Disillusionist » Lair » Ashes

Ashes

(#31549106)

Level 10 Guardian

Familiar

Octavious Colossusbane

Energy: 46/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

18.84 m

Wingspan

18.83 m

Weight

7684.29 kg

Genetics

Coal
Crystal

White
Facet

White
Runes

Hatchday

Mar 15, 2017
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Guardian

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 10 Guardian

EXP: 1005 / 27676

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

NOT FOR SALE, TRADE, OR LENDING

Ashes
Nickname: Ash
Scavenger's Bodyguard
& Assistant
♦ purchased from
Here Be Dragons

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮
From Dust to Dust
(written by Disillusionist)
╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯

What drives a Guardian to Search for—and locate—their Charge? Some scholars posit that it’s an instinct unique to the breed, although others maintain that the dragons are driven by supernatural forces. Magic, they say, or fate—there are plenty of miraculous stories about Guardians discovering their Charge, enough so that the notion of supernatural forces is taken quite seriously.

Most Guardians start their Search when they reach adulthood. But not Ashes. Shortly after tumbling out of her egg, she opened her eyes and took in her clan. It was a bustling, prosperous place, but something about it did not sit well with her. She knew she did not belong here.

She was named for the dry, burnt-out color of her scales. Nonetheless, she burned—with fearlessness and obstinacy, her pale eyes shining bright. She burned with the need to go away, not to explore, but to Search, to look for and discover her Charge.

Her family found it cute at first, and that was their undoing. Before they had time to properly understand that nothing would stop her, she had already left, vanishing into the smoke that surrounded the Blacksand Annex. She was on her way, driven by a force she did not yet fully comprehend. In time, she would find her Charge....

But where was she...he...it...or them? Many Guardians had asked these questions, often while teetering on the brink of despair. Sometimes the Search just turned into never-ending toil. So perhaps it was a mercy Ashes was still so young. She had not yet had the time to build up the dread and weariness that weakened older Guardians’ hearts.

It’s said that the deities watch over their children, even wayward ones who run away from home. How else to explain the luck that befell this headstrong but ignorant hatchling? A week after she left her clan, she found herself on the border of Fire and Lightning. Black smoke pumped out from the furnaces of the Firelands, mingling with the pale dust of the Shifting Expanse. It coated Ashes’ scales, turning her nearly invisible. Still, something saw her. She heard the beat of wings overhead.

The other dragon did not land in front of her. Instead, it—she—landed some distance away. She bustled through the spinifex and cacti, picking at spindly things that thrust out of the ground. Bits of discarded machinery...trash and bones. From time to time she shivered her wings, sending clouds of dust down her sides. Her hide, underneath, was unevenly-blotched beige and gray.

She eventually stopped in front of Ashes. Her eyes, as she looked down, were the same tired, pale blue. Icelander’s eyes. “Child,” she began, her voice as soft as drifting snow, “you’re a long way from home.”

The Guardian had been alone for some days now and had not met other dragons within that time. Young as she was, she had nearly forgotten how to speak.

The Skydancer was unfazed. “This land is no place for a hatchling—here, where there’s so much ash and smoke it feels as though it might strangle you any second. I am a scavenger, child.” —This last one was said in response to Ashes’ skeptical glare. “Don’t give me that look.”

A scavenger. That was why she had come all this way, picking despondently at the discards and dirt. Ashes, however, was not frowning because of this. She was frowning because she’d thought, for a second, that her Search was at an end.

It wasn’t...but maybe she was getting there. This Skydancer didn’t feel like the right one, but she certainly felt less wrong than the home that had been left behind. “It’s a sign,” Ashes realized, somehow. Perhaps she was being guided...perhaps it was just luck. But either way, she was headed in the right direction.

She stepped forward, pressed against the Skydancer’s leg. The older dragon was mildly surprised. “You want to go with me?”

Ashes looked up at her, placid and unafraid. The Skydancer couldn’t help smiling wryly back. “Well, I suppose anywhere is better than here. You’ll choke on all this gunk otherwise. Hmm...” She bent down and, with an easy, practiced motion, lifted Ashes in her forepaws. A crease appeared beside her orb as she frowned. “Not too heavy. I think we’ll manage just fine.”

And that was how Ashes came to live with the Disillusionists. The rest of the clan was very surprised when their Lead Scavenger returned with a foundling, but they agreed that it was a lot better than leaving her in the desert. They were also quite a chatty bunch, and soon Ashes rediscovered her powers of speech. She remained disinclined to talk, though. She tended to stay close to the Skydancer, Yulalie, and frequently accompanied her on scavenging runs.

She grew to adulthood in the clan. It was not long before she became too large for Yulalie to lift, and soon she was serving as the Lead Scavenger’s bodyguard, accompanying her on trips farther and farther afield, to places where most other scavengers dared not go. These places were avoided not because they were dangerous—rather, they were sad, desolate places where only garbage went. Scraps of metal and wood, glass shards, worn-out trinkets...Once, these objects had all been loved. Now they were left there, exposed to the elements, free for anyone to pick over.

Yulalie would spend hours at a time in these places, sifting carefully through the refuse. At first Ashes thought she was picky, and then she realized, ”She is looking for something.” Something very specific that was very dear to her...

Another dragon might have been curious, might have dared to ask the Skydancer what it was all about. But Ashes understood, and so she did not need to ask. She, too, was still on her Search—combing patiently through even the most neglected parts of the world, waiting for that object or being that she would devote the rest of her existence to.

And so, rather than standing idly by while Yulalie picked through the trash heaps, Ashes helped out—sort of. She would sweep the wreckage aside with her tail and peer at it with her sharp eyes. Some of these lost objects had names on them: places of manufacture or previous owners. None of them struck the right chord in her, the jangling note that told her she had found her ultimate prize. Searching and searching, day after day after day...

Ashes didn’t despair as the days passed, for each day that went by brought her closer to her Charge. It wasn’t something she hoped was true—it was something that she knew. And eventually, that day arrived....

Dawn was only a few hours away. Yulalie had flown to the Shifting Expanse again and was sifting through the ground in the wake of a sandstorm. She tossed the grains up with her paws, beat them with her wings. They swirled to the earth in glittering dust as the moon sank down behind her. Ashes turned away.

And then the Guardian frowned. The sandstorm had wiped the desert smooth, and among the dunes, barely visible in the light of the moon, was a low, dark shape. It was rough...blocky. Some kind of structure? Her heart began to hammer inside her chest. It echoed urgently against her ears.

She left Yulalie, who was still dancing in the sand. Across the gleaming dunes she went, crossing the distance on foot, till she was standing in front of the object. It looked like the entrance to a larger structure, which was still mostly buried underground. The stones of it had been worn almost smooth; it was difficult to tell if the marks on it were dragonmade or the result of erosion.

There was a door— more like a rectangular hole, really, just wide enough to fit her, if she didn’t mind a bit of a squeeze. What lay beyond was darkness.

“Come,” it seemed to tell her, a whisper from the dark. “Step inside....”

She had no way of telling what she would find, but neither was she afraid. She looked back....Yulalie had not yet noticed she was gone. Perhaps it would not take long. She could be back before she was missed.

She took a step forward, into the darkness.

The moonlight from outside soon vanished. Ashes was not afraid of the dark, however; and besides, soon the walls began shining. That wasn't unusual, for many dragons imbued their buildings with such spells. By that faint light, Ashes could make out faint carvings and glints deep within the rock....

Something odd: it wasn't the rock that was shining, after all. Ashes looked down, and she saw that her paws were sparkling with cloudy white light. That wasn't unusual either -- she had had these markings for some time now. They were not always visible, though she had noticed that they appeared only in the presence of strong magic.

Magic...Someone was here. Her frills quivered, and she turned, staring down the corridor.

Was there light up ahead? Perhaps her eyes were having trouble adjusting....No, wait, there was. And something more -- a voice. Suddenly Ashes' frills stood straight up as if electrified. Brilliant white light crackled through her skin.

She'd never heard that voice before, she was sure. Yet something about it nagged at her, a feeling of intense familiarity. There could only be one explanation: it was the voice of her Charge.

continued»

Credits & Notes:
• Coding and dividers made by me.

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