Lacuna
(#3213584)
The Seer
Familiar
Storm Seeker
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 12/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Pearlcatcher
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.25 m
Wingspan
5.94 m
Weight
522.9 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Midnight
Shimmer
Shimmer
Midnight
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
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Lacuna
{luh - kyoo - nuh} noun 1. a gap or space, esp in a book or manuscript. 2. (Biology) a cavity or depression, such as any of the spaces in the matrix of bone.
---T H E S E E R---
Member of the Night Guard "Pity not the sightless; pity the blind." Strengths: Inquisitive and determined. A tenacious problem-solver. Flaws: Prideful and vain about her intellect, is consequently secretive and uncooperative. Likes: The smell of ink, gaining knowledge, being left alone. Hates: Uninteresting company, being told she's wrong. Hoards: Pixies. Fun Fact: Lacuna is frighteningly good at Runestones of the Arcanist. She rarely has to turn over a tile twice. Theme |
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"It is an absence,” murmurs the dark Pearlcatcher thoughtfully, her voice a low purr. “As though some vital part has been scratched out, or blotted over with ink.”
It is hypnotic, Ego observes. Her voice. The stately dragon, seated on his haunches across from her, feels a chill creep down his straight spine at her words. At the same time, he wonders how her sightless eyes -- milky white, and luminous against her midnight hide -- can appear to be watching him. The tip of his tail twitches at the sensation, but his features might have been carved from marble for the agitation they show. He needn’t bother himself with such niceties for his blind caller, if he is confident of her blindness, but stoicism is is way. A habit. As is also his habit, Ego tilts his head with a question before he poses it, but he almost forgets to speak when the she-dragon precisely mirrors his movement.
Ego blinks. “How…?” he begins after a breath, his golden eyes roaming warily away from the she-dragon’s pale ones, then dipping down to the sliver of a smile pulling at her mouth. His tail jumps again, but he stills it. “How then,” he says, probing whatever depths exist beyond the pale film, “Did you create this abyss?”
Smiling still, the the she-dragon straightens her chin, and then she tells him.
Though born into the noble Light flight and apprenticed to its magical masters shortly thereafter, Lacuna was pulled towards the darker end of the magical spectrum at a tender age; towards the Shadow flight and all its mysteries. Whilst studying the magic of her own flight, the budding hatchling tried so very hard to be content with the knowledge she gleaned in the shelter of the mighty sundial, but always a niggling tug, a whisper of curiosity, would turn her golden eyes towards the mysterious bramble of the Tangled Wood. In her quietest moments, she wondered how might feel to weave shadow instead of light. Would it be thicker? Denser, like moving through water? Would it be cold? Was it even possible for a dragon to work magic in the opposite element? These innocent whispers blossomed into a fervent desire under the glare of Lacuna’s thirst, one which the talented and inquisitive young dragoness threw her whole being into satiating. None of her masters knew the answers, nor could she find them in any texts, though she flew to the farthest reaches of the realm in search of the most ancient scrolls. She came to the conclusion, after exhausting every resource and taxing her brilliant mind to the point of fatigue, that no one knew the answers because they hadn’t yet been discovered. No one, she decided, had ever tried to find them.
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Plagued by the unsolved riddle and armed only with her knowledge, Lacuna waited for the night of a new moon and plunged into the shifting Tangled Wood, without even the light of stars to mark her path through the bramble. Through her research she had found fragments and inklings of an idea that would -- she was certain -- allow her to touch an element she’d only ever been able to watch from her lofty homeland. It was dangerous, she knew, to wander the Shadowlings’ domain alone at night, to say nothing of tampering with their magic, but her curiosity dulled her foreboding. She traveled with single-minded swiftness and arrived, unmolested, at the edge of the Shadowbinder’s lair; the Forum of the Obscured Crescent. |
Lacuna dared not enter the heart of the fortress, nor even to try, but instead set to work piecing together her spell around the wisps of magic that lingered about the defiled place. It was a chimera of a spell, clumsy and cracked even after months of careful thought and labor, but it was effective. The hex liquified the Light within the apostate dragoness and drained it away through her eyes, where the element of a dragon manifests naturally. She chanted in a twisting weave of tongues, weeping golden tears into a pool at her feet, and called to the tendrils of Shadow around her so that they might come to her without hindrance.
And they came.
In a howling rush they swept down on her -- onto her, into her -- and filled the space left by the Light with the very blackest darkness, like ink poured into a crystal glass. They overwhelmed her, the shadows; cloaked her mind in oblivion, oozed from her pores and between her scales, and twined like thorned ivy into her very soul. The black tide did not stem until every crevice of the unwitting host had been filled with darkness, and then Lacuna woke instinctually with the dawn. She found herself curled into a tight and painful coil, drenched in cold Shadow, and stripped of her eyesight by the curse she had created. When a gaggle of curious Shadowlings discovered her weary form outside their mistress’ lair they chased her away, recognizing some wrongness about what they’d thought at first to be one of their kin.
The shadows which now served her acted in stead of her ruined eyes, leading her to her home to the Lightweaver’s domain, but there too she was met with wariness and sent away. Caught between elements, a shade drifting in an unnatural limbo, Lacuna sought refuge in a place which had a reputation for harboring the abnormal and the lost, and which by name alone sounded fitting for a freak such as herself: Paradox Ridge. She was welcomed in by the residents of the strange clan that dwelt there, though regarded warily by all but Qua; the clan leader’s kindhearted mate. After the stranger had been fed and Qua had poured her every effort into healing the dazed, broken waif, Lacuna rested for three days, not waking until the sun had begun to sink into the third night.
And then, for the sake of pacifying Paradox Ridge’s near-frantic gaggle of whisperers, and for that of his own curiosity, Ego went to visit her in the guest’s chamber and asked for her story.
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“You retained no magic whatsoever?” Ego asks simply -- gently for him -- when the dragoness’ story is finished. She dips her head in response, and to Ego’s relief shuts her eyes in a long blink. It is the first time during the visit that she has done so. “None,” is all she says. Ego nods in return, his golden gaze thoughtful and distant. She had not sounded displeased. Time slides by in silence, enough that he hesitates before continuing, fearing the dragoness has fallen asleep. “And your sight...” he ventures quietly, though more confidently when she does not startle. “It is also completely --?” “Gone.” The dragoness had not opened her eyes, had not moved since closing them save to lift an edge of her mouth in that enigmatic not-smile. Ego’s tail twitches and he tips his head; a question poised between his teeth, but it dissolves into the air when she pointedly flicks her tail around her paws and tilts her snout in his direction. Her eyes open, and Ego struggles not to gape in the face of their hypnotic not-depths -- and not for the sake of politeness. |
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“I destroyed my eyes with that spell,” she murmurs, as though in answer to Ego’s unspoken question, “I cannot see.” Before Ego can form another question, the dragoness’ smile inches wider and baffles his efforts. “However,” she sighs, “In losing my sight, I gained intimacy with the world of shadows. They show me things. When they shift, I feel it.”
“I thought you said shadows didn’t feel like anything,” Ego interjects, finding his tongue at last. “That they were an absence.”
“Is not knowing a page has been torn out of a book still knowledge?” she asks, unperturbed by the interruption. “It is a token knowledge,” she continues, her smile wavering, “Almost useless, compared to what you might have learned from the missing page. But it is a knowledge nonetheless.” The smile blooms full again, and the dragoness’ eyes seem to light from within in a ghostly glow. “Shadow is absence,” she admits, Ego cannot help but think, with a note of satisfaction in her voice, “But that does not mean that it is nothing.”
coded by Pique, who does not own the images used. If you drew something on this page, let me know so I can credit you!
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Exalting Lacuna to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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