Adhara

▸ Gender: Female ▸ Orientation: Asexual heteroromantic ▸ Homeland: Sea of a Thousand Currents

Tidelord Seashell Decoration Trinkets A decorative trinket resembling the Tidelord. It is comprised of seashells and bits of coral. One can hear hundreds of faint whispers when holding it close. 105

▸ Birthplace: Mariawa Empire ▸ Element: Water ▸ Profession: Mage / Seer

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A lady from the Mariawa Empire, weak in health, strong in spirit. She once had a twin named Aquarius but when the court announced their assignments, she was sent to Dragonhome while he was sent to the Southern Icefields. Brave and kind, Adhara serves as the chancellor and leader of Clan Maserift. Though deeply loyal to her friends and family, her stubbornness and grudge against the Empire has left her at odds with her siblings.

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Israphel Adhara's father. Originally a noble Imperial, he was disgraced and banished after Adhara left Mariawa. Before his eviction, the Mariawa emperor cursed him with the body of a mirror dragon, never to regain his true form. It is, in Adhara's opinion, a pity but no great loss on her part. Waterlily Adhara's eldest sibling. Before coming to Maserift, Waterlily had been sent to a clan in the Southern Icefields. The two were reunited after Adhara wrote to Waterlily, having seen her in a vision, and asked her to join her in Dragonhome. Their relationship is affable but distant. Altair Halloran Adhara's youngest full brother. A proud scholar warrior of the Mariawa Empire, Altair loyally served the emperor most of his life. Stationed in the Tangled Wood, he fought numerous battles with a company of mages at his command. He is sourly critical of Adhara for going renegade and desperately seeks to return to the empire -but with both of his sisters alongside him.

Nabe Adhara's mother. From what Adhara remembers, her mother was a distant figure always preoccupied with the household and planning for more children. After her mate's banishment, Nabe retired from court life. From time to time, rumors in the Imperial-dominated court surface of scandalous affairs with lower ranking dragon breeds. Aquarius Adhara's older twin brother. They were extremely close in childhood but after the court gave them their assignments, they were parted. Aquarius was sent to the Southern Icefields, where his already poor health failed completely. His death shook her deeply and reinforced her decision to never have children. Melchior Halloran Adhara's son. Melchior was originally born in the clan of Oakrest. Though they share no blood, there are no secrets between the two of them. Having decided never to birth children herself, Adhara adopted Melchior as her heir. In turn, he proudly bears her chosen name and has passed it onto his children.

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They learned to sit like dolls when they were young and their bones still were deceptively as fragile as those of other children. This, they were told, would stave off some of the strain that their bodies would one day -soon- feel. It had been learned through trial and error, by the lives and crooked bodies of the many siblings before them. Each one had been perfect at some point in time. Each was irrevocably flawed now and had been so since birth. But that was (not) a different time. Things would (never) be different now (ever).

In the court of the Mariawa Emperor, Adhara was born to an aristocratic union both horribly admired and greatly reviled for their beautiful, enfeebling illness. She was the younger of a set of twins perceived as lucky for having both a male and a female, a left and a right. Many of their siblings had already been sent away to far-away lairs where they would serve as advisers (statues) or perhaps even mates (trophies) to clan heads. That this too would be the twins' fate was never up for question. As children of the Thousand Currents, such a thing could not have been hidden. Nobody tried.

Within the winding corridors of Spiral Keep, the twins sought out the mysteries of divination but only as far as their teachers would allow. For the sake of perfection, every step had to be strictly governed, least they meet the fates of those siblings who pushed their bodies too far. Bit by bit, they heard stories of this sister who had lost herself in her visions and starved, of that one who had been found dead face-down in her scrying bowl, that brother who had gone mad when fever and over-work had burnt his brain. It was here among the mutters of oracles that they began to truly feel burden of illness and fear.

Self-preservation came first. Awkward around familial ties and too used to being good children, the twins separated from each other with the ease of unfamiliarity. Whatever had happened in those distant spheres, Adhara never learned what her twin had done there. She, however, let her interest in her studies dry up, taking up her tools of magic with indifference, even annoyance as illness swung her from good days and bad days without warning. This was one of many elements attempting to devour her life but diminishing its role only made her realize just how little there was for her, just how much was beyond her reach.

The ladies of the court came to her with their stories of illness, of fantastic princesses ailed but only made more good and pitiable and attractive by their disease. For a while, she dared to dream that she was like them instead of the ugly, crippled untouchables that had been glossed over. However, the romanticism died soon, somewhere between the second and third day when nothing in her stomach would stay down.

None of those fair-weather well-wishers would come around then and she came to hate it all -her and their combined hypocrisy. These marks that her peers lauded were signs of disease and perpetuated imperfection. Imperfection that was desired and so different from leper's scars or pockmarks -but were they really? They were not birthed for health or long life, only for their markings. Who would wish that upon their children? And there had been so many of them already! They were easy to replace.

Adhara was stubborn. Adhara was angry. She smashed her distant sphere wide open and trampled her way to her brother's side, intent on fighting (!) anybody who tried to force her back to her own room. What she found was an open door, stacks of bowls, and a very sick Imperial gesturing to the open space across from him. "I saw you coming," he said with a wheeze. She was touched until he added, "Also, you were being loud."

They recovered as best as their poor health could. They fell ill, again and again in the same manner that their elders had. Adhara learned to read fortunes in the stray currents that other dragons created in their haste while her twin fought for snatches of the future in windows and mirrors. Each bout of sickness brought them time to compare what they had learned, to pause in their fervent pursuit of usefulness as the number of their siblings at court grew smaller and smaller.

She was bothered, once, by the discovery that she was the weaker of the pair before her worry shifted to a different factor. The fact that she could not see him in her currents was unacceptable. He had never failed to find her in his crystals. The disparity seemed unjust but she forced the fear down. She could be happy for him instead. They were not merely two companion dolls, it dawned on her. They were siblings, blood and magic bonded, and she loved him.

Later, Adhara would recall her decision with guilt-ridden relief. For all that their lives had been centered on such a single-minded purpose, they had both managed to forget that it would mean the end of their lives together.

Their sovereign was the one to issue the news as the twins stared at each other in disbelief. One to the Southern Icefields! The other to Dragonhome! They were to be separated by the world, never to meet again. For the first time, Adhara looked fearfully to her parents for help. But her silent plea ghosted passed them and they were like strangers to her. Their approval was swift and final.

Her brother leaned down and breathed in her ear. For a moment, it was impossible to not be calmed by his presence. "Of all the gods, the Earthshaker alone understands what it means to lose a sibling." His reassurance was bitter but soothing. She would have a life up on the earth, perhaps even a good one.

But Adhara thought for a moment and her fear for him grew. "The Icewarden was one of the first to leave," she muttered back to him, trying to convey in that one sentence the entirety of her sorrow and love. Her brother was silent then. They were not easily parted.

At night, her dreams slipped onto a darkly marvelous expanse of ice, the features of the horizon faded with foreboding. Her wings were pulled down by a frigid wind that forced her to bend her head down for little refuge against the dead sea. There were fish captured in motion under the surface, undisturbed and unmoving. She breathed out a scraping mist that broke through to the sea life, turning them into dragons. All of this was shown to her with a clarity that she had already lost in real life.

She slept soundly.

In the morning, her twin prepared for his ascent to the surface. She would wait a month or so more because it would be improper for the younger to arrive before the older. Together for the last time, they watched the streaks of early morning sunlight paint the waters of their youth. He nudged her, she blinked at him, and suddenly his glasses were lopsided on her face and she could see the sunlight as clearly as her dream.

"You should wear those," he told her, dismissing her protests by doning a spare. "I would have found a pair for you eventually but I suppose we ran out of time."

What exactly could she say to that? She fixed them as she had always seen him do, the frames digging uncomfortably into her face. Their tutors at court had never let her wear them before; squinting was unladylike but being able to gaze dreamily out from half-lidded eyes was attractive and so full of nonsense that she would have laughed herself sick if the sudden realization of what they had done was not so distressing.

"I'll give them back." The words surprised a laugh out of him and she was glad because it was better than tears. An hour later, she met him at the gates of their home. They shared a hug and then he was gone.

When Adhara herself left home at last, she did so under the silent watch of her parents, conscious of the moment when they turned back to the shrieking of young hatchlings. Already, more of their siblings had been brought into the world. Perhaps this was the reason that their older brothers and sisters had always been distant, because their worries were too heavy to let any others into their lives, because they knew that they would feel as she did the moment that she brought the surface to breathe the fresh, salty air. Others would suffer but she was free and glad of it; if she were sad, then that would be the same as losing. With the vague burden of absence, she fixed her slipping glasses for the hundredth time and spread her wings towards the Starfall Isles.



Their guides through the Starwood were fae, dragons so much smaller than her that her that she had to concentrate for a moment to differentiate one from another. They preferred to converse with the smaller dragons of the group but for the most part, they, like her, were loners. At night, the tiny dragons disappeared into the trees, their wings shining in the moonlight like shooting stars before the night consumed them. Perhaps it was simply natural to think first of the dangers of every marvelous place. Knowing of those who were driven mad there, Adhara watched them and thought that perhaps it would not have been awful to live there.

The members of her party changed constantly as they traveled the border between Arcane and Plague, flying some ways and walking the rest. Their rather leisurely pace was set for those pampered, docile nobles unused to traveling such long distances-a group that Adhara now found herself squarely a part of. It was as if the divisions erected between them at court had now all fallen away. While more than one of their group was some sort of official returning home, most were, like her, being expelled to new posts. Even if they were to ever be shuffled back to the Thousand Currents, they would never return home. Thus, expecting to see none of their group again, she was silent and relieved when the others ignored her. As a cool wind blew up from the south, Adhara shivered and wondered if the Icefields were being kind to her twin.

With no sign yet of Dragonhome besides the thin, needle-like shape of the Pillar of the World in the distance, she felt restlessness settle within her. She was disgusted by the rot of the Wandering Contagion and traces of its sinewy claws starting to rip apart the Starwood Strand. She was filled with hopeless gratitude for not being sent to the Wyrmwood, pity for the dragons who were. From the other side of the scarred earth, Adhara dreamed of pestilence and liquid death. In the warm daylight, she turned her head towards a putrid scent which brought her the images of wandering clans and entranced her with the truth that life could be harbored in a place that seemed so strongly to abhor it.

(The same could be said of the sea. For every clan that thrived under the waves, many more were dashed to pieces or swallowed up by hungry currents. Where there was life, so too would there be a suitable breeding ground for disease. In water, this was especially true.)

The calm surety of their journey was unwoven one fateful day. A fae not part of their group fluttered anxiously through their ranks, its speckled coloring blending in the foliage. She watched it on the young breeze shifting through her mane, absentmindedly tracking the petit dragon as it weaved towards their guides. Gleaming faintly, it glided across the back of a guardian's neck and glided across and glided across -Adhara blinked and that was when the cycling vision became reality. Like a leaf on the water, that fae dove into the deep shadows and out of her sight as the current faltered. At the same point, a shrill shriek pierced the air to break her silent resolve of remaining that distant observer.

As an imperial of her size, there was only so much she could do. Surrounded by these smaller and more fragile dragons, Adhara could only watch in mute shock as a red streaked guardian toppled over, one that she knew for certain was not supposed to be thylacine. Three fae and a tundra were crushed beneath him. That cracking sound - she hoped desperately that those had been branches. But out of the five now on the ground, only the tundra was still moving, trying to claw her way out. Adhara recognized her, too. She had been the Charge.

The accusations rang out almost immediately as the court lines suddenly sprang back up all around. A coatl trilled that the two fae behind him had been conspiring against a duke. A pearlcatcher wailed that she would be next. A nearby imperial snorted in response to her claim and found himself in a vicious argument with her kin. The pack of mirrors were circling each other with barely restrained aggression as the dragons around them called out names, numbers, and treasons.

More levelheaded dragons were clearing a space around the fallen and while Adhara was too large to comfortably fit into that space, she did at least sweep her long tail into the tundra's clawing grip. She winced a little as the other dragon tugged not nearly carefully enough but grit her teeth and pulled back with what little strength her body had. It wasn't much but it was enough to slowly inch the tundra out, even if the pain from doing so was white-hot and starting to spread itself through the rest of her.

"Healer?" The tundra asked tightly when she was finally free. Her pink eyes were wide and glassy and Adhara's tail was still firmly in her claws. "Is Malcom-?"

From the guardian's head, a fae called out, "He's dead" and the tundra collapsed as if wounded. Under the fire of panicked voices all around, Adhara made a quiet, dissatisfied sound. She had seen but an imperial was far larger a target than a guardian and she knew from court how easily one could be taken down. Because it was what she had been taught, she became a wallflower again and held her silence.

But afterwards, if she came by that tundra's side and let her lean a little into her arm, well. Such a large dragon could afford to be so clumsy.



It had been too much to hope that their group would hold together, not when they were so far from the empire which had forced them to ally. One by one, Adhara watched as the other dragons fell victim to each other's plots or assassins. The fae she had seen was not the last killer that would come upon them and soon, the their bloody pilgrimage was divided. Some ventured on by themselves; others retreated to the Empire. Adhara pressed on with the dragons who remained, trusting few of them but still safer there than on her own.

All this time, the honeydew colored tundra stayed put in her shadow. They were two unspoken allies, unsure of everything except each other's unwillingness to cause harm. Adhara did not even know her name. In Mariawa, such things were not needed. Only the eldest of every imperial nest had a name and Adhara was the younger child.

She prayed to the water as blood was spilled again. As another of their number vanished into distance alone, she prayed to the wind and lightning for clear skies. It rained. She called her visions cautiously, head high enough that the skies concealed the images reflected in her eyes. On the horizon, she could see both death and safety.

The Tidelord in his winding keep, perhaps, did not hear her clearly. She chose to believe that rather than in the idea of careless cruelty.

Yet the knife came down again and another of their number fell. Adhara kept her distance and became more of a doll within her own skin. Beneath the facade, however, she was like a storm. It stung her to be nothing more than an observer -to be considered so much like furniture, even if the fact kept her safe. She was the largest of the group, yes, but also one of the weakest and most fragile. What might have constituted as strength was stripped away by clumsiness and ill health. It was quickly becoming the story of her life.

That was the entire point, she realized. To be weak where she could be strong instead and delicate rather than rough -it was the fulfillment of Mariawa's aristocratic philosophy. But even as she grasped it, Adhara thought to herself, This will not do. She did what she had never had the courage before to do -she left.

With her tundra ally under wing, Adhara took to the skies again, reveling in newfound freedom. She would go to her assigned clan, eventually, but only to tell them of her refusal. To be that clan leader's trophy was no longer a future she could content herself with, not after seeing how quickly life could be wasted and ended. Perhaps she might have fooled herself for a little while. If the journey had been calm, she might have even been tricked into docile acceptance of her fate. But that was only one future, a dismal one, and she longed to see one brighter.



It was deep in the Focal Point where Adhara and her companion came upon two strange dragons: the ridgeback Aldebaran Morgenstern and her mate, Antares Doran. Silent in their ways, the two communicated in brief rumblings which served to only unnerve the suspicious Mariawans. However, Adhara was tired of being quiet and wary. The silence grated on her like nails and, almost hysterical in her paranoia, thought of how ridiculous it was that these strangers could want harm on them. Surely not.

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