Pelagius

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XXXXXX PELAGIUS forgotten glory of the old days XXXXXX Pelagius doesn't remember much of his past. He's always been a warrior, he knows that much. Remembers the raging battles over every scrap of land connecting the shifting Expanse to the surrounding flights. Fire, water, light. Enemies. Sometime the fiends came from lands even further away. Wind, Plague, Shadow, Nature.... it didn't really matter. The different faces all merged together. He'd been exalted to live for the Stormcatcher and him only. Until one day, he was called to speak to his majesty. ....had he really just been ordered to... build a new life? His majesty had told him that... he needed his qualifications elsewhere. To join a female in building a new clan. Protect her and its inhabitants. Pelagius was confused, but followed his orders. Nothing else would ever be accepted. This would be just like what he'd always done, simply on a smaller scale. But he didn't quite expect what a chore leading a clan could be. Potema was a reasonable enough dragon to spend your time around. She was a former exaltee, just like him. But her heart was too soft for the battlefield, and thus she'd been ordered to use her time and energy for producing new workers and soldiers instead. That was something this hardened warrior could understand.

Their clan grew quickly in the beginning - though even as it slowed down, he was not any less satisfied with their work. They had cleared enough space to send many proud dragons to work for his majesty. A fate worthy of some envy, in his eyes - returning to the battlefield one day would be a great honour. But it was not his time yet, and so he instead invested his time to prepare any future exaltees for combat.

But it seemed that his happiness wasn't meant to last long. It wasn't because Potema decided that that strange artist from water was a more suitable mate for her, or because he found his charge in a wispy dragon from the windsinger's domain.

It was rather because of the hostility his clan had started to experience, coming from nowhere else than what he considered their own allies - the surrounding lightning clans had begun to loathe them. Pelagius did not understand this hostility. Perhaps they were jealous of their rapid growth? But what was the point, really? They were all working towards a common goal, after all. There should be nothing on their mind but the advancement of the flight's strength and the fulfillment of their duties as subordinates of his majesty the Stormcatcher.

October 29th '14, flight change to wind: With that mindset, the attacks took him by surprise. Vyrthur and Iizkaal, the two protegées of his that had long surpassed him, had no chance against the onslaught of attacks. The night was a haze - he barely remembered leaving their old home behind, his torn wings barely carrying him, but Marina urged him on. She knew where safety was. In her old home. The twisting Crescendo awaited them.

Marina took care of his wounds for him, cleaned them on the daily and was careful to wrap them up so that they could heal. But they never really did as his spirit succumbed to his broken mind. How could his own people betray him so? He'd protected them for centuries, and now his wings were torn beyond repair. He'd never be able to fly again, wind's doctors told him. What a cruel fate, trapped like this while in the territory of dragons that valued nothing more than the freedom their wings gave them. In order to hide from him, he let his own instincts kick back in. His claws dug deep into the cliffside by the storm, making a home for his people. His bones ached and his wounds bled, but he had a purpose like this. Even long after the place was big enough to accomodate everyone that had managed to flee with them.

The only dragon that could now get him out of this daze was his charge. Marina had always had a gentle heart, one he could not quite understand. It confused him, but she was good for him. Silenced the noise in his head to keep fighting. To get back to work. Her touches allowed him to rest and sleep at night, to close his eyes and not see the talons of countless dragons tear at him.

What he did not realise was that during this time, the clan slowly relieved him of his position as leader. His spirit was as broken as his body, how could he possibly lead them? He wasn't even trying. Kept on digging.

In his absence, the Clan shifted to a more liberal government. One in which every dragon was part of the machine somehow, but was free to pick their spot. "Many leaves, one tree" - such was the motto of their new leader.

During our time in wind, Pelagius would not let anyone near him, save for Marina. She was his sole solace from having been expelled from lightning. At least he had not lost his charge. And she had not lost faith in him. He'd continue, for her. Even though he barely noticed the changes and shifts his clan went through, and his old muscles ached, he never gave up. The new doctor that joined them even managed to save what was left of his wings - a shame really, they were only dead weight to him by now. He used them to dig instead, having gotten quite adept at using them as a second set of arms.

August 29th '15, switch to earth:
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