Komael

It’s hard to say how a dragon with a lust for blood sprung from a clan of scholars and archaeologists. Some might whisper of Emperors, of tainted spirits, but you’ll pay them no mind if you’re wise. In the Beacon of the Radiant Eye, an heavily built Imperial dragon hatched with his teeth bared and hunger in his eyes. It later transpired that this hunger was for seafood, but Komael grew up different than his peers and even than his sister. His eyes sought not words on a page, but animals hidden in the grass.
Komael was not ostracized, not exactly. His parents tried to ease him away from his desire for the hunt and towards a more peaceful lifestyle. This proved to be fruitless, but he did bring home quite a lot of food from his hunting trips. The other dragons in the clan regarded him with quiet distaste, and he was all too aware of it. But he did not change. He threatened anyone who gave him a sidelong glance with claws and a snarl. After the first injury, the clan of scholars avoided him.
Life in the Beacon was not satisfying. There was little opportunity for hunting and fighting in the quiet clan, and Komael’s claws itched for a challenge. After years of bottling up his want for violence, it overwhelmed his family connection and he left his clan to seek a place for himself somewhere else. His parents and sister were heartbroken, but they understood.
For half a year, Komael wandered the continent looking for a fight. He got in plenty, and gathered a collection of scars that he was very proud of. Getting lost in the thrill of the hunt was his favorite pastime, but he once got truly lost in the Fortress of Ends. He’d been pursuing a small mouse-like creature and not known exactly how far he’d progressed into the spires of hoarfrost. Night fell quickly and the temperature dropped. Komael was unaccustomed to the cold and thrashed around in a fit of mania. The sound of a heavy body hitting the ice echoed through the maze and attracted the attention of a small hunting party from a nearby clan.
The team came running to find Komael dying of hypothermia. Dragging him to their camp with considerable effort, they woke him with magical fire and a disgusting but rejuvenating drink. Once he got his bearings, he was surprised to discover that he’d caught the little creature he’d been hunting. The team praised him for catching such elusive prey, and invited him to accompany them on their hunt and trek back to their clan. He agreed readily, for what else did he have to do?
Hunting in a party was much more fun than hunting alone, he discovered. The cold wind whistled around them and snow piled up, but the team found and killed animals as easily and with as much vigor as if it had been a game. For the first time, Komael felt as if he belonged amongst other dragons.
One of the dragons on the hunt was an Imperial female named Sanga, whose pink eyes had lingered on his quick and bloody dispatch of a vole. She approached him, not at all shy, and asked if he would like to share an elk. He agreed, and they spent the night making cheery conversation. Also among the team was an Imperial male named Kimba, who was quick and diligent. Komael liked him and spent most of the walking and flying time with his two new friends.
When they arrived back at the clan, the leader of the hunting party, Cinaede, asked him bluntly if he wanted to stay and join them. He’d never been in a place that felt more like home, so he accepted.
He found himself becoming closer to Sanga as the months went on and it wasn’t long at all before he decided to ask her to be his mate. She beat him to it, and their ceremony was a celebratory hunt. Now he spends his days going on long hunts with his mate and his friends and getting in the occasional fight, which is exactly what he wants.

Lore by HannahofInternet