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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.7 m
Wingspan
4.49 m
Weight
620.37 kg
Genetics
Royal
Petals
Petals
Royal
Butterfly
Butterfly
Jade
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
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» ════════════════════════════════ ※
xxx
"QUOTABLE QUOTE."
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※ ════════════════════════════════ «
She named her queensguard the day her father’s feathers started turning all smoke and shadow. It was rite of passage, in the kingdom, for an ascending heir to name at least six. But Artemisia wanted them loyal to her, and loyalty was rare in the kingdom, in the wake of the old queen’s death. And, well, back then there was only five she really trusted. There are less, now. But in the beginning - or at the very least, once - she had five. There was Deron, the easiest choice; too plain of a knight for her father’s court but perfect for hers. The old enchantress Melasuna, her first mentor and her first choice deep down, though she started with naming Deron for conventionality’s sake. There was Aarin, quick witted and sharper than her shortsword. Eowyn, the ever-watchful young witch. Set, her guardian since the day they met. The day she named them her voice had echoed clear and steady, and the crowd had cheered for the first time in months, and they all watched as the five raised their heads to the sun -- and the light that poured over their heads looked like hope from where Artemisia was standing. - - - Except, of course, that was before Set’s betrayal and Aarin’s curse and Deron’s increasing silence, and, well. Artemisia stands in the empty, half-sunken ballroom. She celebrated her birthday in there once, she thinks -- she remembers the spinning lights and the floor patterned into a rising sun and little else. She stares at it all, trying to pin down the memory slipping like sand though her hands, stares a little harder: faded paint, dusted marble... She's crying, a little. Above her, the pale knight standing on the balcony sighs at the sight, and begins to hum a lilting strain of an old, old lullaby. | ___ |
code adapted from template by archaic #19153
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