Tovva
(#45183383)
The Umbra Witches Are Back
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Energy: 45/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.22 m
Wingspan
5.54 m
Weight
688.52 kg
Genetics
Orca
Speckle
Speckle
White
Seraph
Seraph
Maize
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 8 Wildclaw
EXP: 10194 / 16009
STR
33
AGI
15
DEF
6
QCK
26
INT
5
VIT
7
MND
6
Biography
Umbra Witch
Queen Tovva
Queen of the Valkyries
"Though the flowers of evil blossom, be it known... Abominations are fated to perish!"
Tovva had always been destined to be a great warrior. This was something she’d known since childhood, and it wasn’t due to vainglory. Like many groups, her clan had a training school for warriors, and Tovva had always been interested in combat. Some of her earliest memories included creeping away from chores or lessons to watch the warriors in training.
Her interest did not go unnoticed, and the clan elders allowed her to join combat training. They regarded Tovva with amusement; the young Wildclaw, for her part, was very serious about her new studies and set to them with a will. She progressed speedily—perhaps more speedily than was expected for a dragon of her age.
Despite their amusement, the elders recognized talent and magic when they saw it, and they sent for Tovva one day. They questioned her on her abilities...and her inspiration.
“Sometimes I have dreams...”
“What sort of dreams?” the older dragons asked her gently. Their ears were alert for any keywords; hopefully by the time the discussion concluded, they would have identified information that could help determine who—or what—Tovva was destined to become.
“In my dreams, I’m a warrior. I run through dark forests.” Her violet eyes briefly grew unfocused as she turned inwards, trying to grasp those fleeting images.
“I’m looking for something...but I don’t know what. I just need to keep going. Sometimes...sometimes I have to fight. There are blades in my claws—not like what we use in training, but they feel right. And I can feel magic inside of me. I can run faster, jump and fly higher, and I can keep on fighting....I have to keep going.”
Running in near-darkness, thorns and trees closing in. Pursuers behind her, attackers before. Valor and magic welled up within her, and she met them all with a smile...
There were further questions, but when Tovva began to get tired, the elders let her go. There would be further opportunities to talk with her, and to determine where these abilities had sprung from.
This was not due to simple curiosity: Their clan was not a martial one; they had no great warriors in their family lines. Despite her aptitude, Tovva was young and inexperienced, and they wanted to ensure she would be able to grow safely—not just as a fighter but as a dragon.
So they decided to consult the Shadowbinder. Her priests cast spells of divination, peering through the mists of time and matter to the forces that guided Tovva.
As the spells enshrouded her, Tovva found herself drifting in a murky void. It wasn’t completely dark; it was more like being wrapped in a storm cloud than floating in an underground cavern. She seemed to hear voices murmuring in the distance....
And then the world grew even darker and the voices receded. Now, Tovva could make out a pale glow. Something was approaching her: It was indistinct but massive, and power radiated from it in waves. As it drew nearer, she was able to make out antlers, a flowing mane and whiskers. An Imperial dragon.
She’d never seen that face before, but that fierce, proud visage struck her as familiar. And with familiarity came a name....
“Sigrun,” she said later on, after the vision had faded away. The priestess sitting across from her nodded and unrolled a scroll. Written upon it were many stories of glorious battles and victories—but Tovva’s eyes were drawn to the illustrated figure winding among the sentences: an Imperial dragoness. Her epithet, written at the top of the scroll, was Valkyrie Queen Sigrun.
“A magnificent warrior,” said the priestess, “one who brought many victories to her clan. Like so many great dragons whose wisdom is too precious to be allowed to fade away, the Shadowbinder has summoned her spirit—and tied it to you, it seems.”
“What does it mean?”
The priestess smiled. “It means you are destined for great things, young warrior.”
Tovva was accompanied by elders from her clan, and one of them shifted uneasily. He inquired, “There resides in Tovva a strange energy, one which does not seem to align with descriptions of the Valkyrie Queen. Might this be some other blessing from the Shadowbinder?”
“Perhaps. It is early to tell, but it does seem to be Shadow magic. Strong, but of a slightly different sort....” The priestess didn’t seem too worried, however; she calmly shrugged. “The goddess does not quickly reveal her hand. But in time, this other magic may show itself more strongly....
“For now, she has chosen to reveal Sigrun to Tovva. The signs are clear: Tovva will be a great warrior. She will walk the path that has been shown to her, henceforth, as a fighter in service to the Shadowbinder.”
~ ~ ~
The years passed. Tovva underwent more extensive training to hone her skills—and to sharpen her connection to the spirit who guided her.
Sigrun, Valkyrie Queen. Over the years, Tovva’s bond with her deepened. The Imperial had indeed been a great warrior and leader in life, and she was eager to pass her knowledge on to one with so much potential. Her wisdom and experience were always available; all Tovva needed to do was ask.
This sounded wonderful at first glance, but Tovva eventually learned that this had its drawbacks. Despite the status accorded to her as a divinely favored fighter, Tovva’s clan was a humble one, and she had inherited her elders’ humility. She’d been taught to approach hostile dragons with overtures of cooperation and camaraderie. Sigrun, however, had a more warlike background, and more often than not, her belligerence was at odds with Tovva’s diplomacy.
Furthermore, Sigrun had lived long ago—a very long time ago. She was unfamiliar with many advancements in technology and magic, and at times was unable to deal with them. She sometimes gave Tovva advice that seemed sound...only for both of them to be stymied by some newfangled spell or contraption.
And so, while Sigrun’s presence gave Tovva an edge in many conflicts, it could sometimes be a hindrance—if it didn’t lead to failure outright. Fortunately, Tovva was herself quick and perceptive when necessary, and she lived a largely peaceful life. Her clan was a modest one with no dedicated enemies: She had repulsed raids from Beastclans, monsters, and other dragons; but in her day-to-day existence, battles like these were the exception rather than the norm. Still, there was the expectation that she would become a great warrior someday—and perhaps that day was not far off.
The sun had just set, and Tovva was walking up to the elders’ lodge, where she’d been summoned. A priestess had arrived from the Forum of the Obscured Crescent, bearing words from the Shadowbinder, and the Wildclaw already had some idea of what they were about....
It was the same old priestess who had counseled her about Sigrun many years before, and as Tovva had expected, she was here about that other matter: the “strange Shadow magic” they had detected in her. As she’d continued training, her magic had also grown in strength—enough for the priests to ascertain its nature and its meaning.
“It has been some time, but at last, the magic you carry has been revealed.” The priestess patted Tovva’s shoulder gently. “You are destined to become an Umbra Witch.”
Everybody in the lodge sucked in a breath of surprise when they heard that. The Umbra Witches were an ancient order, among the Shadowbinder’s greatest warriors and sorcerers. They had reached glorious heights in the past, especially when they’d allied themselves with their counterparts in the Sunbeam Ruins, the Lumen Sages...but the alliance had crumbled, and the Witches had extirpated the Sages—only to then be driven to extinction by the exalted forces of the other gods.
That had been centuries ago—but some remnants of those orders had survived, waiting for more peaceful times, and the Shadowbinder and the Lightweaver had then brought them back. They were rebuilding their institutions now, and that included recruiting new members—and it looked as though Tovva was destined to be one of them.
“Me? But...will they want me? I’ve never fought in major battles before, just skirmishes, really. I don’t think I’ve ever led more than a score of fighters at once! And I don’t think I have enough experience...”
The priestess laid her paw against Tovva’s shoulder again, in gentle remonstration this time. “Child,” she began quietly, “the decision was made by neither you nor me. Your joining the Umbra Witches is not something the goddess has requested—it is something you are destined for.”
Tovva fell quiet as she finally understood the full import of those words. She nodded back.
The priestess smiled wryly and said, “Perhaps this is why Sigrun was led to you: her advice to offset your lack of experience. Then, too, becoming an Umbra Witch does not mean you will be flung into battle straightaway. It is an opportunity to learn more, to continue your growth and training elsewhere. Your future has been laid before you, Tovva, and there is no shirking it. But what you can do is prepare yourself to meet it.”
~ ~ ~
Shortly after that, Tovva came to the Sunbeam Ruins. The Shadowbinder’s priests had given her guidance, and she more or less knew where to go.
She wasn’t entirely alone, either: The spirit of Sigrun, as always, accompanied her. The way Sigrun communicated with her was variable: sometimes words or images popped into the Wildclaw’s mind; other times she heard the Imperial’s voice.
She seemed to hear those ethereal tones now: “The Umbra Witches...I’ve heard of them. They were legends even in my time.”
“Did you fight against them?” Tovva asked. She and Sigrun had their differences, but they generally got along, and it was nice to have someone to talk to as she walked. Though it was well past sunrise, here in the mountains of the Sunbeam Ruins, a thick mist had risen, and it made everything look chilly and gloomy.
Sigrun chuckled. “I do not recall doing so...though it would have been a great honor! I am looking forward to working with you and your comrades, young Tovva. What do you suppose they’ll be like?”
“We may find out soon,” Tovva said in a low voice. The mist was thinning out, and having been forewarned, she braced herself for the sight of the Hidden Valley....
It still took her breath away. The place shone like a jewel, glimmering mysteriously in the shade of the vast tree that towered from its center. Tovva’s sharp eyes picked out individual buildings, and soon she noticed a small squadron of dragons flying out to meet her.
“They’re sending fliers out to greet us. I’m sure they’re guards—”
“No—look to the ground!” Sigrun counseled...perhaps just a bit too late.
Tovva felt the earth tremble, and suddenly, like a bolt of dark lightning, a huge dragon leaped up onto the ledge, landing heavily before her. She staggered back in surprise, taking in the antlers, the thick blue fur.
The eyes that gazed down at her were deep violet and cunning: pure Shadow. Beneath them, the vast mouth split in a fanged grin.
“The Shadowbinder forewarned me of your coming. Welcome home...sister,” the Gaoler purred. “My name is Bellatrix, and I am the leader of the Umbra Witches.”
~ ~ ~
That was how Tovva came to the Hidden Valley—but as she soon learned, it was not actually the first time she had met the Umbra Witches. She was not just destined to become one of them—once, a long time ago, she had been one.
Vesper: Bellatrix’s rival—and, later, one of her most trusted lieutenants. Born in Wind, her skill in battle had nonetheless secured her a place among the Umbra Witches, and she had fought valiantly through the dark days when they’d been hunted by the exalted forces. Bellatrix spoke sorrowfully of the last time she’d seen her sister-in-arms: she had sent Vesper’s squad to aid a besieged outpost. The outpost had fallen, however, and Vesper and her squad had never been heard from again.
“But you are here now, reborn as a Shadow dragon,” the Gaoler said with a warm smile, “and our order shall rise again. Have you met our other comrades?”
By then, Tovva had—not just the other Witches, but also those among the Sectonian Council of Crowns, and many of the Lumen Sages. She had in particular become friendly with Himiko, who belonged to both of those factions. The young Sage had been a great help to her, explaining much of how the Empire worked and what was expected of those chosen by the Empress...or the Eleven.
Bellatrix nodded in satisfaction after Tovva told her this. “Good. You are understanding how things work here. And of course, forging diplomatic relationships with the other factions will ensure our order is granted more favor.”
Inexperienced in politics though she was, Tovva couldn’t help thinking that there was something wrong with those words. She still might have remained silent—if not for Sigrun warning her, “She’s an ambitious one, she is.”
And so she said, “We have been granted another chance, Bellatrix. We mustn’t squander it.”
“Squander it? My dear Tovva, I am taking every advantage of it! We have an opportunity to attain heights we never even dreamed of—”
“But not at the expense of our fellows,” Tovva objected quietly. “Not even at the expense of the Lumen Sages.”
In the past, Bellatrix might have gone into a tirade over that, chastising her for some perceived weakness or fault. Now, however, she regarded the young Wildclaw coolly, even indulgently. “Perhaps you need more time to get accustomed to this place,” she suggested with deceptive gentleness. “That will help you understand what our order truly needs.”
Tovva couldn’t help thinking, over the next few weeks, that perhaps Bellatrix was right. There were slightly more full-fledged Sages than there were Witches—and seeing as the Sectonian Empire was located in the Sunbeam Ruins under the protection of the Lightweaver, the balance of power seemed heavily tilted in their favor.
But was that truly important? As time passed, it seemed to Tovva that the line between the two orders was a blurry one. Her friend Himiko, one of the original Sages, was on the Council of Crowns—yet she spoke not just for the Sages, but for all dragons who needed her aid, regardless of the faction they belonged to. Perhaps it wasn’t about holding onto their ancient identities as Witches and Sages, but about embracing their new roles as Sectonians instead....
When Empress Mirage later offered Tovva a seat on the Council of Crowns, she bowed her head humbly and requested more time to consider it. The Empress nodded in understanding, as calm and gracious as always, and so did the rest of her court.
There was one among them who was not so understanding, however: Bellatrix demanded an audience with the young Wildclaw. When Tovva went to meet her, the Gaoler’s fur was bristling with rage.
“You are a fool to reject the Empress’ offer!”
“I didn’t say that I’d rejected it,” Tovva stated calmly, “only that I needed more time to think about it. I have no experience in these matters—”
“What does your experience matter? When you are offered power, you must take it! And why do you worry about experience? You have it in spades! Have you forgotten who you were? Have you forgotten who you are?”
“No...but it might be better if I did.”
Bellatrix stared at her in shock. Tovva went on, “This isn’t the past, Bellatrix. We’re no longer fighting wars, and we’re certainly not bringing up old rivalries and grudges again. If I accept this responsibility—and it is a responsibility, not just power—it will be for the good of all Sectonians—whether they are Lumen Sages or Umbra Witches, or neither or in between.”
“For the good of...You are an Umbra Witch, chosen by the Shadowbinder herself!” roared Bellatrix. “You will see us through to victory! I command you—”
“You command me? As you did so...when? When you sent me, when I was Vesper, to my doom?”
Bellatrix gasped. Her face was stricken, and Tovva knew then that that was a mistake; despite the old enmity between them, Bellatrix and Vesper had, at the last, regarded each other as sisters. They had fought alongside each other, and the Gaoler had not meant for her to die....
Still, the matter had to end there. Vesper was dead. It was Tovva who was alive now, and she would continue living—for the good of all Sectonians, as she had said.
That was what she kept in mind later, when she accepted Empress Mirage’s offer, and she held that thought firmly close when she took her place as a Queen on the Council of Crowns. The court praised her name, though she was painfully conscious of Bellatrix glaring at her from the crowd.
“You’ll be up to the task, I’m sure,” Sigrun whispered, just at the back of her mind. Tovva, her calmness briefly cracking apart, asked her, “You really believe that?”
“Believe that? I know it, Tovva! After all, you are a great warrior. And the greatest warriors do not win battles—they prevent them from ever happening.”
And now Tovva was able to face the court with her head held high. Bellatrix would not be the only challenge ahead, but she would do her best. Just as Vesper had done, she would keep going, keep aiming higher...until she, and everybody alongside her, at last saw the light.
~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
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