Rakesh

Name: Rakesh
Pronouns: he/they
Mate: None
Personality: sorrowful, quiet, loyal, protective, self-loathing
Occupation: Gardener
Charge: Fate (male harpy) (dead)

Rakesh lived the normal life of a young Guardian. He hatched, he grew under the wings of his parents whom he loved and they loved back. And soon, he grew up into an adult.

"I'm going on my Search now," he soon said. "I'll find a worthy charge and defend them with my life."

And so they went. They wondered, as they walked, just who or what their charge would be. Someone important, he decided. Someone worthy.

One can only imagine his surprise when he found a harpy clan. His first instinct, like any dragon, would be to destroy the potential threat. As he watched from the shadows in silence, trying to formulate a plan to take such a force on his own, he spotted a creature he'd only heard whispers about: a male harpy.

As he saw this harpy poring over documents as he spoke in a tongue he didn't know, Rakesh felt it in his heart. This was it. His charge. He thought the experience would be exhilarating and amazing, but he instead felt throbs of terror and grief running in his veins.

A harpy. One of the beastclans. An enemy of dragons.

Slowly, they made a plan. They observed the clan from afar, taking in their traditions, murmuring their words until they sounded right. They learned their territory and stayed there. Defended it, even. When he could, they would spy on the harpies and make sure their charge was alright, even if he didn't know of their existence yet. One day, they were confident in the words coming off their tongue.

"Tomorrow," they told themself, "I will introduce myself."

It did not come to pass.

Like most dragons, Rakesh needed to sleep. They had a makeshift den until they could approach the harpies and be honest with them, in hopes they'd allow them to stay. It was far from the lair, but just close enough to be alerted if something happened.

Close enough to be awoken by the screams of harpies.

Quickly, he ran through the territory and barrelled into the lair. Without taking time to assess the situation, he threw himself in front of the invading pack of Mirrors. He roared and flared his wings, lightning crackling from his mouth as he demanded they leave his charge. The Mirrors, perplexed and frightened by the display of protection, fled immediately.

The harpies, however, were just as confused. They watched the giant dragon turn to face them all, his eyes falling on the wounded male who looked to be on death's door. The Guardian looked upset, then he bowed his head to the harpies. He stumbled over his words, but introduced himself as properly as he knew, even if a few gawked.

There was no time to build trust. The harpies were wary, but allowed him to stay by the male's side. He introduced himself as Fate as he rested, voice strained.

Rakesh spoke his first proper sentence in the tongue of the harpies: "Your name is lovely."

Fate smiled. "Rakesh... is nice, too," he rasped. "I didn't know I was being protected so long. Thank you." He tentatively reached out one hand, and Rakesh slowly let him hold onto one talon. It was all Fate had the strength to do as he whispered, "I just wish... I could... understand..."

Fate's hand fell back to the bed.

No more words had to be spoken between the harpies and the Guardian. They knew Fate was gone, killed by the encroaching dragons.

Rakesh did not speak to the others. He stood in a silent bedside vigil alongside all the girls. The air was tense. The leader approached him. The sadness was only for the loss of Fate. Rakesh's mourning was curious to her, but she had no time for sympathies.

"You must leave," she said. "I am... sure you understand."

And so Rakesh did.