Aramos

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Mate: Unwillingly he is drawn to him... Family: --- Occupation: Warrior

Artwork: Album

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If one were to describe Aramos, it is not unthinkable that the words "aloof" and "easy-going" would be chiefly among the descriptors. This facet of his personality, this unruffled nature of his, was present from the moment he joined the clan. Though he spoke little of where he had come from or why he was now here, it was difficult to imagine him doing anything terribly strenuous or stressful. And yet, in just the way he moved, there was the corded strut of a warrior.

He could be found taking long swims along the coast, or settled on the rocky shore basking under the sun. The shoreline had not been within Nocte's territory long, when he arrived, but he kept the border well, though no one could recall ever seeing him fight for it.

The trainee Archivists began to come to him for help retrieving trinkets from the seabed and to revel in his easy attitude amidst their taxing studies. If their requests or presence ever bothered him, Aramos did little to let on.

And yet despite his exterior, Aramos was an alert and dedicated protector from the moment the clan took him in as their own. His relaxed posture and lazy gaze disguise a kind of relaxed viciousness that hides beneath his skin. Only the most confident of predators can allow themselves to be at ease, and so it begs the question just what sort of hunter Aramos might be, that he can so easily be at rest.

As long as anyone in Nocte has known him, Aramos has had difficulty sleeping and spent his nights watching the skies glittering above the sea. He displayed a vast knowledge of astronomy and the ocean, and some suggested that this might be put to better use as an Archivist rather than a Warrior. But always, Aramos has refused. No one is sure why, for he never answers this if asked.

It became apparent, eventually, that Aramos' unaffected visage had less to do with self-confidence, and more to do with self-control. The Revolt came and went for him, though he too fought for the clan and walked away with blood under his talons and flesh in his teeth. Minimal fuss followed the whole affair, and he seemed wholly unchanged by it.

Xia-Feng, who before then had been something of a friend and thereafter became one in certainty, was the first in memory to call his bluff. Aramos, he had realized, internalized the things he felt to a point that they no longer appeared on his outward self. He preferred to only acknowledge his more intense feelings in complete solitude, no matter what this may cost him in the end.

Few have ever seen him bow under the weight of his own heart, fewer still since his arrival in Nocte. Xia-Feng became one of those solitary few, and out of respect to his friend, he never spoke of it.

In the time that followed this dismissal of his airy mask, something else of Aramos came to light. To an outside observer, it was unclear when it started, only that it has been going on far longer than Aramos may ever admit. He met at times with a strange dragon that seldom few seemed to recognize, and upon returning from these meetings he was always worn thin, exhausted and non-verbal. It became swiftly worrying, once it came to light.

In actuality, these meetings were far more concerning than even that. To call them "meetings" at all afforded them a bit too much credit, for in truth they were far from willing on Aramos' part. It was such that a dragon-- a beast, really, a leviathan of old --had set his eyes on Aramos and would not be dissuaded from his pursuit. The whole of the ocean was this dragon's playground, and yet it was Aramos had drew him, and Aramos who simply could not escape. The wear on his physical self he could stomach, straighten his back and bear in silence.

But it began to wear on his mind. As if there too the leviathan had sunk his fangs in and began to gnaw away at sanity, taking Aramos apart a piece at a time. ( As if he hadn't hollowed him out already. )

When this was addressed, however briefly in passing, Aramos merely dismissed it as his own concern and not something to linger on. Xia-Feng had trouble swallowing this excuse, and kept a wary eye on his friend. There was something more going on than Aramos was admitting, and as much as the aloof dragon tried to appear as though he could, he could not bear the weight of the world on his own.

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