Rosary

I am a dragon of Plague. I always have been, and always will be. I wandered, for years and years, across the world, doing battle with any that would accost me. Sorneith has never been a safe world, and this is especially true in this Age. Beastclan, rival clans, rival Flights - we are all so quick to forget our purpose. To forget why we are here in the first place. The Shade may have been broken, shattered, but it is not dead. Far from it. We have cracked the mirror, and while our dark reflection no longer taunts us, we must contend with what crawls through the gaps.

I wandered, eventually, to the realm of Light. A place of hope and rebirth, the homeland of my breed, the Imperials. The Lightweaver may have created the Pearlcatchers after us, but that does not make her anything other than the beloved progenitor of our species. The Sunbeam Ruins are our home, no matter our Flight, in a way that only those who have made the pilgrimage there can understand. The Sunbeam Ruins are safety, they are comfort, in a world that has so little of either.

It was that comfort that nearly led to my death.

I had found a cave. Small, unoccupied. I curled up and slept, none of my usual wards placed, none of my alarms. The Sunbeam Ruins subtly rejected those with darkness in their hearts, and this knowledge is held dear by all Imperials. But applying terms like "light" or "dark" to the Shade is folly. It is void, the lack of all. To measure the Shade is to measure something that is the opposite of everything, and yet is nothing at all.

I awoke when, with a single swipe, it scratched my eyes out. I roared in pain and terror as it continued to rake at my face. But I refused to give up, refused to believe that I had been abandoned by my god-parent. And it was in that moment, of mixed faith and desperation, that the tug on my heartstrings, that pull towards the center of the Sunbeam Ruins, that pull towards the Lightweaver, became a song played on my very soul. I reared my head back and howled, howled in a way that I did not know I could. A howl like piercing trumpets, like music, a single blessed chord. And the Shade recoiled.

I howled again, a different chord, a triumphant battle march, and it slunk back further, and though my eyes were no longer there, I saw it, I knew exactly what it was. Following a command that came straight from my soul-song, I unfurled my wings, even in the cramped cave. And I saw the Light, the brilliance, the sheer power that radiated from my faith.

In that moment, the Shade screamed in terror, and I knew I had been chosen.

It burned away quickly. It did not even leave ash, for it had no true body of its own. With my newfound sight, born of my undying faith, I turned towards the center of the Sunbeam Ruins... and nodded. I could not go to my god-parent, for if I did, I could not bring myself to leave. I felt her sadness in my soul, but also felt her determination. And so I turned back towards the realm of Plague, and spread my wings. The brilliant light flared again, but not to burn; rather, to embolden. Hope followed where I flew, even in the realm of Shadow where Light is seen as a foe.

I landed at the home of my clan, and my parents rushed to me, saw the gouges in my eyes and snout. They were concerned, I knew. Naught but the strongest survive in Plague. But they saw my horns, saw my wings, and bowed their heads in reverence. I am a Chosen of Light. A bringer of hope, of unquenchable faith and unyielding fervor. This lair remembers its place, its purpose. This lair remembers how to kill the Shade.