Ancora
(#21071144)
The Eternal Sentinel
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 40/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.05 m
Wingspan
6.05 m
Weight
587.2 kg
Genetics
Banana
Metallic
Metallic
Lemon
Alloy
Alloy
Gold
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Nocturne
Max Level
STR
133
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
40
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
|
ANCORA The Eternal Sentinel |
|
In the beginning, there was heat, light, and the cold heart of a long-dead star. The first sight Ancora witnessed when she opened her eyes was the slender figure of a goddess. Almost instinctively, she lowered her head to the ground in respect, not daring to look her creator in her eyes. She could feel the magic pouring from the goddess, the same magic that now resided in Ancora herself. It pulsed between them like the embers of a dying fire. Images flashed through her mind, quick and fleeting as lightning. Ancora shivered as hundreds of lifetimes pierced her mind, as the pain and fear and euphoria of centuries threatened to tear her apart. It was only a moment, but it seemed like an eternity. Then the images slowed, stopped, and her world went dark.
• • •
Metal scraped against gold-veined marble as Ancora startled awake. She was still laying on the same marble floor where she had first opened her eyes. But the presence of the Lightweaver was gone, and the room, once illuminated, was now dim and foreboding. Ancora stood, using her wings to balance for the first time. The images from before filled her mind again, only this time without the pain. This time, she understood them for what they truly were―memories. Memories gifted to her by the Lightweaver, lessons learned by others so she wouldn't have to. These were her defense against the world, a place she'd never experienced before but felt like she knew completely. In some ways, she knew it better than any mortal dragon could ever hope to. It was because of these memories that she knew something about her was wrong. Her hide was not leathery or scaled or feathered like it should have been. It was smooth, unyielding metal, shining like a queen's vast hoard of gold. And her eyes. Their reflection in the marble floor was strange, as if they were glowing. She wondered if it was her imagination. Perhaps the marble had warped her reflection. She quickly found an exit to the marble room, emerging into a strangely familiar place. Above her head, the stars always wheeled in the night sky, and not one of the seven moons ever made an appearance. Beneath her were sparse clouds, drifting aimlessly. Ancora tucked in her wings and dived beneath the clouds. She saw―not for the first time―the magnificent Eternal Palace itself, the towering, gilded palace of the gods. The Realms of Eternity were impossibly beautiful. At their center was the Eternal Palace, home to the Lightweaver and her siblings. Spiraling outward, she could see the formidable ebony wall that surrounded the Everhall's pristine grounds. In one direction was the edge of the breathtaking Dragonsong Meadow, vividly green even from so high above the palace. Somewhere within was the Gilded Valley, hidden from sight. In another, she saw the distant Hollow Mountains, sitting atop the Caves. Beyond them, she knew the Scorched Plains and the Ravaged Cliffs would be waiting. In another direction, the Ending Ocean began, stretching far beyond what she could ever hope to see. At its edge would be the Icefalls. In another direction, the Windwall obscured forested hills that turned black and brittle at the beginning of the Shadowlands. Beyond them would be Nihilim. Impossibly far beyond it all was the Dreamscape, something she knew was only found when it was supposed to be. She hoped it would remain hidden from her for a very long time.
• • •
Ancora had known her name from the moment she came into existence. She had chosen it. It was an ancient word in a tongue used only by the gods. It meant hope. It meant there was something yet to come. It meant a light in the darkness. It meant something to hold onto, something left when all other things were gone. It meant all these things and more. Yet her creator called her Lux. Lux, you are to never leave your post. Lux, you are my creation, crafted from my own element―chrysalloy. Lux, your power comes from the Core itself. Can you sense it? Lux. So simple. It meant nothing more than light. And it came from nothing more than a selfish goddess who named her greatest creation after her own gift. And not such a grand one, either. Ancora knew the true story of where her creator's power came from. The Lightweaver and her siblings were hardly deities. But that was another story, meant to be told on another day. As the centuries passed, the spark of anger within Ancora grew. The pedestal atop which she sat did not seem to age, but Ancora knew time was passing. Somewhere, in another realm, seven moons waxed and waned. Sometimes the night sky was bright. Other times, the seven moons blinked out of existence, leaving their sky barren and dark. And still she waited, playing the role of dutiful sentry while the gods came and went from their grand palace. Only once did she see her creator in all that time. The memory still stung. The Lightweaver had flown from Everhall on swift wings, passing directly by the entrance Ancora guarded. Ancora, foolishly, had reached out, exactly how the Lightweaver had first reached out to her, sharing memories. Asking for her creator to notice her. The goddess, though she heard Ancora, did not answer her. It would be something she would come to regret.
• • •
The shrouded figure came on what would have been the darkest day of the year on Sornieth. Swirling, misty shadows surrounded the figure, obscuring her identity from Ancora. There was no doubt that the figure's intentions were malevolent. Ancora felt her goddess take notice of the threat. She felt the Lightweaver weighing options and deciding the figure was not powerful enough to warrant her full attention. The matter was left entirely up to Ancora to handle. Another mistake made by a supposed god. The shrouded figure spoke in a silent whisper, thoughts passing directly into Ancora's mind. It told of hatred and power. It whispered of vengeance. It speculated of the light within Ancora. It spoke of the power she had, an overlooked ability that even Ancora had never considered. The Lightweaver's third mistake. The figure spoke of a creature, waiting in the dark beyond the Realms. Ancora knew what the figure was suggesting, underneath the temptations of revenge and freedom. However much she hated the Lightweaver, she would not take part in the destructive plan the shadowy figure was suggesting. But Ancora did not stop her, did not utter a warning to her goddess as the figure vanished into the darkness. She would not aid the plan, but she would not stop it, either. And so she waited, alone, hoping for and dreading the end that would soon come.
• • •
It had been nearly a year since the shadowed figure came to visit. A mere moment in time, what felt like seconds atop the pedestal she never left. Nothing of note had happened that year. Ancora had simply watched the darkness for threats that never arrived. Until they did, she supposed. Only, the shadowy figure had not returned to the Realms of Eternity. It had struck the weakest realm of the gods, torn apart the starpath that linked the two realms together. The shadowy figure had destroyed the deities' only connection to Sornieth. Ancora still did not leave her post. But she witnessed the gods' intense fury, the powerful explosions of wild magic they created in an attempt to return to the place of their creation. Then she witnessed how their anger ebbed into fear. She couldn't help but feel that they deserved to be so humbled. And yet . . . there was a nagging doubt in her mind, a warning bell sounded by the memories given to her by the Lightweaver so long ago. What would happen to the mortal dragons, stranded on Sornieth? What would the shadowy figure do without the presence of the gods to deter it? Ancora knew that Sornieth would remain mostly unchanged. The Core would still serve as the beating heart of the planet, fueling the magic that kept all dragons alive. But if something had the ability to sever the link between worlds, destroying the path entirely . . . The Realms of Eternity were not merely another territory of the gods. They were the sole link to the Dreamscape, the place all dragons traveled to after death. They were the only defense between eternity, and . . . Ancora realized then that none of her memories had prepared her for this. No dragon in existence knew what would happen if they were cut off from the Dreamscape, severed from the promise of something after death. Ancora shivered at the realization, wondering what fate would lie in store for the dead now. |
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