Mist

***
[WIP]

Mist always felt unseen. His parents sacred first, Grape, even though he had perished, was still celebrated. Periwinkle was a successful healer under the guidance of Moon, and it was near impossible to miss the glances and soft smiles he shared with Marble.

His younger and only sister, Heather, was so confident and prideful, she always seemed to know exactly what she wanted and what she was doing. The youngest of them all, Lavi, was the quickest of them all to find his calling along with April, becoming the resident tricksters and merry makers of the clan.

And then there was Mist. poor, pathetic Mist. In a desperate attempt to stand out to his parents, he declared himself a 'Mage' and dove head first into spell books he couldn't begin to understand. Dusk might have been able to help him, but Mist felt he needed to do it all alone in order to truly prove himself. It didn't help that Dusk was a grouchy fellow.

Over time, Mist did begin to understand the strange language of magic. He wasn't a master at it by any means, and for the life of him couldn't understand why the used old, long dead languages in modern times. Still, he didn't need to fully understand it in order to do magic, right?

Still, Mist believed that his parents eyes never fell on him, always looking at, praising, everyone else, anyone else.

Frustrated, the Guardian moved away from the main lair to the smaller, cozier Starwood Base. He said it was to 'find himself', but truly, he wanted not to find his own person, but something that would finally allow his parents to see that he deserved their affection.

He talked to every trader and traveler in the Starwood Strand, but there was nothing good enough. He would have to go out of his home territory if he wanted to find anything actually good.

Wind was full of a bunch of loopy dreamers, and while they had a very large and diverse market, it was nothing more than silly trinkets and good luck charms. Pathetic. While he did have respectable family in Water territory, most natives were so opposed with finding their lost deity. As if just searching for him, or something to bring him back would be good enough. Who would be foolish enough to try something like that?

Finally, finally, in Shadow territory, Mist found something truly worth his time. A small, one-of-a-kind spellbook, mostly filled with spells made by Shaodw dragons. It was an amazing deal, and it was perfect.

By the time Mist returned home, the Night of the Nocturnes was upon Sorneith, and he knew what he was going to do.