Zilant

Zilant is in may ways a model deputy- dutiful, polite, and coolly rational in every situation. Those who know of him speak highly of his skill and capability. Those who know him do the same, with some reservations. There's something ever so slightly off about him. The melancholy hollowness in the mild smile that's never far from his face no matter what the situation. The way he sometimes resists innocuous orders seemingly with no cause, except because he can. The way he refuses to carry his pearl in public, preferring to conceal it at all times in a secret place in his den.

Yes, his is potentially a violent line of work, so it might be at risk as he patrols the lair, but he is never seen with it off-duty, either. His colleagues will quickly defend him against baseless, tasteless gossip on this point, but even they have to wonder: Where is the precious pearl that symbolizes his self? And what, if anything, is behind that ever-present smile?

As a hatchling, Zilant was just as mild-mannered but far more deferential. His egg was abandoned by his family at a traditionalist Light enclave at the Beacon of the Radiant Eye. He can only idly wonder why they did so. He never saw them, and was raised by the clan of snobby, decidedly old-fashioned Pearlcatchers.

As Zilant grew, the enclave discovered a frightening problem. In their midst crept members of a sect obsessed with the power and oblivion of the ancient Shade. The enclave feared these cultists' presence would be a corruptive influence, a stain on their unsullied esteem. Rumors said they partook in profane rituals to trap and distill the foul essence of the Shade, which their leaders blended into new layers of their very pearls and thus defiled them.

The enclave lacked the spines to directly confront the interlopers. Instead, they concocted a more subtle scheme. As the cult invaded their clan, they would infiltrate the cult, to learn how widely its twisted ideas had spread and in whom they had taken root.

Zilant was volunteered to be recruited by the Shade sect- better to risk an Earth orphan than a dragon who was truly one of them. Zilant was shaken to his core when he was told, but he was raised to be pliant, not defiant. Besides, if he disobeyed, he might lose his place in the clan, the only place he had in the world, so he did as he was told.

At first, his mission seemed straightforward; he discovered several Pearlcatchers that flocked to the study of the Shade, and passed this valuable information to the enclave. But soon their spy went silent, and they fretted over his fate. Was he cast out, or dead, or had he turned traitor?

In truth, he was unknowingly discovered, and the cult decided to drag Zilant so deeply into their dark doings that he would never be clean of the Shade's taint, and therefore never able to betray them. They forced him to prove his loyalty with endless errands, growing steadily longer and more disturbing, and kept him from contacting anyone. Then they twisted the knife by lavishing praise upon him for his dedication to the Shade- surely no one but a true devotee would dare act as he had. He loathed and feared it, but some part of his mind was truly taken in by the cunning and twisted words of the cult's charismatic leaders. They preyed upon his doubts, his isolation, his simmering resentment toward the enclave for using him as their pawn, and most especially upon his guilt and shame, until their hold on him was strong and deep indeed.

The enclave had no idea that they'd plunged Zilan into isolation, into despairing belief that someone as contemptible and disgraced as he could never live a normal life again. That he was so desperate to escape he became resigned to his life's forfeiture once he fled. That the cult's hold on his sense of self caused him to believe the Zilant who was in the cult would never be free of it.

That to save his soul, he would annihilate that self.



When finally he dazedly returned back to the enclave the others recoiled in horror at what they saw. The absence of his pearl, the embodiment of his being, was eclipsed by the presence of a dusty sheen clinging to his claws. They derided him when he begged them for aid, then cast him out without asking for the information they wanted in the first place.

In numb shock, Zilant left the only home he'd known. He wandered to Dragonhome, the last place he might conceivably be connected to. He thought he should revel in his freedom, with both the cult and the enclave behind him, but found that he could not. He felt no bliss, no joy, no simple relief. He felt no rage toward the enclave or cult, no sorrow over his actions or losses. He felt… nothing.

He found the Demesne by chance, and stayed because the dragons there were hospitable, and didn't mind that he kept his pearl “hidden.” They were too polite to comment on that. Zilant almost wished they would. Pity- or worse yet, reassurance- said that he hadn't really lost anything. At least disdain would prove that he'd actually sacrificed something. Better to ignore all that entirely.

Altena offered him a job serving her in protecting the lair when she noticed his unflappable nature and willingness to work, and he accepted, hoping to find atonement and repay the Demesne's kindness. Zilant soon proved his worth in the line of duty, earning him quite the reputation at the Demesne as a fearless deputy. Privately, Altena worries about Zilant's eagerness to fight- where others see bravery, she sees recklessness verging on disregard for his own life. The thrill of adrenaline is one of the few things he can truly feel.

Off patrol most of his time is filled with reports and organizational work to distract him from his guilt or doubts or the emptiness that never leaves him. Otherwise, he meditates or prays to the Earthshaker in the Sanctuary of Stone, or lets Ladon and Jormung rope him into their antics, as they've claimed Zilant as their friend and he sees no reason to disagree. He knows they too worry about him sometimes, but they never pry, and that's all he thinks he can ask for.