Aster

"I knew my days were numbered. In my dreams, I saw Glittermom's hand reaching out, calling me to her. In panic, I threw my pearls at her. 'Here, take these instead!', I screamed to her, 'I'm not ready to go!". When I awoke, I knew I had to make some changes. I stripped my pearls and took on some modeling jobs. I needed a new look and I needed it fast. I..needed to look so different that Glittermom herself wouldn't be able to recognize me." -Achi

When she was given the name Obsius…she knew she was doomed.

A hush settled over the clan, a storm holding its breath. Many of the younger members had vanished, whisked off to stay with an allied clan from the Shifting Expanse. But the lair wasn’t empty. It was full to bursting. Dragons coming in, dragons leaving. The Pearlcatchers wore their badges proudly. The Mercenaries trained, grimly looking forward to completing their duty.

The Plague was coming, casting its shadow on the usual Valightines preparations. No one could escape it. Trainers trained. Merchants marched to and from the auction house daily, building the clan’s vault for the coming battle. Even the miners were the overdrive, unearthing precious gems from the caverns beneath the ruins.

And…Obsius was at last given a name.

That night, she dreamed. The beacon stood tall before her, it’s great archways and pillars shining bright in the sun.

No.

She’d been given a name.

But…that spelled the beginning of the end.

To be one of the Exalted ones was an honor. She knew that. Older members than she had taken up arms at this coming battle, and everyone knew they would never return. They’d heard the Lightweaver’s call.

But…

I’m not /ready/.

She wouldn’t go. No.

In her dream she could hear the Lightweaver calling.

Upon waking, she could still hear it. Could still feel the weight of Glittermom’s claws on her shoulder.

No!

She refused the gentle prodding to join the others on the training grounds. She removed her jewels and shattered them against the wall. They’d been gifts to mark her entry to the clan, months ago.

“I won’t go!” She trilled at the distant silhouette of the Beacon, flaring her crest in agitation. She stood on the ruins above the lair, but her call still caught the attention of one. Aster. The chronicler raised her great head. The coatl glared defiantly back at the
Imperial.

Aster always knew. She could see it in those shadowed eyes. Aster knew her fate. She came closer and closer. Tears began to grow in the coatl’s fiery eyes. She didn’t want to go. She wasn’t ready. But if Aster spoke…it was time. Everyone knew that.

The great imperial peered down at her, then huffed. The great exhale of air nearly tossed the coatl off her perch. She shards of gemstone rained down below them, landing with faint clinks as they settled against stone.

Then change it, silly one. Don’t whine about it.

And with that, Aster went back to sleep, leaving a ruffled coatl in stunned silence.

…and she did. One of the merchants brought news of a modeling agency looking for new coatls to model their new line of accents. She signed up right away. Perhaps…perhaps if she could find herself…

Glittermom would let her stay.

Once she found her true name…she knew she’d be home forever.

Obsius was the name of an Exalted, and she would be an Exalted no longer.