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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.39 m
Wingspan
6.24 m
Weight
440.67 kg
Genetics
Mulberry
Crystal
Crystal
Maize
Shimmer
Shimmer
Blue
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
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C O R Y T H I A
The Charlatan Reaper
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When a Reaper is born, it is no small matter. They split from their Reaper parent, a small fragment of life energy blooming and growing, taking from both their parent and whomever happens to have bonded with their parent, a spirit born and manifesting in the form of a young child, to grow and to challenge their source for the right to an instrument of their legacy. In Moros's case, the children came as yet another surprise, four swirling orbs flickering and gleaming. If it wasn't for Fionn's fondness for what he explained being children, he would have swept them away into nonexistence with Amaria, rather than risk having the right to his beloved scythe stolen from him. Fionn, being an apprentice healer who leapt at the opportunity to raise children, who had stolen his affection, gave more than enough to the small souls' development. In that sense, she became their mother, and he, as much as he dreaded the idea, their father. They took their mother's shape when they gained physical forms, the small, dainty forms of pearlcatchers. From there, they seemed as normal children, and Fionn gladly took them under her wing, Moros trailing behind, the children absorbing knowledge like sponges, learning, growing, and it seemed that these reapers would break the pattern that all inherently followed. The pattern that Moros's first children, and Moros himself in his youth, had set. He was relieved. They were mortal. They had taken in so much of Fionn, that they had become hardly anything like him. Yes, they lacked hearts, and yes, they held many of his gifts. But they held more of Fionn's talent, more of her ability... More of her mortality, her life. Even if they did, the day came when the first and the last-formed instinctively challenged him in some way, the first-formed in the traditional manner, the last in more of a match of wills. Moros prevailed against the two of them, but Amaria saw fit that the first-formed gain his own instrument, rather than inherit the scythe. The last, on the other hand, received nothing, as she lacked every power that either Moros or Fionn possessed. Thus, the first-formed's soul was parted in two fragments, the smaller fragment forging a dagger, and his siblings' remained whole, leaving them to their own strengths. Altogether, each of the siblings' power finding a focal point in their pearls. To find herself devoid of any of her parent's talents was, in Corythia's eyes, to be nearly worthless in comparison to her blessed siblings. She couldn't understand Mitra's absolute refusal to acknowledge or even use his gifts, and she couldn't understand Kesrane's fear of his power, and she most certainly couldn't understand Cailan, who cared little for anything of his father's and instead focused on the living. She couldn't understand them, when all she had ever wanted was the power that they all could so easily possessed. She wanted it more than anything else, and she only had the standard elemental affinity that any shadow dragon had. She turned to pretense, with hope that perhaps, if she acted the part, the rest would come to her eventually. It did not, and when pretense failed, she only became ever more devout, soon challenging her father in a challenge of wits rather than power, mimicking Kesrane, as she saw him return with a the weapon that signified that he had recieved his instrument. She failed. The talents of the shadows were nothing compared to her father, and she walked away empty handed and infuriated, jealous of her brothers, who of all three of them, two didn't even seem to /care/ about obtaining an instrument. She fled that very night, calling herself a Reaper, utilizing everything she had to seem the part, dressing as she thought she should dress to play the part, sneaking into ruins to obtain artifacts that she knew could assist her in being what she should have been from the very beginning. An ancient ceremonial blade and an enchanted pendant became what she took everywhere, her pretense becoming her life, and soon enough, all she was was the lie that she felt was her birthright, as that was all she wanted to be, no matter what path she took to get there, no matter how far she had to delve into the dark. If the Shade could give her what she desired, then she would gladly embrace it, her mind a small sacrifice in comparison to her desire. |
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If ever you tire of this dragon, Hazeledpoppy, no. 35318 is more than willing to buy them back to rehome ^u^
(Notes to self- Siblings and fellow Reapers
(Notes to self- Siblings and fellow Reapers
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Insect stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Plant stocks are currently depleted.
Exalting Corythia to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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