Irshtu

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Mate: Why such attention? Family: --- Occupation: Nest Guard

Artwork: --- Front Page! 8 - 15 - 16

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Irshtu was born the second son of a pair of monarchs, and thus a prince by birth. His upbringing was a privileged one where he wanted for nothing, and amidst such luxury he grew vain and prideful. Accustomed to things coming and going according to his own whims, he saw no reason not to set out on his own after becoming bored of his clan. He was self-assured of his choices, but that doesn't do much out in the real world.

The pompous Skydancer drifted until he was somehow tangled up in the web that is Nocte. By then, he was already disillusioned from his previous aristocratic views, and very much aware that his royal blood held no real meaning in his new home. In a way, that made him bitter, and his poor persona made it difficult for him to find a niche to fit into within the clan. Truth be told, Irshtu didn't try terribly hard to find one either.

It was the Nest Mother, Demeter, who successfully changed the vain prince. Shortly after her arrival within the clan, she approached Irshtu and propositioned him to become a guard for the hatchlings. His petulant refusals, born of a feeling that such a position was beneath him, did absolutely nothing to deter her. Almost overnight the Nest Mother snapped him out of his self-entitled ways, turning vanity into blade sharp dedication.

No one is quite sure how she did it, and no one really bothers to ask either, but ever since it was as though Irshtu had become a different dragon. His job as a Nest Guard was taken with only the utmost seriousness, all of his attention and effort being put into how best to protect any hatchlings or incubating nests. He began investing a great deal of time into studying the nesting areas and surrounding territory, and made many suggestions on how to better improve defenses around them.

Though still prideful, he was not nearly as obnoxious as he had been when he first came to the clan. Where before he had sulkily kept to his own self, he began to slowly branch out until he'd come to cultivate a handful of steady friendships. A second guard came to serve beside him, and though he teased the soft-hearted Thallane, it was obvious he took an almost immediate liking to him.

The bond of brothers, if not blood then something deeper still, formed between them over time. Oh, Irshtu still mocked his friend's softness and meeker personality, but it was all in jest. When anyone else dared to lay a hand on him, verbal or otherwise, they were swiftly treated to the sharpest point of Irshtu's blade. He was a far cry from the self-important dragon who he had been.

If that same dragon had been faced with Sepheraph's revolt, he would have turned tail and run. He would have convinced himself that the battle was not his to fight, and not his responsibility no matter how long he had been within the clan. A war was a war, he would say, and he was no warrior. That dragon, though, who would have turned his back on the battlefield quicker than you could blink, was long dead by then.

The Irshtu who lived through the Revolt was one who saw the battle coming and squared his shoulders to face it. He knew Thallane was not a fighter, had never truly been, and so he took to the lead in his place. Protecting others was a foreign concept to his younger self, but yet here he was now. Grown and changed, into a man of prideful air but loyal heart, who would stand till his last breath to defend the home that had molded him.

In the aftermath, he prayed for the first time in many years, since the ceremonies he had been obligated to attend in his youth. He prayed to the Gladekeeper, and the Shadowbinder, thanking them for his life, and that they had spared so many others. But mostly, for the nests being empty, so no innocent lives had to have been lost.

He prayed more, in the months that followed, as Demeter's glow began to fade. Concern turned to worry, and worry into fear, as the woman who had changed his life drifted. Whatever would happen when her light was snuffed out was a mystery, death he could only presume, and the concept of existing without her warm guidance was more than daunting. It was terrifying. His job was to guard, not just the nests but her as well, and if he had failed...

Irshtu had never been a man of faith, but he prayed. He prayed every morning and every night.

It is difficult to say if his prayers were truly answered. Demeter's light was extinguished, flickering and then snuffed a breath later, but what came to pass afterwards is something that one cannot describe. Even if he could, Irshtu wouldn't. The experience left him exhausted, spiritually and emotionally, for a long while-- But it was nothing he wouldn't recover from. Demeter returned, reborn some said, and all was right again.

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