers, whispers of how he is not fit to be in any clan, a freak that will never get better.

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The other Imperials eye him suspiciously.

“… what it he succumbs to his… weakness? And another of us dies?”

More boiling tears, carrying all the regret and hatred and sorrow, rolling down his muzzle, bursting from behind his closed eyelids, evaporating with all the anger and wrath he feels.

Regret for not killing himself sooner.

Hatred at the dragons who ostracise him.

Sorrow that he will never be accepted.

Never.

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“Of course! You can stay for as long as you want!” But when he tells them of his condition, the leader’s previously radiant smile instantly sours into an acrid scowl.

“Oh… it’s… okay, you can still stay…” he spits, forcing the words out like food gone bad. Serasorth sighs and shakes his head once more.

“No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to burden you with my presence.” He can almost see the relief in the leader’s eyes, as the Mirror awkwardly twitches his head fins.

Soon, he is on the clan border once again.

“This clan has no use for dragons who can’t contribute anything.” is the last thing hissed at him by an unknown warrior before he is pushed out of the clan border.

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He’s on the brink of collapsing, barely clawing his way through the Shifting Expanse. “Please… someone…” he gasps out, as the world around him wobbles and flickers. Then a looming shadow towers over him, and through his blurry senses, he can vaguely hear “Would you like to come back with us?”

The only thing he can do is nod gratefully, closing his eyes as he is hoisted onto a Guardian’s back.

Born to wind and whimsical light,
Destined to live a life of fight.
A slim blue body and red mane to pair,
A heart of thread too great to bear.

Imperial by name but living in pain--
His body to large for his heart to sustain.
He left his home and family behind,
Hoping his heart would not unwind.

This hope was false and left quite soon,
As he traveled from clan to clan under the moon.
Thrown from rest with tail tucked tight,
The imperial was ready to give up his fight.

In the lonely deserts of the Shifting Expanse
His luck changed with a single glance.
His heart, though made of fragile thread,
Would not leave the young healer dead.