Soul

►Info

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Name: Soul Occupation: Exorcist Build: Ghostlight Anticitank

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► Memories

Soul had been a fighter since birth. At least, that was what he told anyone who asked; nobody could really say where the black wildclaw came from or how he got where he was. His home and his habits were a mystery. All the same, the ironclad rule of dealing with Soul was that you did not ever, ever cross him.

The dragon had never lost a fight. He was hot-tempered and savage in battle, and the slightest insult could instigate a brawl. If Soul weren't such a good deterrent for bandits, it was doubtful that any clan within twenty miles would offer shelter or goods to the vicious wildclaw.

And of course, Soul was no fool. He knew that he'd make entire clans his enemy if he went around starting fights for nothing. Maybe that was why he drove off predators and invaders the way he did. When it was calm, and the black wildclaw showed up in town to buy his goods and observe, he'd take insults silently. Cocky dragons would get right in his face, watching him seethe silently at their disrespect, but he never made a move. As it turned out, he never forgot a face either, and the next time a ferocious herd of beastclan was repelled by the wildclaw, he'd be knocking on the cocky one's door the next day to settle his grudge.
But he never stayed for long, both a blessing and a curse. If Soul even had a permanent home, no one knew where it was. He traveled Sornieth for reasons unknown, never discussing his goals or his journeys with a single soul. There didn't seem to be any purpose in his wanderings.

When he showed up in a certain clan's territory, they'd naturally heard of the vicious wildclaw, and they expected him to act just as he had in other territories. But to their surprise, he started asking questions about the green demon that lived on their temple grounds. He was not only intrigued but inspired by the possessed skydancer who lurked among its broken stone walls, and no amount of persuading from the clan members - though they didn't try very hard - could dissuade him from making his way to the temple.

When he arrived there, he found the green demon. The battle between them was ferocious, but quick, and for the first time Soul found that he had met his match in combat. The possessed dragon was relentless, cruel, calculating, and dangerous. He never stopped attacking, and even when Soul was drawing pained breaths of exhaustion his opponent barely seemed to falter.
There was a spark of something in that first fight. Something blossomed in Soul, though he didn't know what. He retreated for the moment, determined to gather his wits and challenge the demon again. He returned to the clan, telling them of his battle and showing off the wounds he'd received against the green skydancer. He told them that he would return to the temple the next day, and truly see what "Evan" was made of. This unbreakable curse was nothing he couldn't handle.

But as fortune would have it, there was nothing Souleater could do. For hours the dragons ripped at each other, scales and feathers and bits of cloth flying around them like a cloud of carnage. Soul made the first mistake, and he paid for that mistake with his eyes.

The world went black forever. Still, the wildclaw was determined to fight, his heart bounding. The image of the green demon whirling in a vicious rage was burned into his mind as the last thing he ever saw. Of course, without his eyesight, he posed little threat to Evan.

But still, he refused to lose. He didn't know how long he kept up the battle, or what time it was when the demon's attacks finally slowed. But he could hear the skydancer panting, and the sound of it brought him satisfaction. Even with that ridiculous curse, he'd been able to wear down the demon.
"You haven't driven me off yet." he boasted.

Some time after that, he lost consciousness. Dimly, he was aware that he was being dragged across the cold ground. When he finally came to, there were voices of the dragons of the clan, asking him about the battle and whether or not he'd prevailed. Surely, they said, he would not have been able to make it out of the temple grounds with his injuries unless he'd been victorious!

"No, it was no victory." Soul told them. "But I won't give up."

From that day forward, Soul's thoughts were consumed by Evan. He couldn't stop thinking about the possessed dragon and the temple grounds that he patrolled. With some difficulty, the wildclaw was able to find his way back to the temple.

He was driven off by the savage demon. And again, the next time. And again.

But the more he came, the less the wounds hurt. The slower the claws were. Before long, as long as he didn't enter the temple, Evan was content to leave him be.

And Soul realized that this obsession which had blossomed inside of him was love, the first he'd known. Love of the demon's strength? Love of his martial beauty? His determination? His willpower?

Maybe it was all of them. At some point, his resolve to remove that cursed necklace was not out of a desire to prove himself, but instead out of a desire to free Evan from its demons. He wanted the skydancer to be free. He wanted to help him get there.

And he wouldn't give up until he succeeded.

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Lore by Doppler

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► Visions