FarashaSilver » Lair » Hidragyia

Hidragyia

(#35520209)

Faewild Magister

Familiar

Runeback Slink

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

25.74 m

Wingspan

20.87 m

Weight

7475.61 kg

Genetics

Shadow
Petals

Mist
Butterfly

Antique
Firefly

Hatchday

Aug 29, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Shade
Shadow

Offspring

Biography

HIDRAGYIA

Taleweaver • Bard • Faeling
_____________________

CHANGELING CHILD

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, and treacherous to wander. Hidragyia was too young to know not to follow when something called her, and too trusting to know not to tell them her name when she came upon them, shimmering bright against the leaves. They seemed tiny and unthreatening until one sideways step, a slip-slide into a place just left of Sonrieth.

Wise dragons know not to trust the Good Folk, the laughing people of the woods. They are not dragons, though they might appear so. And - though they might appear so - they are not kind. Hidragyia was young and trusting. She ate the food and drank the sweet berry juice she was given. It made her dizzy and faint, and then she began to forget; first how she had come there, then the way home, then even where and who home was.

There were others, when she first came. Other dragons like her, children maybe, she couldn't tell. Everything was so confusing, full of color and magic all the time. The laughs started to sound less kind, and the eyes of the beings that looked like dragons began to look on Hidragyia with something strange and frightening in their depths. The others vanished - or perhaps they had never been there at all. Hidragyia forgot, and forgot, and forgot.

Hidragyia remembered one thing, and it proved her saving grace. Hidragyia remembered how to sing - and not just sing, how to weave stories with her voice. In the world of the Fae, her stories took on their own life. Colors and shapes of light swam around her as she sang, and her captors were fascinated. As they danced through the wilds, ate and drank and snatched unwary children, they loved to listen to Hidragyia sing. But every time she sang, the magic of making the story real stole it from her memory. The very thing that had kept Hidragyia safe, unlike the other changeling children, had now put her in danger - because the Fae did not like hearing the same story twice.

She had started at the court, from what she could tell - her memory was so full of holes - but at some point she believed she had been bought by one of the Folk, traded for with a cask of fine berry wine on the condition she would be allowed to sing for the others whenever they wanted. And so she sang, as much as she was able, and drank the strange potion this Faerie who looked like a dragon fed her, which made her magic feel strange and alive, like a bag of eels in her stomach. And at last, one day, as she lay delirious and sick in the Faewild, something changed.

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

The voices swam around against Hidragyia's brain, like something oozing in through her ears. She tried to shake her head, but even that motion was too much. She'd been sick, so sick since she started drinking that thing the Faerie gave her. She didn't know his name, she thought. Maybe he'd told her, but she didn't think so. She remembered - maybe - that she shouldn't have told them her name, and he wouldn't have told her his.

The voices. They were saying something important, coming from the Fae circled around her. She couldn't place the voices with the faces, like they were all ventriloquists speaking from each other's mouths. She thought she'd been the one speaking, a story-song that had come alive in her mind as soon as she saw the Fae who'd come to hear a story.

"It's the same one as before," one of them hissed, menacing. A pair of eyes glinted bright like foxfire.

"It's a trick," growled another, and the voice sounded like sandpaper on glass, sending shudders up Hidragyia's spine.

She tried again.

I sing of a fally-oh dilly-oh maid,
and her bonny lad Hollyhock-hey-

It was a crisp little nonsense tune, something that swam along in the back of her mind like a babbling brook, chattering its way through the rocks.

"The same! The same! You try to cheat us!"

"It's not a cheat." This last voice was clearer than the others. Hidragyia thought she knew it... maybe. Yes, yes she did - the Faerie who'd bought her, who'd given her the potion.

"Did I sing it wrong?" she tried to say, and managed two words out of the three. Why wouldn't her mind work?

"You sang it BEFORE!" the voices roared at her, and Hidragyia buried her head beneath her wings with a frightened cry. She didn't know this song, she wasn't singing it from memory. The words formed in her head as she drew the breath to make them, like magic.

"It's a broken contract," one of the voices said, chilly and cruel. "We'll certainly report this to the Queen."

The voices faded. Hidragyia peeked through her wings, though her vision swam with strange colors and she wasn't certain if she was waking or sleeping - but that wasn't unusual. She always felt like that these days.

"You have to go."

This time, Hidragyia recognized the voice. It was him after all, and when she blinked her eyes fast, she could see the sharp-toothed, heat-shimmer overlay of his real shape over the top of the dragon he'd always come to her as.

"I don't know where," she said. If the Queen was going to be angry with her, she couldn't go to Court, and that was the only other place Hidragyia knew, except for a far-off dream.

The Faerie shape flickering inside the illusion of dragon skin leaned in close, nearly nose to nose with her. Hidragyia shivered again, and trembled, and began to back away as the hidden-away teeth behind that illusion began to become terrifyingly real.

"It doesn't matter, girl," he said to her, teeth upon teeth multiplying in his mouth. "Run with your dreams at your heels, and you'll always find your way back. Now run, little dragon... Run!"

His mouth opened wider than it ever should have, rows upon rows of teeth that seemed to bend and shimmer in the light-

Hidragyia ran.

WANDERING BARD

Somehow, in her half-delirious state - or perhaps as the Faerie had said, because she was allowing her mind to sleep and her dreams to guide her - Hidragyia fell sideways back into Sonrieth. But with her memories stolen from her by the magic of the Fae, she was alone and unprepared for dealing with other dragons.

Her name, she kept a closely guarded secret. She had no memory of her home clan or her family, or even the region where she was born. She had no memory of this place, green and windswept, where she found herself now. She had no treasure and no way of making something of herself in the world. Not except for her songs.

It took Hidragyia months of hungry scrapping and aimless wandering before she took the chance of singing again. Her voice trembled, but as it always had, her magic wove the story through her. The little caravan she'd played for was enraptured, each of them excitedly telling her how they could picture the tale in their minds as she told it. For Hidragyia, who could remember the tale after she'd finished weaving it for the first time in years, it was a new beginning.

Hidragyia couldn't say whether she was once again letting her dreams guide her feet when she came on the Archive and the strange little dragon who presided over it. Hidragyia had come to learn that there were dragons called fae who were not Fae at all, but being confronted with one demanding that she tell a story brought a frission of apprehension to Hidragyia that she hadn't felt since the Faewild. It was only after she had told it - after she could still remember it - that she could trust this little Clanmother Absinthe was not simply another illusion, the manifestation of a nightmare. And it was there in the Archive she stayed, when the next morning that same Clanmother came to her, crests flicking excitedly, asking to hear it again.

Now, she could finally believe she was safe. Now, she could make this strange Archive and the eccentric band of dragons within it into something like a home. And now, perhaps, she would stop hearing the faint whistle of panpipes on the breeze, and cease spotting the glimmer of something bright and eerie out of the corner of her eye.

Art assets from Poisonedpaper here.

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Exalting Hidragyia to the service of the Windsinger 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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