Barrdwing » Hibernal Den » Aurelia

Aurelia

(#27165446)

Level 1 Snapper

Familiar

Voltspire Intruder

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.84 m

Wingspan

2.08 m

Weight

6133.22 kg

Genetics

Midnight
Iridescent

Midnight
Shimmer

Orca
Smoke

Hatchday

Sep 23, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Snapper

Eye Type

Shadow
Common

Level 1 Snapper

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Spike
Luna

Offspring

Biography

AURELIA
Forestguard

Sometimes things just fall into place, like pebbles settling into a hollow in the floor.

Sleep is not for Snappers, of course, and the long night hours generally drove her out of the lair and into the woods. Other dragons might call them dark, but to a dragon of the Shadow they were merely twilight. Here she could walk all night without disturbing her clanmates, a stolid, heavy-footed ghost shape amid the silvery starlight filtering through leaves and branches.

On one of her patrols, during a summer night restless and frantic with a fast-passing storm, she paused, nostrils twitching at an unexpected smell in the humid air. Smoke. More curious than alarmed, she broke into a trot, following the elusive teasing wisps up-slope. They wove thicker and thicker, stinging her eyes, until she burst forth onto the hill’s stony crown and skidded to a halt.

It was the Aun Tree, lightning-struck yet again where it stood in stubborn, high-reaching solitude. The tree’s native magics were already rising from its roots, quelling the snapping, sparkling flames that marked where the bolt had lanced from the tallest branch to the earth. She spared a snort of exasperation for having run so far, so fast, for nothing. Then her squinting eyes registered the orange glow shining upward against the tree.

The Aun Tree would protect itself. It had no care, however, for the thick straggle of grasses and small shrubs clinging to the thin soil of the hilltop; better, in fact, if all that burned away. Burning leaves drifted down from the big tree as if deliberately sent into vegetation dry and brittle from the summer’s heat and scarcely dampened by the brief storm. Much of the grass on this side of the tree was already well alight. Little tongues of flame blossomed in a drift of dry leaves even as she watched, and yearned toward the trees at the edge of the clearing.

There was no time to go for help. There was no time for anything except to act. Raising her chin, she aimed a defiant bellow in the direction of the lair, hoping that the nightwatch might hear and investigate. Then she stormed forward, broad feet crushing the burning grasses.

When the deputation from the nightwatch arrived, cursing creatively and with a sleepy-eyed Water mage in tow, they found the crown of the hill ringed by blackened, trampled, nearly bare soil. Against the sullen, fluttering glow of a burning bush raged a broad form, alternately pounding the crackling, popping embers at her feet and sweeping the fragmented bits of vegetation inward towards the Aun Tree with careful snaps of her short wings.

After that, defeat came swiftly for the fire. The Water mage summoned great shimmering blobs of water from the air, dropping them without ceremony onto the worst of the flames. One of the nightwatch, a young Guardian, set to digging the firebreak wider with more enthusiasm than art, showering the struggling fire and his comrades with dirt and pebbles. By the time the nightwatch-senior pronounced the threat neutralized, every dragon on the hill wore a coating of mud and grime. But the forest beyond the clearing was safe. Not one tree had caught.

“You did well,” the nightwatch-senior rumbled, pausing before her and dipping his frilled and bearded head in salute.

She nodded back, feeling exhaustion settle over her now that the battle was over. The urge to walk had subsided; now she longed for a bath.

To her surprise, the Water mage remained by her side when the nightwatch took to the air. “You smell tired,” she said kindly. “I will walk home with you.”

******

The next day, she overheard the young Guardian talking to two of his friends.

“... And she attacked the fire by herself. Alone!”

“That little thing?” The other Guardian’s tone oozed disbelief, ending on a grunt as the first slammed his tail against her rump.

“That little thing had it contained by the time we came in,” he snarled. “Crushed it with her feet! Look--the smoke marks are still on her.”

She kept walking as if she hadn’t heard, but her nostrils pinched in the effort not to laugh. Smoke marks? She’d been hatched with those marks.

“They are,” the third said reflectively. “Must be the Aun Tree’s magic.”

The silly little speculative rumor spread. Even the few dragons who had known her before merely nodded, saying nothing. Before long she was being referred to as “firekiller” and “forestguard”. One morning, the nightwatch-senior stopped by her lair.

“If not for you and your night patrols, the forest would have caught fire,” he stated. “You found it and stopped it. I’d like to know if we may add you to our rolls.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I am not a warrior.”

“You could have fooled me,” the Guardian retorted dryly. “But all I ask is that you continue your patrols ... and carry a scrying mirror, so that you can call us out at need.” His cheek frills twitched in what served his kind for a smile. “I’ve long thought that we should pay more attention outside the lair at night, but couldn’t find a dragon suited to the job.”

So she continued to walk out of the lair each night, while behind her dragons yawned and murmured sleepily. But now and then they murmured to her as well, as she passed: “Good patrolling tonight, Forestguard.”

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Exalting Aurelia 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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