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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.65 m
Wingspan
5.36 m
Weight
702.75 kg
Genetics
Ice
Iridescent
Iridescent
Pistachio
Butterfly
Butterfly
Spruce
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
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". . . " ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ The night is clear, stars twinkling in the sky above an icy tundra. A lone Skydancer waltzes in silence across the frozen ground. His breath should leave puffs of condensation in the air, but perhaps he isn’t breathing at all. He leaves no footprints in his wake. Ghost-like, the dragon dances towards one of the clans perched high within the Fortress of Ends. His ethereal voice pierces the air with a cold clear echo that reverberates across the ice. Perhaps there were guards, but they’ve fallen into a deep sleep along with everyone else in this clan. Few can resist the fairy’s lullaby. He leaves with exactly what he came for; a slumbering hatchling tucked securely beneath one of his wings. When they awake, the clan will remember nothing. They will think that the foreign hatchling in their nest is one of their own. Recollections of their stolen hatchling will fade from their minds like the memory of a dream. They call Aesop the ‘child thief’. It’s fitting, he supposes and not many remember the children that he steals away just as his own mortal family no longer remember him. Aesop was born to a small clan in the Zephyr Steppes; his bright green eyes alight with curiosity and a craving for adventure. He now has no memories of the skies filled with colorful kites and balloons or the sound of the gusting winds that swept across the Windsinger’s plateau. His mind contains no recollections of his brother, his parents, his family. No. The first thing that Aesop remembers is the dance. “Dance for me” the voice echoes through his mind. “Yes, my lord” The fairy’s dance is not as much of a dance as it is an instinct. Aesop takes the first step and his mind goes blank, his body moving on its own. It’s an ancient dance that ties Aesop to the being who stole him away from his family ages ago. The Skydancer curls his elegant wings as he glides across a thin sheet of ice, pivoting and twirling on his claws. He finishes in a bow to his king, his pale green eyes cast towards the ground in submission. Whatever the fairy king wishes is Aesop's command. Aesop doesn’t remember what happened before Oberon bound him. He’ll never know that the fairy king wanted him for a servant long before he knew that Oberon existed. With a twirl of his claw against the young dragon’s scales, Oberon left his mark. “What’s that?” Aesop's brother had asked him one day after a mysterious mark appeared at the base of his neck. He shrugged and resumed painting the kite he and his brother were making together. He didn’t think much of the unusual mark. At least not at first. “What’s that?” his brother asked him the next day. “Wha- you asked me that yesterday” he told his sibling. “No I didn’t” his brother laughed “I’ve never seen that mark before”. As time passed, everyone seemed to forget more and more about Aesop. If he ordered goods, merchants would forget his order the moment he was out of sight. Even Aesop's family slowly forgot him. He awoke to a crash one night. “Who are you!?” his brother screamed at Aesop. “How did you get into our lair!?” His parents snarled and slashed at the young Skydancer until he was forced to retreat from his home. He tried returning to his family multiple times over the following days only to be chased away as an intruder. Aesop attempted to make friends, but everyone he met would forget him the instant they looked away. Everyone except for a shimmering Imperial who came to sit beside him on a grassy knoll. Aesop's vision was blurred with tears. “What’s wrong, little one?” the Imperial spoke. Aesop wouldn’t bother answering. The dragon would only forget him the moment he was out of sight. The Imperial handed him a handkerchief to wipe his tears before vanishing into thin air. The next day, the Imperial returned. “Still crying, are we?” he spoke kindly. Aesop whipped his head towards the Imperial in shock. “Yo-you remember me?” “Of course” the dragon spoke with a smile. “You seem sad. Would you like me to teach you a dance?” Aesop found that the Imperial was called Oberon and he returned each day to teach the Skydancer how to dance. Aesop learned and mastered dances from across Sorneith under Oberon's instruction. The larger dragon watched him with a smile. “Here” Oberon said one day as he handed Aesop a vial of opaque liquid that shimmered silver in the sunlight. “Wha-“ Aesop began before the Imperial cut him off. “Drink it. I have a special dance to show you today”. Aesop trusted the Imperial and quickly swallowed the liquid. It tasted disturbingly metallic and burned slightly as it slid down his throat. He coughed a few times and something suddenly felt off. He was vaguely aware of Oberon speaking; showing him something. Was it a dance? He could feel his body begin to move almost on its own and he felt light headed. Everything was burning. Aesop finished the dance and he could hear Oberon clapping. It sounded so far away. His body was on fire and he let out a pathetic whimper as he collapsed onto the ground. His vision blurred and darkened as he fell into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was something whispering inside his head. “Mine”. Aesop awoke alone in an unfamiliar lair. He still felt dizzy and disorientated, but he called out for the Imperial. “Good, you’re awake.” Aesop winced as the voice radiated through his head before Oberon appeared in front of him. Aesop found out quickly that Oberon could speak to him through some kind of telepathic link no matter how far he ventured from the other dragon. He also found out that Oberon was not a dragon at all and neither was Aesop. Not anymore. “Will you dance for me, Aesop?” the Imperial spoke. The Skydancer coughed, still tired and nauseous. “Ah, sorry I’m no-“ Oberon snarled and gave him a look of disapproval as Aesop's discomfort rapidly morphed into agony. He screamed in pain as he collapsed onto the ground, his form twisting and writhing to escape from the sensations that tore through his body. Aesop was barely aware of the warm tears that streaked down his cheeks. “Please” he cried out. “Please make it stop!” The fairy king stared at him, an unamused expression on his face before he spoke with a snarl. “Dance.” The fairies welcomed Aesop and he felt at home among them. Despite the repercussions for disobeying Oberon’s commands, none of the fairies forgot Aesop the moment he was out of sight. He was a fairy himself now, bound to the king through his blood. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. That’s what Aesop thought until the orders came to begin plucking hatchlings from other clan's nests during the night. “What will we do with them” he questioned as he passed a sleeping hatchling to the king. “They’re for the demons. You didn’t think our powers came from nowhere, did you?” Oberon responded indifferently. After that, Aesop slowly became numb. He knew that the hatchlings were sacrifices and he constantly belittled himself for not standing up to Oberon. He tried once and only managed a few angry words before the king shook his head disapprovingly and the Skydancer collapsed in agony on the ground. Nobody else would even remember Aesop because of Oberon’s curse. No matter how hard he tried to resist, he always came crawling back to the king’s feet. In a sick and twisted way, Aesop slowly came to enjoy his servitude. He looked forward to venturing out and stealing hatchlings from their sleeping parents. He replaced them with fairy hatchlings and nobody ever realized the difference. Sometimes, Aesop would return to a clan and laugh as he watched the fairy hatchlings fit in perfectly with their adoptive parents. They weren't even aware that their own offspring were missing. Aesop was doing just this one day when an angry voice sounded from behind him. “Hey! I recognize you! What were you doing here the other night?” He turned to see another Skydancer glaring at him. Aesop's eyes widened in shock. “You. You remember me?” He stared awestruck at the other dragon who seemed unamused. “Don’t avert the question!” “I was just. . passing through?” he responded and the other dragon laughed. “Wow, you’re a terrible liar. But I like you.” The dragon made Aesop smile. It wasn’t the twisted and cruel smile that he often had plastered across his face. This was genuine and warm. Before he knew it, Aesop was crying in front of the other Skydancer. Pixie. She was called Pixie and Aesop couldn’t get her out of his mind. She remembered him every time he returned to visit her, but he never dared allow her to visit his home. He also tried to keep her a secret from Oberon. “Spending a lot of time in the Southern Icefields, aren’t we Aesop”. Of course the king knew, but he had an amused look on his face. It didn’t appear to bother him that Aesop had a secret lover. In fact, he joked about it often. Sometimes, however, his words were laced with a threat. “Just remember who you serve, Aesop. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt. . . Or perhaps there’s someone else whose safety you’re worried about”. |
I N V E N T O R Y
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