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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.39 m
Wingspan
3.66 m
Weight
626 kg
Genetics
Fire
Cherub
Cherub
Beige
Butterfly
Butterfly
Latte
Basic
Basic
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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___________________Procel___________________
Secret Keeper
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Another night in the Hidden Haven, and yet another thief. His name was Dheosin -- "Dheosin the Daring!" he liked to chortle, while his comrades snorted at him. His superiors didn't like it, either, but his skill could not be denied. For he was indeed daring, often accepting -- and pulling off -- heists the other guild members could never handle. So when his superiors received a request concerning the Hidden Haven, they had called in Dheosin. The dashing Skydancer had heard of the Hidden Haven; its library in particular was infamous. "No one ever returns intact from the library, eh?" he had murmured. "Then let me be the first!" And off he'd gone. His guildmates had watched him depart with a mix of excitement and dread. And now... It took many months for Dheosin to actually gain entry to the library. He passed himself off as yet another wandering scholar in search of a particular tome. But he was patient. He was earnest. And above all, he was credible. Eventually, he was allowed into the library. He followed the Greybeak Reaper down the winding tunnels and presented himself to the librarian, a Fae named Deregh. Deregh smiled gently, looked at him for a moment, and then bustled off. He fetched the book Dheosin had requested and pressed it into the Skydancer's hands. Dheosin thanked him kindly. Deregh left him behind, and he settled down to read, poring over the pages. Dheosin knew that he couldn't immediately ask for the book he needed. He didn't even know what it looked like. But he had been told, "You will know it when you see it." For he had been given a purported fragment of it. A piece of vellum, about the size of his palm. Thick, strangely cool and dry. Almost silky to the touch. Faded letters had been written on it. They were in a language he didn't recognize. It might have been because the ink had bled into the vellum, but it seemed that every time he looked at it, he felt dizzy and lightheaded -- almost as if, at any second, he might float away from his body.... He was looking at the vellum now, and he tore his gaze from it. He rose from the table and began looking through the shelves. He had been at this for about five minutes when Deregh came fluttering back, clearly agitated by the noise. Dheosin looked at him, abashed. "I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I was looking for another book, and I did not want to trouble you. Here...Have you got this one?" He showed a list specially prepared for this event, a list of harmless tomes to distract Deregh. The librarian twitched his tail and pointed, quite emphatically, at another bank of shelves. "I shall need to be more careful," Dheosin thought as he walked over to the shelf. This set another tedious pattern for him: He would enter the library, choose one of the "safe" books, and begin reading. When he was sure Deregh was distracted, he would look through the shelves again. He frequently took out the vellum piece to compare it with the other books, and he hated doing that. The letters continued to blur and swim; his head spun when he looked at them. Furthermore, the library was always quiet...Too quiet. Deregh made almost no sound as he moved about the place, and Dheosin had to be careful lest the Fae catch him red-handed. The would-be thief always listened carefully, but he grew to hate that, too. The heavy silence played tricks on his brain. He thought he heard whispers, distant chants. Sometimes, disturbingly, he thought he heard someone giggling at him. Dheosin was not skittish by nature, but he'd been here too long already. This oppressive darkness, this musty, shadowy library...He couldn't stay here. He wanted to go back out into the light. So he began searching faster...faster...faster.... There were whispers now, he was certain of that. They seemed to be urging him on. He wanted to drown them out, but he couldn't make much noise, or else Deregh would hear him....He searched faster...faster...fas-- His fingers closed over the spine of a book, and he pulled it from its shelf. It flopped open, as if of its own accord, in his hand. In his other forepaw, he held the vellum. It matched the pages of this book exactly. This book was written in the common tongue, but as Dheosin flipped through it, his red eyes picked out those strange glyphs....Scattered here and there, inserted into pictures or in the middle of sentences. He was sure that the writer had not intentionally drawn the glyphs -- or if they had, they had not seen them again upon rereading the book. No one had -- until now. "But why are the glyphs separated?" he asked himself. On his sample, the glyphs were all strung together, not scattered haphazardly over many different pages. Maybe they were in the correct order...or maybe not. His skin started to prickle. "There could be more of them -- more of these books. Did they say there was only one? I can't remember; it's been so long....I should have listened. Why didn't I listen?" He no longer heard the whispers. But there was that urgent voice in his mind-- "I could leave with this book. I could make sure...But no. I'm Dheosin the Daring. I never back out of a mission. And if I'm wrong, if there's more than one book, they'll make me come back here. I'll have to start over. More reading...more searching...more silence. I can't have that. Can't...have...that..." Even as he thought, he moved down the aisle, his forepaws pressing feverishly against the spines of the books. The vellum and the first one he'd found lay together on the floor. They were joined by other books. Books of parchment, books of vellum. Scrolls. Maps. All of them with that same pale, bleached-bone color, that same silky softness. All of them marked by those alien glyphs that made Dheosin's head spin. And whispering, whispering...always whispering. And then he picked up a book, and the whispering stopped. For the first time in many minutes, Dheosin looked around the library with wide red eyes. It was dark -- but so peaceful. So quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary. So he didn't hesitate as he walked back to the pile of books and added the one he'd just found. It fell open as he did so -- and stopped in mid-air. Dheosin stared in horror. The glyphs, those accursed dark glyphs -- they oozed out between the pages of the books, peeled themselves off the paper. They climbed up through the empty air, slowly twining around each other. Stretching out, becoming thinner...blending with the darkness. A deeper shadow, a tide of ink, waiting to swallow him whole-- --from the inside out. Dheosin the Daring met his end there, on the floor of the Hidden Haven Library. His scarlet eyes turned white as the life was dragged from his body. His invisible soul contorted, howling in silent agony, and the books on the shelves trembled in fear. His soul was extinguished like an ant being crushed. The force of it tore his body apart, and it slumped to pieces upon the floor. But no blood flowed from it. Instead, tendrils of dark smoke crept upwards. They briefly twisted into glyph-like shapes before becoming amorphous and then slithering back into the body. The eyes remained open, white and staring. And then the lips, quite suddenly, pulled back in a wide, sharp smile. ~ ~ ~ The library was empty when Akihiko entered, but he didn't mind that. Deregh was away on business sometimes. And that other scholar, the one who'd been by recently, well, he could probably be trusted. He'd been here for nearly a year and hadn't done anything rash, after all. Unlike some others... Akihiko found the book he was looking for and settled down to read. It wasn't long before he felt eyes on him and then looked up -- and the scholar was there, peering around a shelf. Akihiko could see his pale eyes shining in the gloom. He didn't like the scholar, but Deregh wasn't around....It was best to help visitors before they did anything stupid. "What?" he snapped. "You need something? What're you looking at me for?" The scholar crept out from behind the shelf, his smile unwavering, his red cloak billowing behind him. His limp fingers and toes brushed over the floor -- and as he spread his arms, they broke away from his body, attached by trembling wisps of smoke. His mouth remained open, slack-jawed, and he just kept on smiling, his sharp teeth click-clacking together as he spoke.... Akihiko backed away, gurgling in fright. But he failed to drown out the voice of the red Skydancer. "Pretty little prince of fire..." The Skydancer's neck lengthened and twisted horribly, like a spring. "Burn yourself upon a pyre...." The glaucous eyes leered into Akihiko's own. Upside-down, mere inches away, reflecting the pyromaniac's frightened face. With a shriek of pure fear, Akihiko catapulted himself out of his chair. He fled down the tunnels, screaming in fright, his claws scrabbling on the stone floor. The other clan members, including Deregh, were alerted by the noise. They converged on the library, searching for the entity that had terrified Akihiko so. It did not show itself to them. They found a pile of books on the floor. The books themselves seemed unharmed, and Deregh shook his head disapprovingly before returning them to their shelves. They searched for the scholar, but they found neither hide nor hair of him. Yet other things remain. Traces. Tales...Another night in the Hidden Haven, and yet another thief. A Mirror, sent to steal a book, and botching her protective enchantments so that she gets lost in the tunnels. She successfully evades Deregh -- only to run into someone else. A red Skydancer, shrouded in an ornate red cloak. His eyes are pale, his smile too wide. As she watches, he draws nearer, seeming to glide over the tunnel floor. "Pretty peeking dragon pilfering piles of pungent paper," he purrs, his eyes unblinking. "What shadowy secrets do ye seek?" It doesn't matter whether they answer or not -- a scream of terror, and then there is nothing more for them to say. Elsewhere in the tunnels, Deregh hears, and he shakes his little head. It looks like the library has another protector. It seems to be quite effective at what it does. He just wishes it weren't so noisy. ~ ~ ~ There are secrets in the Hidden Haven library. They are nothing compared to the secrets lurking among the stars. Secrets here, secrets there, secrets woven into the very material of the world. Those who attempt to steal the library's secrets lose their minds. Those who attempt to steal the heavens' secrets lose far more than that: their shape, for starters, and a great deal of their power. Such beings deserve death. But they cannot die. They are too powerful for that. Instead, they are banished, hurled down from their celestial abodes. Their shapes are torn apart, transmogrified, scattered here and there. In stone idols, for example, or ominously gleaming gems. Or the pages of ancient books... Elsewhere in the Hidden Haven, the crows are restless. They have been recently fed, so they cannot be hungry. Anpiel frowns at them. And then a dragon enters the aviary, and he smiles. A red Skydancer. A scarlet cloak. His white eyes shine with unholy light. Anpiel has seen it before. Sometimes it shines above his own head. He approaches the red Skydancer and strikes up a conversation. It's like meeting an old friend. After all, they both hail from the same place -- a celestial land with ineffable secrets, jealously guarded by the very stars. ~by Disillusionist (254672)
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