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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.58 m
Wingspan
6.03 m
Weight
528.9 kg
Genetics
Caribbean
Crystal
Crystal
Caribbean
Facet
Facet
Caribbean
Spines
Spines
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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Alatar
Ice || Protector of Dragons Means: "to worship, sacrifice, or honor" "noble, great one" Hoards: 
Special Apparel: 
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Mated to: Pallando
Daughter: Iris
 Companions: 
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IN THE BEGINNING
Darkness. Darkness and nothing and COLD. So cold. No creature should be so cold. And yet... and yet. He breathes for the first time, and the void before him blows into his lungs, granting him freedom, giving him life. He can see but the darkness is so complete that all he senses is the great silence that is his creator. It puffs its icy, cutting breath on his face, his chest, his paws, and everywhere the cold touches, he can feel his skin hardening, tugging, solidifying- he is BECOMING, becoming what? When the pain finally ends, he hears a voice, and the voice only says one thing: "Alatar. Go. Guard my people. When you are done, you will come back to me. You are my creation and my child. Take with you my blessing, and go." And he rose, stable on his new, frozen legs, and went forth from that place that he would seek for years afterward and never find again. Alatar, the crystal giant, the blue star, the protector, the defender. He is given so many names over the years that he ceases to know himself as any of them. He thinks of himself as empty, and powerless, and unwanted, and when he prays to the Icewarden, the only deity he's ever believed existed, prays in his own crooked, broken way, he asks for his true name, for the past he's forgotten and for a future he can enjoy. But he knows nothing but this vast emptiness inside of himself, and does not know what joy is, or sorrow, or love or hate, but he thinks he might be able to guess how loss feels, yes, loss is easy- loss was the way the light glittered on his skin when he stepped from the place of his birth - his CREATION - never to return. Yes, that must be how loss felt, the sudden warmth and the brightness where once just dark had been. This clan he protects, they think he is a dragon. He does not correct them. He can hardly make himself understood as it is. When he speaks, his language is cryptic and structured in riddles, and it's infuriating just trying to ask where to find water. He bears through the confusion that both he and his listeners feel by adopting a smirk he's seen young dragon males wearing, one that says that they are acting the way they are on purpose, that this trouble is meaningful, this error is no fault at all, certainly not of his, it's your own fault for not understanding, and he goes on his way feeling dirty and relieved. Personality:
Myers-Briggs Type: None
Sexuality: None
Sun Sign: None
Moon Sign: None
Favorite Hobby: None
Likes to Collect: semi-precious stones, blue cloth
Favorite Weather/Time: winter/early morning
Can be seen (location): sitting in clan center
Can be seen (action): muttering and casting minor spells
Dragon Friends: Pallando, Iris
Dragon Enemies: None
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LIFE IN THE CLUSTER OF STARS
He found the clan when he was leaving another, chased out by the hatred that comes from those who are ignorant not understanding and not seeking to understand that which they can't comprehend. He fled and he flew and he fell and he landed in a place where the dragons looked at him curiously but did not spit, or jeer, or shy away in terror when he rambled off to himself, speaking in half-crocked sentences that all made perfect sense to him but just made the eyes of anyone around glaze over.
Upon arriving he was confronted by their leader. How did you find us, we are anonymous, we are hidden, we are SAFE, what are you doing here stranger and Alatar stammered his answers and the leader just shook their head and said since you found us you can stay, but if you leave you can't come back, if you try to leave we'll kill you, you understand and Alatar nodded but he thought he knew the dragon's folly: how do you kill something that isn't even alive? He thought he would kill just to know the answer.
Here, in this clan where anyone was welcome and no one judged him for what he was, but still shrank a little when he walked past, he met her. And you may argue that something that is not alive cannot feel love, but he saw her and like the day he stepped from the cave and thought this is loss, he stopped walking and stared at her and he thought this is love.
She was only a child when she arrived, but he knew in his bones, if he had bones at all, that she was something extraordinary. She was shunned by the other dragons, especially the other hatchlings, who feared her, and so he hid himself from her, so he would not scare her in turn. She must grow up strong or she would never reach the full extent of magic that her mother - her mother, the stamp of her mother's power was written all over the young dragoness's body - possessed.
He watched her grow from a distance. He never spoke to her, never went near her, never looked at her if she happened to be looking his way. And she grew as strong as he'd hoped she would. She sprang up tall and beautiful, if he was any judge of such things, and powerful, perhaps (perhaps) as powerful as her mother. And the way her body moved like it was scarcely confined by her own skin... oh, how Alatar longed.
This was a new emotion for him too: longing. That biting, gnawing hunger that was not satisfied by food or drink, or sleeping or darkness, longing, the desire to speak clearly to someone who would listen and would understand, LONGING-
But no, he could not have that. He had heard the voice in the night that guided him, first to the Cluster of Stars and now not to make himself known to this shape-changing dragon. He heard the voice, and he understood the power and authority behind it, but it had never been kind to him before and, as little as he knew of this dragoness and her past, and what she would grow to be, he sensed that she would be kind to him, and that in his world of blinding light and hard edges, she could be dark and she could be soft.
He dreamed his first dream, and it was of her.
He had his other duties- he was the protector of dragons and dragonkind, and he fought and cast his spells in efforts to defend them all, especially the Cluster and their wards of secrecy. But all in his work, and all in his soul, were still the empty, and the vastness, and the longing, and the loss.
*inspiration for layout: Frostlyn
*bio and story by: @SkyTreader197
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