Crisiux

art wrote: Flamescale Venomcaster Familiar If the heat weren't enough, the mix of boiling hot poisons will likely take care of any would-be assailant. 2525

Crisiux glanced at the insignificant piece of terrain atop the hill that held the Mirrorlight Promenade, and instantly took in a wave of despair. It was noon, figuratively speaking, the dreadful sun was high above its usual peak, reflecting rays off his luminous beak and onto the peaceful surroundings. Crisiux had always admired the Beacon of the Radiant Eye and the high-esteemed scholars that worked with their passion, “someday I’ll fly upon the cliff and pay it a visit myself… ” thought Crisiux, “...though definitely not anytime soon.”. The grass toppled below his talons, matching with his soft green fur. Why is it that at the end of every Brightshine Jubilee does some ill-fated matter behold himself; last year it was the incident with a hatchling, this year it was his- He noticed something approaching, rather someone. The silhouette grew clearer into a dragon with a bright hide, yellow that reflected light even more than that of his own. “Clemen, what are doing here?” shouted Crisiux in surprise, “I thought you were aiding with the festival decoration”, earlier in the morning had the pair decided to head out and purchase some more wearables with their remaining Immaculate Tablets, prized and possessed solely by the dragons of light. Clemen, the cheerful nocturne, whom some would state impulsive, had wanted to coalesce with the dragons helping remove the excessive decorations that enhance the already very natured streets of the Mirrorlight Promenade, speaking of which was not a place content for Crisiux. “Ever the same, coming to… spend my last few hours with you.” hesitated Clemen, “As if! I’ll come over to pester you frequently!” quickly added Clemen to lighten up the topic. “Hmmm, you do know that I would rather answer to a Psywurm than have you around for the rest of my days…” joked Crisiux as he sensed the dispiritedness surrounding his brother. “Don’t worry about me, the Mirrorlight Promenade is fine with or without me…” warily confirmed Crisiux, though in his mind, he knew he distasted the populated, messy alleys that made up the uncomfortably warm Promenade, “...Mother is lucky to have use of your hunting skills.”. That was probably the reason why he, in particular, had to raise his own lair far out of reach of the rich region encompassing the cool ocean breeze that made the typical humidity seem bearable. He looked at himself through an unpremeditated pool of water. Being a skydancer, he was a scrawny, senseless, unalienable only for his looks, type of presence, and was commonly subjected to hear all the unsatisfactory things about him amidst the lingering minds of others; including those whom he calls friends. Clemen was undeniably the only one he would trust, the only one whom he would miss.

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His feathers trembled with each step on the, yet to finish, crumbling ruins, the ruins that over time, had composed itself with the earth in this locality, to create what is most of the grounds. He groaned, it would be consciously acceptable if he stayed for the night, but at least he would have to try to reach his desirable spot. If he was going to stay here, it would have to be satisfactory for him and his futuristic denmates. It was a guardian, no two, their heads poking in and out of a grove of pine trees. Far enough from the strictly speaking “Promenade” itself, he treaded towards the grove in hopes of finding himself a home. He didn’t want to startle them, moreover setting himself a bad persona, so he commenced with a light tune while subliminally allowing his eyes to look around this different landscape. There were more birds in this area, not big enough to fulfill his hunger of which he just noticed. There were dragons of different breeds landing coordinately along the intimidating ruins. Too many, or as he thought, were sun-basking with their scrolls in their talons, with the remaining populace wandering forth the chasms. “A beautiful day isn’t it?” exclaimed the Crisiux without acknowledging the enduring silence. With no sense of direction, the male looked at him serenely and said “Ah, here you are, call me Steelheart, and welcome to my humbled lair ”.