StarsAndMoon » Hibernal Den » Chronos

Chronos

(#40039536)

I can't kill you but I can remove you from my here and now.

Familiar

Silver Kitsune

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.74 m

Wingspan

5.59 m

Weight

491.39 kg

Genetics

Black
Skink

Terracotta
Butterfly

Eldritch
Underbelly

Hatchday

Mar 11, 2018
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Skydancer

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 7 Skydancer

EXP: 4803 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

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Chronos

Chronos Cercidas- fandragon.
(Things have been changed from his original incarnation.)

Snapshot: Now on his second go round at life, Chronos is an incredibly sensitive soul, though he hides it under long years and a great deal of pain that have twined together to turn him stoic. After tragedies experienced in his first life, including the loss of his dear friend Zephyr, he is far more world weary than his apparent years account for.
He is also incredibly vulnerable to loss, doing everything he can to stop the dragons around him from from being hurt, and to ensure that Zephyr does not die, again. Relatively quiet, and studious, he tends to keep a great deal to himself.
Background: While enjoying his youth and his life with his close friend Zephyr, Chronos went to sleep one evening. Content, full of a relative zeal for the world. He woke, surprised and heartbroken, to find that Zephyr had been killed.
In his grief, he received a visitation that would prove fortuitous. Offering him a chance to alter what had transpired, to hold some measure of power over Time itself. But it would require the sacrifice of his youthful view on the world, to never again look on it with young eyes.
He would have to live out his life, to the end. And only then would he return to the night where he could save Zephyr’s life. Chronos agreed, wholeheartedly, and spent his days wandering, learning. He even encountered the clan that he would join, in his second life, as he wandered. Though he made no effort to join it then.
By the time his death finally came, he was very ready to see his friend again. When he opened his eyes, he was young again. At least in body. It was little work, and actually somewhat anticlimactic, to get up, quietly go looking for the dragon that had slain Zephyr in his sleep. And end him, on the beach.
Then it was time, of course, to live again. Or to do what he could, always keeping the hourglass that allows him to manipulate time close, and eventually finding his way with Zephyr to their current home with the clan.
Relationships: Chronos’ primary anchoring relationship in both this life and his first, is Zephyr. While he cares a great deal for the other dragons around him, this friendship is what sustains him. What sustained him through living a whole life, so he could return to him. In this go round, Chronos has made sure to use his ability to manipulate time to keep both Zephyr and himself from aging.
Daily Life: Chronos’ days tend to be rather focused. He suffers from visions of past and future events and records them in predictions journals, often struggling not to cry at some of what he learns. A great deal of time is spent on this endeavor, and on doing what he needs to to prevent any harm coming to the clan and those close to him. The rest of the time he spends with Zephyr, or advising Signora, Achren, or Persephone.
Goals: Prevent the clan from coming to harm, keep Zephyr safe.

Vision of the Day (Chronos Narrative)
Chronos woke ready to write, which was hardly unusual. His mind was already full of clashing visuals, disconnected snippets of conversation, some linked, some not, inchoate kernels of potential prophecy.
His visions didn’t always come when he dreamt, but his sleeping mind did make connections his waking mind wouldn’t always so easily link. He was surprisingly graceful as he slid up and out of his nest, he had long years of getting used to this.
More than any around him even knew. And more ahead of him.
Sometimes, he was getting visions that sprange far, now. Hatchlings he’d seen days free of the egg, turn centuries old. He was reassured by the fact that in such visions he often saw himself, and Zephyr, still there. It was working, even if his friend would eventually know what was happening.
Sometimes Chronos wondered if it would come to a point where he talked to the other, about what had transpired, before. It might unburden him. Might be relieving.
On the other hand, it might burden Zephyr.
The dragon put any such ideas from his mind, pushing them away to clear his thoughts, focusing instead on the visions. As he made his way over to his current predictions journal, the stars in the room brightened. They dimmed when he went to sleep, rose with his own activity.
Grasping a quill in a practiced claw, Chronos’ wings fluttered, and he glanced down at the pages for a moment, before beginning to write. His hourglass settled neatly on the table beside him.
The actual transcription of the visions didn’t take very long, all on it’s own. But cross referencing it, cataloging it, pulling out a few other filled journals and making notations. That took time.
It was hours yet, in working, before he forced himself to stop. It was time to eat, if he was going to keep making progress. And today was the day he needed to have a meal in the common area, for a mostly chance meeting with Nocturna.
Neatly, he flipped to the back of his journal, to where he kept the folded pages of his calendars, and checked off the small notation. Suggest alternate route to Nocturna at late breakfast. Avoid crimson rootvine, bad batch.
He actually snorted a little at the last bit, as he smoothed out his clothing, readied himself for leaving his den, and scooped up the hourglass. He didn’t always remind himself of the little things, there were so many far more important things to take note of. To comment on, to steer when he could steer them. Disasters to prevent. Conflicts to avoid.
But every now and then, when he had the time, it was also nice to avoid a bad breakfast, while helping a friend have a much safer journey ahead of her. Chronos left his cave only a little tense, concerned for Nocturna. He was certain he could help her, really, but it was hard to shake the lingering anxiety over it.
At least he didn’t show it, though. He walked to breakfast with his manner steady, expression stoic and focused, prepared to meet the day. To meet every day.

The One's Sacrifice

Once, during a bitter winter, while the North Wind blew and the snow fell upon the Scarred Wasteland to gather in pale red drifts, two dragons together sat in the thicketed hollow that both called home. Even as they lay protected from the gales that rattled at the bare bones, they felt cold's embrace all the same, and so they built a fire to warm their bodies. As for their hearts, they began to tell each other tales of the bright times ahead of them with all the passionate surety of youth.

"Perhaps," Chronos ventured, voice g ay even in the deep chill, "once this spell abets--oh, Plaguebringer, may it abet!--we shall make a journey in order to truly escape this cold."

"Wholeheartedly, I agree," agreed Zephyr, in a tone somewhat more reserved. "However: where, dear friend, shall we go? I hope that thy thoughts do not stray to the Waste, nor to the Expanse."

"Dear friend, thou calls me, and yet thou assume me capable of such stupidity! I was imagining, in fact, the opposite direction: past the Strand, and the Point, and the Reaches; the western edge of the discovered world, where thy namesake blows, gentle and warm."

"Namesake, and not whole likeness?"

"Come now, Zephyr. Thou knows offense I meant not." Despite his words Chronos was smiling.

"Always, dear friend," the other replied. "Now...come! If mine ears are not mistaken, the frost has indeed abated. Shall we be off?"

In mutual agreement, as one the pair spread their wings and began their excursion. While they did not consider the travel difficult, for indeed many trips had occurred out of similar dauntless impulse, the tenuity of the trails they followed ensured its length.

Past the Boneyard they soared, past the Contagion, even past the Wasteland itself; then in the Starfall Isles were the pair, over the bewitching wood, and floating islands, and curving peaks the color of early dawn. Yet throughout all these wonders, apparent in their difference to the blight that was home, both dragons remained fully at ease, laughing and joking with each other until their destination was reached: a lonely spit of pink rock, wider than it was long, jutting out into the deep blue sea.

"Alas, Chronos," Zephyr exclaimed as they alighted on the crystalline shore. "Were thy sweet words but truth, in place of what lies in front of us!" Indeed, it was not a gentleness that met them but heat, thankless and scorching, that rushed into their faces as the South Wind blew.

“Thine own are sweet and sharp both, dear friend,” the other said in reply. “Admittance there must be: I, infallible? Nay. Yet I shall not call my own judgement poor. Here at least, after all, when the warmth becomes too much to bear the cool water shall stay in reach, rather than become extinguished by the gusts. Are both our bones already frail? We are young, Zephyr, and in the flush of youth! Shall we let bellicose Notus win, the bully?”

From these rousing words was Zephyr’s spirit kindled, and for many hours afterwards they lounged and talked of many dear things, and the philia that was already strong between them grew even stronger. Together they prepared their beddings as eventide fell, and as midnight struck they fell into a deep slumber, alone but for each other and the stars.

"Pain is temporary, but it leaves scars behind."

A peaceful sleep until morn did Chronos have; as he awoke, though–alas! Great was the woe he felt as wide eyes took in the stillness of his companion. Still yet in utter shock he attempted to shake the poor drake’s body as if to wake him, but it was of no use: Zephyr was dead.

Where only the day before was chatter and laughter rang now with sorrow and anguish, and the flood of tears that issued from the mourner’s eyes mingled with deep red blood as it ran in a torrent to the sea. Why not? There would be no more memories made together nor places to see, for his dear friend had journeyed somewhere he could not follow.

It was during this morning that one of Time’s shadows happened to pass nearby. Already listless from the thankless task of keeping order in such a deserted part of civilization, the sudden, constant loud sounds drew him close to that part of his domain. In this way he observed Chronos, until he could not hold back his curiosity and asked, “Dragon, why do you weep so? Thy wails can be heard from the end of the sea.”

“Someone close to me has gone, shade. Zephyr was his name, and a true friend he was indeed, until mine own desires delivered him to his death! Would I have not brought him here in a flight of fancy, he would not have passed in such a miserable place, perhaps from the damnable heat.”

“Know thou not why he is dead?”

“Only that I am who is to shoulder the blame.”

“Foolish,” said the shadow, to whose kind all the affairs of mortals seem such. “Why should it be so, when thy claws are unstained? ‘twas another who felled him.”

“Thou possesses such knowledge?” the dragon cried. “Tell who is responsible, then–for but a name, shade, I shall give thee all I possess!”

The shade scoffed. “What need have I for paltry gifts and trinkets? Regardless of my actions besides, nothing can be done for thee or thy friend. Near-gone is the murderer out of my domain. Were you to begin flapping thine wings at this very heartbeat, and fly with all thine strength and skill, thy mission would still be in vain.”

At this, Chronos issued a painful sound, as if he himself was dying, and Time’s shadow found that he could take no more. “Enough with such pitiful noises, dragon! I shall only ask once: is thy wish for justice yet true?”

“Unflinchingly!”

“Then, listen carefully: all I have said is correct. Yet for the continuing briefness he is within my bounds, I am master over foe…and friend. If revenge is what thou wishes, then give my aid I shall. Two chances thou has to wade through the river of Time. In exchange for this power, however, you must be prepare a great sacrifice: to it you must give up thy youth and thy wonder, living through old age before you may return to the moment thou seeks, for even with my gift mortals can move but forward.”

“If that is the price to pay for my fatal recklessness,” the drake replied without hesitation, “then I shall pay it.”

“Then, dragon, ready yourself.” So the shade touched with pitch-black claw the forehead of Chronos, and power flowed through it to him. “Should thy will be stern and thy heart be true, the threads of Time and Space, its companion, hold thee over no dominion. Now: hasten! The one you seek is near-gone from these lands.”

From these urgent words was Chronos’ spirit kindled, and even as he took a deep breath and concentrated on his love for his dear friend the world around him began to unravel and restore, as if by Penelope’s weaving, similarly faithful. Then he was in a place both like and unlike the one he just left, and with purpose he spread his wings and began his years of solitude.

For his whole lifespan he wandered, shunning all idea of home. Many places he did visit and wonders he did see on his travels, and he came into the possession of much knowledge and worldliness. Still, the joy these things brought were but minor trifles; eventually all passion left him, as it does. Happiness and laughter, as he had experienced on that part of the sea, were long lost. Only one thought yet consumed him, as a moth is consumed by flame: never would he forget what he had done, nor what he had to do, even as he lay decrepit and dying, too weak to fly against the dewy East Wind.

For the last time the old dragon closed his eyes, and when Chronos opened them again he was in the place he had left long ago, Zephyr in repose by his side. If he had but still enough self to experience the utterness appropriate! Aged in spirit, however, all he felt was grim duty as he waited for the one he had long been searching for.

Not long was the lull before he heard the flapping of wings and the alighting of someone on the shore. At once the drake sprang up and, filled to the brim with long-suffering courage, began to stalk towards the other. The confrontation of sorts did not last long, however, for the would-be murderer, apparently expecting an easy kill, swiftly departed with the hurried movements of a dragon consumed by fear.

Chronos had saved his friend. Yet as he sat observing the one he had sacrificed much for, from where the spit met the sea, he found not even relief. He no longer believed in it. Instead all he felt was dread, for if something were to happen to Zephyr again he did not have another carefree youth to give Time. Should he attempt what he had done without that protection, he would be no less than destroyed.

“Hark, Chronos,” came a yawn, and he turned around to watch Zephyr rouse. “’tis terribly early, and yet long has thy bed been cold. Have thee wish to watch the dawn?”

“Nay, Zephyr. To tell the simple truth, I could not sleep.”

“Ah…pity, that! At very least thou has a lovely sight to see in exchange.”

He had seen many sunsets much more beautiful than this, and none had been able to move him. Still, as he had no more heart to pretend to agree, neither did he have enough to barb his tongue. “Perhaps.”

From his neck swung an hourglass, heavy with sand.

▪ Resources ▪ Lore by Mystif, Passerinde. Template by Lyka ▪

Chronos Casual Alt

Art by FortKnox.

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Exalting Chronos to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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