Pen

“See this, Pen?” A claw pointed at the yellowed map unfurled upon the table, marking a spot on the otherwise empty sea. “Down there, there’s a temple like no one’s ever seen before. You and me, we’ve been to some good places, but this one is different.” The elder dragon’s eyes widened, the familiar adventurous gleam that Pen knew so well had returned to his expression.

“Someday, we’ll go there together. You’re not quite ready for it yet, my boy.”

That someday never came. Pen’s mentor perished in the grip of a deadly spike trap, when his old bones had been unable to propel him out of harm’s way. Even now, the grisly image haunted Pen’s sleep, but in memory of his beloved teacher, he had sworn to find this elusive temple and discover its true secrets. His skills and reflexes, Pen put to the test with every ancient ruin and sacred temple he found - regardless of whether its origins and history, his insatiable curiosity and sharp intellect invariably led him to the heart of these mysterious places in the end, while picking up some form of treasures on the way back.

Now he stood at the shore, overlooking the tranquil waves that lapped at the sand and tickled his feet. The salty breeze was refreshing while it lasted, Pen took a deep breath to calm himself, while he readied the wind magic that would allow him to breathe underwater.

He had awaited this moment for years. He’d pored through the most complex and intricate of trap systems, learnt to disable and avoid their attacks, pushed himself to get to the bottom of every ruin he came across. It was reckless, it was brash, no one else would have been able to pull off such feats time and again but him. Even his clanmates feared for his safety, but he alone knew his limits. The old Pen, perhaps, had not been ready, but standing here years later, Pen felt like he could take on anything.

Into the depths of the sea he plunged, his tiny body slicing through the water faster than most fish could swim, wings tucked in close to his sides. The burst of startling coldness against his scales sobered his mind somewhat, sharpened his focus as he dove deeper, trusting his magic to provide the oxygen he needed. It took him long minutes to reach a suitable depth that the temple was supposed to be located at, Pen pulled himself out of his dive and studied his surroundings. At this level, the waters were murky, he could just barely make out the flitting outlines of marine life swimming past him, but then again, how hard could it be to find what was rumoured to be an ancient temple of the Tidecaller himself?

His magic was just beginning to run out when the hulking silhouette in the shadows caught his keen eyes. Pen squinted for a moment. How strange, that didn’t look like a temple at all, not with a spiraling shape like that. The fae backed up a little, before his eyes widened in astounded amazement. It was indeed part of the temple, the rest of it had sunk beneath the surface long ago over time, but what little he could see appeared intact. If he peered closely, there was a crumbling gap in the spiralling structure, just enough for someone his size to squeeze into.

What other choice was there but to enter?

Getting in had been easy. Surviving long enough to discover its secrets, however, was not.
As soon as Pen had entered, the whistling whine of something rushing overhead forced him to duck. He threw himself to the ground as the axe narrowly swung over his head, the wind it generated just barely brushed his neck. Two more axes whizzed past him as he tried to make his way out of the traps. A well-timed roll was enough to get him clear of each.

Pen straightened once he was free, though the sight of bones scattered across the floor made him shudder. Who had once tread these sacred halls? Whoever it was,they had paid with their life. On silent footsteps he made his way through the winding pathways, some of which had collapsed in on themselves, others crawling with monstrous beasts the likes of which Pen didn’t care to face. He was an explorer, not a fighter.

No matter which way he turned, it seemed as if fortune was smiling down upon him - there was only one clear path forward. As tangled with traps as the way proved to be - from stone spikes stabbing forth viciously from seemingly nondescript walls, to the pressure plates that sent a massive boulder bowling in his direction, to how the doors would grind shut until he solved ancient puzzles that unlocked the way forwards - all of it treacherous, but Pen wasn’t about to turn back now.

He had come this far. He would see it through to the end, this old dream of theirs.

A great, encarved set of massive double doors stood before Pen at last. A shaking hand reached out to trace the markings engraved into the ancient stone, Pen mouthed the words he had once heard his mentor speak many years before.

“Here lies the sanctuary of the Tidecaller. You who have proved yourself worthy, step forth, and may the tides always carry you to your destination.”

Trembling - though he couldn’t be sure if it was from anticipation or fear - Pen gave the doors a push. To his wonder, they swung open easily - had the hinges been oiled somehow? - and he stepped into the temple’s innermost chambers.

How this place had survived the ravages of time, Pen did not know. Every inch of the forbidding stone walls was etched with runes, written in a language from times long past. The air was musty, but carried with it a faint sense of sorrow, perhaps from the temple’s abandonment. Once, this could have been a beautiful place, with the sunlight filtering through the windows to shine down on the altar in the very middle of the room. Now all that remained was eternal silence, and the chilling gloom that seemed to permeate the very foundations of the building.

His eyes locked onto the faintly shimmering stone set in the middle of the altar, Pen forgot all about examining the room for further artifacts and strode over to examine it more carefully. Myriad colors flickered through the orb’s glassy surface, never quite remaining still, and while the stone itself was likely worth a fortune, Pen knew better than to dislodge it and possibly spring a fatal trap. No, from his studies of his mentor’s materials, he knew the true secret behind the altar’s adornment.

Tenderly, as if caressing the cheek of a newborn, Pen took hold of the orb and twisted it to the side once. Something below it gave way, and he pressed the orb down into the newly formed depression beneath it.

“I who have conquered the Tidecaller’s trials, the rightful owner and bearer of the Tidecaller’s blessing - let the waves part for me, and let the secrets of the sea itself wash through my veins.”

His voice rang through the empty chamber as the orb flared with a sudden, startling brilliance, the sheer brightness forcing Pen to shield his eyes and retreat lest it blind him completely. From the ground beneath, something rumbled faintly, before a hidden compartment in the floor slid open, revealing an ornately decorated chest within. With shaking hands Pen fumbled to undo the lock, only to find it was already unlocked. His throat having gone dry, the fae forced himself to swallow as he gingerly lifted the lid of the chest, surely whatever treasure trove within would be worth its weight ten times over-

A single note lay within the empty chest.

Pen sank to his knees with a thud, his mind had gone completely numb with disbelief. How? How could this be so? Was this the famed treasure of the Tidecaller, or was it some cruel joke from life itelf? He snatched it up furiously, intending to rip it apart for daring to crush his dreams, everything he had worked for the past few years - and stopped.

In the depths of the abandoned temple, Pen’s bittersweet laughter rang out clear as a bell as he hunched over the empty chest, shoulders still heaving while he gasped for breath amidst the spasms wracking his tiny body. Of course, he should have known it would come to this.

“You really did do it in the end, didn’t you, master?”

On the note was a single line, written in the familiar, messy scrawl Pen knew too well.

“Better luck next time, my boy.”

above written by rei711 412398

[size=1} old lore notes
Is it possible
So cruel intent,
So hasty heat and so soon spent,
From love to hate, and thence for to relent?

Is it possible
That any may find
Within one heart so diverse mind,
To change or turn as weather and wind?

Is it possible
To spy it in an eye
That turns as oft as chance on die,
The truth whereof can any try?

It is possible
For to turn so oft,
To bring that lowest which was most aloft,
And to fall highest yet to light soft:
It is possible.


-ocean explorer, a real indiana jones type
-not as lucky and no protagonist's shield though
-uses wind magic to breathe underwater for a while, but not forever
-extremely fast swimmer, agile and strong
-too small to bring most finds back to the clan, so he'll mark the location (how?)
-maren villages, temples to the tidelord, forgotten water dragon lairs
-irresponsible with money
-owes a couple people a small debt pretty much always
-but he always pays them back
-had a great childhood