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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.97 m
Wingspan
5.35 m
Weight
467.15 kg
Genetics
Vermilion
Skink
Skink
Crimson
Butterfly
Butterfly
Fire
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Wildclaw
Max Level
STR
128
AGI
13
DEF
6
QCK
51
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
6
Biography
༻ I S A I A H ༺
       
he | him
O C C U P A T I O N - Council Member, Battle Party Leader F A M I L Y -  Ennis- Brother of Ekon F A M I L I A R - 
E X T R A -
|
"You are imperfect. permanently and inevitably flawed. And you are beautiful."
⚔ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Born to two highly powerful drakes of the first generation, Isaiah has never been a stranger to power. His mother is a Dreamwalker, skilled in the art of mental fortitude and manipulation. However, while strength of any kind was valued, it was elemental prowess that was truly prized. Isaiah's sire is a Royal- gifted in both charisma and magic- and the highest rung on the clan ladder. It was thus inferred that he, a hatchling from such a prosperous union, would of course inherit the raw spark that ran through his father's veins, or perhaps the iron-tipped mental claws of his mother. He received neither. And of everything the Lightweaver could have given him, she chose empathy. A boon in any other clan, his unusual talent was here a disappointment; not only did he fail to destroy his enemies, he felt for them- understood every feeling that ran through their hearts as they were incinerated. And when he turned away, when he couldn't stand to watch any longer, he felt it. Disgust. From every member in the vicinity, pointed directly at him. Weak. Ugly. Useless. He ignored them. Should have deserted the egg before it hatched. Isaiah turned, stared into the wide eyes of his mother- panic, revulsion, forgotthathecouldunderstand- and broke completely. After the Incident, Isaiah fled. He wandered for days, weeks- eventually finding solace in a far-off Shadow clan. It was small and easily overlooked, but it was endlessly better than going back. It was there that he pushed his demons down, down, down- until the pain and revulsion and utter and complete hate for his body, his mind, his everything- just went away. He became very good at it for the years following, enough so that he didn't realize immediately what was happening when he met a strange, confident drake named Ekon, and fell head over tail. But eventually, as these things are wont to do, those repressed feelings erupted. For the second time in his life, Isaiah lost control- and it took nothing short of his mate to pull him out of it. And, god forbid, start to heal. He learned to laugh again; learned to look in a mirror and not want to destroy what was in it; learned to love himself, so he could finally love someone else. And then the floods came, and took his mate away. This time, Isaiah didn't break, he simply... faded. Lost everything in him that once held light, life, and watched the days pass in a never-ending blur. He was no one. |
Quote:
Isaiah looked up at the setting sun from his perch on the giant yew tree.
It was quiet up here, where no one could find him. Peaceful.
But peace, he realized, was never solid. It was fleeting; like the once-golden leaves on the trees or the birds flying through the air.
He himself was merely temporary- life was never more than a balancing act where one could only stay stationary for a small while.
Dragons, familiars, lairs, they were never permanent. Nothing ever stayed forever.
Mates, his mind whispered, unbidden.
Isaiah looked out against the golden rays, to the gilded trees and birds and landscapes, gorgeous as they were in the sun but breathtaking in their true nature of shadow.
Yet in the past, Isaiah loved the light, even if he found himself unworthy of it. Brilliance in every vision and floating dust mote; beauty in every facet of its existence.
So easy to join in its eternal dance and thrive, to let go of anything your mind and body had weighing upon it and revel in the freedom of the Day.
But now, Isaiah found that he favored the shadow.
Darkness.
A place where he could find silence, and solemnity.
Safe from the harsh whispers and pitying glances, calm from the storm of judgement that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
A place where he could hide, and let no one, not even himself, see what had been made from the broken shards of what he used to be.
Who he used to be, when he was complete.
When the leaves were still golden, and the birds still sung.
When his mate was still alive.
“Isaiah!”
Isaiah flicked his ears towards the sound, turning away from his quiet vigilance to the sky.
The call sounded again, and a small smile, nothing more than a quirk of his maw, overtook his somber features, like a crack forming on a plane of ice.
It was true, that once a life was gone it could not be returned.
But like the leaves in the trees and the birds in the sky, they would continue to grow and be born every year, unfailingly. New leaves would turn green and then golden, new birds would take to the skies and eventually fall.
So was the way of life, ever giving and ever taking.
Like shadow and light, it would continue to wax and wane, regardless of who was born or killed.
But that doesn’t mean that they can't be remembered, Isaiah thought as he spread his wings and dove. Some things, like memory, could be immortal.
And so, as he rode the silent beauty of a world cast in shadow, Isaiah whispered a single word to the wind.
A name. A goodbye. A promise.
”Ekon.”
It was quiet up here, where no one could find him. Peaceful.
But peace, he realized, was never solid. It was fleeting; like the once-golden leaves on the trees or the birds flying through the air.
He himself was merely temporary- life was never more than a balancing act where one could only stay stationary for a small while.
Dragons, familiars, lairs, they were never permanent. Nothing ever stayed forever.
Mates, his mind whispered, unbidden.
Isaiah looked out against the golden rays, to the gilded trees and birds and landscapes, gorgeous as they were in the sun but breathtaking in their true nature of shadow.
Yet in the past, Isaiah loved the light, even if he found himself unworthy of it. Brilliance in every vision and floating dust mote; beauty in every facet of its existence.
So easy to join in its eternal dance and thrive, to let go of anything your mind and body had weighing upon it and revel in the freedom of the Day.
But now, Isaiah found that he favored the shadow.
Darkness.
A place where he could find silence, and solemnity.
Safe from the harsh whispers and pitying glances, calm from the storm of judgement that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
A place where he could hide, and let no one, not even himself, see what had been made from the broken shards of what he used to be.
Who he used to be, when he was complete.
When the leaves were still golden, and the birds still sung.
When his mate was still alive.
“Isaiah!”
Isaiah flicked his ears towards the sound, turning away from his quiet vigilance to the sky.
The call sounded again, and a small smile, nothing more than a quirk of his maw, overtook his somber features, like a crack forming on a plane of ice.
It was true, that once a life was gone it could not be returned.
But like the leaves in the trees and the birds in the sky, they would continue to grow and be born every year, unfailingly. New leaves would turn green and then golden, new birds would take to the skies and eventually fall.
So was the way of life, ever giving and ever taking.
Like shadow and light, it would continue to wax and wane, regardless of who was born or killed.
But that doesn’t mean that they can't be remembered, Isaiah thought as he spread his wings and dove. Some things, like memory, could be immortal.
And so, as he rode the silent beauty of a world cast in shadow, Isaiah whispered a single word to the wind.
A name. A goodbye. A promise.
”Ekon.”
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Meat stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Isaiah to the service of the Gladekeeper 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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