Sanghenfil
(#22989586)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Seawater Savior
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
25.87 m
Wingspan
23.15 m
Weight
7129.43 kg
Genetics
Azure
Iridescent
Iridescent
Platinum
Shimmer
Shimmer
Midnight
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
The Sanghenfil
The Depths/Monster/Sea-front Guardian
The Depths/Monster/Sea-front Guardian
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Three innocent hatchlings splash in the deep tidepools of the Zephyr reefs. Few know of these secluded bays that enter into the Sea of a Thousand currents. The rivers that run to the heart of the Wind territory come from these waters, a mixture of salt and freshwater. But these waters are north enough to be still considered the part of the ocean. Still deep enough to be inhabited by monsters. The hatchlings splash out farther as their parents chat and lounge on the warm sand. Two baby Skydancers boys take the lead and one little Spiral boy splashes clumsily behind them. The waters are warm, and soft currents slowly coax them farther from the mountainous jungles of Wind and towards the merciless depths of the Sea.
Something stirs in the deep.
The hatchlings hardly notice at first, only giggle as bubbles tickle their toes. The thing twists below them, its eyes never leaving their small, soft wings. Useless. Bubbles tickle its gills as it pauses, waiting. It's scales shimmer like those of a fish as the weak rays from above brush its skin. It snarls at the sun, but thrashes its powerful tail. It comes within ten feet of the hatchlings and stops, sweeping its tail and causing a wave to wash over their heads. They stop laughing. The creature sees the watery reflection of one of the Skydancers as it peers, terrified down into the water below. The hatchling catches a glimpse of his lithe, long shape and shrieks. He beats his wings desperately, but the feathers that serve him so well in the sky are useless when wet. The others follow suit and scream as they desperately make their way to shore. The creature watches with mild amusement as the Skydancers swim slowly, but surely towards the shore. He snorts. They will never know how to swim properly. They will always draw attention with their useless flapping and splashing. Swimmers are silent, sleek and deadly, like him. A splash catches his attention. The baby Spiral is desperately trying to make his way to land but that long body is awkward to control. The creature grins and swims slowly towards the Spiral. He toys with him at first, allowing the webbed crest of his back to cut the surface of the water like a knife. The Spiral screams and the creature grins, swimming on his back to let his tail brush the feet of the hatchling. The Spiral flops around as his two friends desert him and the creature dives back down. Time for the finale. With a powerful surge of his tail, he aims himself directly to the side of the baby, and shoots upwards at a tremendous speed. With a grin he bursts out of the water showering waves all over the Spiral. He rises to his stomach, nearly ten meters out of the water. Striped blue scales shimmer as water cascaded down his flanks, and an obsidian black underbelly is laced with scars. Fins drag on the surface of the water, changing from blue to green to violet in rapid succession. He blinks his third eyelid down at the baby and opens his mouth, revealing knife sharp teeth. The baby scream again and the creature smiles as he lunges towards the Spiral and...he takes the baby gently between his jaws. The hatchling of course continues to wail as though he is being murdered and the creature rolls his eyes. He swims towards the shore, wincing as the sand grits against his underbelly. With one last flip of his tail he beaches the top half of his body, and ever so gently drops the hatchling onto land. Of course it doesn't thank him, it simply sobs uncontrollably as its mother takes him in her arms. She at least offers him a thankful smile, but creatures of the air don't appreciate creatures of the deep like him. He chokes on the acrid air and the sounds scream into his skull. His sensitive ears pick up everything, ears that are designed for the muffled, minute noises of the deep. With a growl he awkwardly flops away from the beach as the sand grinds into his stomach. He snorts some up his nose as he takes a breath underwater, but the ocean water cools his lungs, burning from the air. He pushes off from the beach, digging his thick talons into the sand to shove himself forward. Finally the waters grow cold and the sand melts into darkness. With one last shake to rid himself of the sand, he flips his tail in the air to the dragons on the beach and plunges into the blackness. The darkness slowly swallows him up as he coils down, down, deeper. There are things here, things which are much worse enemies than baby Spirals. Things which could even prey on the Sanghenfil himself.
~~~~~~~~~~
The air, usually so pure and colourful with the sound of tropical birds is acrid and flat, devoid of any noise save the lapping of water on the beach. It is a hollow, empty sound compared to its usual roaring. Trees that lined the cliffs around the bay are broken, snapped in two. They float on the surface of the water lifelessly; jagged lines on a flat grey sea. The beach is littered with debris and leaves, the forest bent and weary as if something had carved it's way through with a stone knife. The playful wind is wounded and sad, swirling through the broken branches like a lost soul.
A war has happened here, a war between the Deities.
For once, the Sanghenfil is helpless. He is a long shape on the beach, beaten and bruised by the battle. The waves and water that he was so comfortable in betrayed him and threw him here to suffer on the beach. His breath comes in ragged gasps; his gills struggle against the harsh pure air. Lungs, weak from disuse struggle in the air, full of sand and coated with salt. His skin is dry and rubbed raw from the sand and tthe sun. Small wounds and bruises litter his once-shimmering cerulean body. Every sound makes him flinch, and every breath of wind and blare of sun assaults his eyes.He will die if he doesn’t leave the harsh open air. The Sanghenfil, for all his years, is young for his species. Barely at the age where one is considered a man. He’s seen many wars below the swirling foam of the oceans, has many scars, killed many times. But now as he faces death, he can’t help but let out a small whimper of agony. He will never again see the painted canvas of the reefs, never again feel the glorious pressure of the deep constrict his hard muscle against his bones. He will never feel the spray from the dolphins as they chase him through the currents or dive, coiling, between the steam vents of the sea floor. He loves his life. He opens his eyes for a fraction of a second and the sun stabs into his sensitive irises, sending pain shooting up his spine. There’s a figure on the beach. It a dark, skin figure of a dragon and he snarls at it, but the dryness of his throat makes it feel like he’s ripping the skin from the inside of his mouth. It’s a female. She’s dark and mottled grey-blue, like the sea floor, wrapped in bright red and blue fabrics. Her eyes are wide as she approaches him; reaching out tentatively. The Sanghenfil tries to move away from her but the sand and debris grits into the wounds he can feel up and down his long body. When he moves his talons in the sand next to his flanks, it is thick and sticky with a dark substance, even though the tide has gone out hours ago and he’s washed up too far to be anywhere near the water. ‘Oh God,’ comes the voice of the Skydancer. ‘What happened to you?’ He feels her place a gentle talon on his neck where the fins above his gills lie flat and lifeless. The dragoness listens to the beating rasp of each breath and she sets her jaw in determination. ‘I’m Pandora,’ she breathes, ‘And I’m going to help you.’ She talks so softly it doesn’t hurt his ears. The part of his mind that isn’t floating between consciousnesses admires her for wanting to help him. But she is small and delicate and he spends all his hours moving, swimming, hunting, ripping terrible things to pieces with a body as adept and strong as his will. She will be unable to help him. But she doesn’t do what he expects her to. Taking a deep breath, she steps back and begins to chant softly. It’s not a dark, eerie chant, but it’s light and primitive and dangerously powerful. The Sanghenfil feels the ocean breeze spray salt against his back and into his nostrils. The gulls screech louder and the air around him seems to constrict. For a moment, nothing changes. And then the water begins to seep in around his belly. The Sanghenfil gasps into the ragged air as it pools into every painful crevice of his body, flowing into every cut and gash in his flanks, healing, stinging. The salt in the water makes the pain unbearable and he can’t help the groan that escapes him. Between pangs as the water rises, he only has moments to ask; how is this possible? He glimpses her small form on the beach one last time, smiling, as the water washes over his head and he is swept out to sea. She brought the water to him. She’s a water mage; one of very few, living in the high, windy and very waterless peaks of a windclan. He wants her. |
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Exalting Sanghenfil to the service of the Windsinger 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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