Geranium

Fun facts about Geranium:

• Will never forgive you if you call her Gerry (Ger-Ger is fine though).
• Technically her dad's Charge, so there is some beef between her and her brother Noche because of that. Grady gives 0 rats' ***** about the situation being the youngest sibling.
• Do not remind her of being born in Wind, I mean it.
• Will hyperfocus on smithing until morning hours then yell at her hands when she realizes how long she stayed up.
• Knows far too much about the evolution and development of a very specific type of regional blacksmithing found in Fire territory (absolute nerd).

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It seemed she was never fit to live the life of a Wind dragon. The breezes of her birthplace that beckoned her to spread her fledgling wings instead felt like foreign gusts against her rough skin. While her sisters and brothers took joy in rolling down the grassy, green slopes of the Windswept Plateau, she would sneak away from the watchful eye of her parents to lie away in peace at the outskirts of the island, thinking of places where she'd rather be.

Geranium's parents once highly revered Windsinger, for they thought they were very fortunate to have been blessed by their deity to live in such a beautiful land- to be allowed to play and roam as they pleased with nothing to endanger them. Although, her heart was set in the right place from the very beginning. Days turned to months as time went by. The winds didn't feel as teasing as before, and the steppes once plentiful with swathes of thriving bamboo were now overcome in a sickening, gray color. The Windsinger appeared to have abandoned them against their wishes. Yet, her parents wanted to believe that was not the case.

They simply went on with life for a while by hiding their fears under a smile and shrugging off any of the clan's suspicions.

Geranium at this point knew attempting to reconcile with the Wind deity was a lost cause. She had lost her hope long before Zinc and Kneon had come to terms with what was happening.

One day she followed her parents in secret to their corridor. Back pressed up to a wall on the other side, she held her breath and waited for one of them to speak up, but not a word was uttered. The wary Guardian felt the coarse grains of sandstone when she shifted to get a better look. Another Guardian and Mirror sat there in sorrow and ruin. They both took a long, wrenching look into each other's eyes. Her mother eventually broke the silence with a shaky sigh on the verge of tears. She dropped her head down. Her thin body suddenly slumped to the floor. Geranium inhaled sharply as she quickly retracted away from sight. She returned to her original position after the coast was clear.

Zinc was carefully cradling Kneon's head in his hands. His glassy eyes shined with an unimaginable pain and longing. Zinc lifted her chin with a claw, barely touching. He looked over Kneon a few times before he turned his head to rest it against the the top of hers.

"We need to go. Staying will kill us. It's killing you now," he mumbled as he bit back a waver in his voice.

"We cannot. We need to wait for Windsinger, please-"

"No. Look what that's done for us. The clankin are only but hides stretched to bones. The flightful creatures of this island are dropping to the earth one by one. The magic has been drained of this place."

"That can't be," Kneon protested, narrowing her eyes.

"It is to be. It is no longer a home. Windsinger is no longer our praised. He left us to rot."

Zinc looked at her in disbelief. He heaved with each breath, and with each gasp, his lungs crackled beneath. He released Kneon and lowered his arms. Zinc backed away then retreated to another room.

As he left, his voice burst from the doorway, "We leave now! I want no arguments. I've had enough of your indecision. If you want to stay, your fate has been decided by you alone."

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Geranium's wide, green eyes peer ceaselessly into the molten metal. Its glow and warmth envelop her small face, and her claws are wrapped around the edge of the container to let her lean in closer.

"Dear ahgmik, not so close to the forge," her father calmly scolds as he scoops her up into his calloused arms.

The young Guardian cries in protest, flailing and beating her wings against her iron armor. Her father's exasperated look bears down on her pouting face. Zinc lifts a claw to place on her darkened nose and flicks off the soot. Geranium sneezes, sending the rest of the ash settled on her into a cloud. Her father lets her slowly slip out of his arms while he hacks and waves away the ash cloud.

Zinc coughs out, "Must you spend the whole trip here? Your mother wanted us to visit the market four hours ago. We are not here just to dilly-dally and treat the smiths like a circus event."

"I don't ever get to go anywhere when we're not home!"

The older Guardian sighs and pinches the bridge of his snout. He closes his eyes for a moment.

"Do you remember what I told you? About why we were here," he says.

"Nuh-uh."

"Then do I need to pick you up and shake the ash out of your ears so you listen better?" he teases, wagging a claw.

"Nuh-uh."

"Ahgmik, one day you'll learn to pay attention, but for now, we're here on important matters. We have to go talk with some of the traders. Where we live now in the Divide leaves us with little to go off of. Establishing a few of those ties now is... Are you falling asleep?"

Geranium's lowered head jolts back up. Her eyes fly open to a face sitting mere inches from hers. Two pale green eyes are sunken into the sides and with darkened scales surrounding them. A brow raises over one of them as a hearty chuckle comes out.

"Dad, cut that out!"

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