Chrysanthemum

A normal dragon turned lesser spirit, and a former servant to Queblia. Cold and unresponsive to most dragons. Sometimes he'll respond to his mate, Molsa, though.




They say he was once kindhearted and full of life. Referred to as "The Flower Prince" by some, Chrysanthemum was the pride and joy of his parents, especially his father, Mallow, for his undying enthusiasm and love for all.
Then a long and horrible winter came that wilted his colors and changed him forever leaving him unrecognizable to even the dragons that knew him best. He became cold, bitter, uncaring, just like the snow and ice that had changed him. He values no life above his own, discarding any relationships he once had for solitude.
Not just his attitude, but his magic changed as well. He is know able to conjure ice spells as no one has seen before, and will often use this magic to chase off any being, friend or foe, that threatens his solitude.
Though he cares little about others, this does not stop his former friends from trying to revive the "Flower Prince" they once knew, though he will almost always turn them down. On rare occasions, however, he will be seen keeping close to his mate, Molta, and even nuzzling her from time to time.

---

The snow swirled at a tremendous force, swinging at and knocking down anything in its path. A lone skydancer ducked and flew for cover, only to be knocked back by the snow. It pelted down on him like a thousand tiny daggers, chilling him to the bone. He braced himself against the wind as it hit him at full force. He moaned and fell to the ground, pushed down by a screeching, lashing snow. He dug into the ground, despite to see something green, something living before the snow felled him. With freezing claws, he scooped away the mounds of sleet only to discover brown, dead, wisps of what had had once known of gorgeous flowers and flowing greens.
He lifted his head in grief, and, with shock, realized that the snow had slowed. A snow white coatl stood before him. She peered down at him, a skeptical look in her eyes. She sighed, than spoke in a voice that was gentle, half hum.
So, you are what the north wind brought in. She laughed softly as the skydancer backed away. Don't worry, I won't bite. She lifted her wings and ran the tips along the skydancer's back.
Well dear, it seems you need some protection
He shivered, their touch was oddly calming, almost... numbing. He felt himself relax as the numbness spread through him.
The skydancer looked up to see that the strange Coatl was gone, and the snow had returned to its warring state, and yet he no longer felt cold. He glanced down at the brown patch of dead grass below his claws. He no longer felt grief for the loss of life. He glanced up as a soft voice whispered in his ear.
Go, return to you lair, but know that the winter will always welcome you once more, and the spring will discard you once again.
And so he returned, no longer a flower prince, but a servant of snow.

---

Her flower prince lay near the lair entrance. Molsa watched him wearily. Winter was coming, he would soon disappear as he always did. Out into snow without a trace, only to appear again come spring, even more detached and reserved than before. She glanced down at the herbs she was prepared, trying to take her mind off her mate, but she could not help but worry, as she always did, that he would not return. Not that that would make a difference, she thought. In truth, his mind had been dead for years. He cared nothing for her, for anyone, anything that was not the cold, dead winter.
Eventually she sighed, rose, made her way towards him. As usual, he glared at her as she slid next to him, eventually turning away in disgust as she made it clear she was staying.
And than, he was gone, tore off into the distance, leaving her alone and confused. So, she took off after him, only to lose him completely, to wander in circles until, she gave into frustration and turned back home, a cold wind seemingly laughing at her back.