Rhavsyrik
(#47304265)
"I start something, I see it out. Take care where you step."
Hazor
Masked Phantom
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 43/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Mirror
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.43 m
Wingspan
4.41 m
Weight
573.8 kg
Genetics
Lapis
Savannah
Savannah
Grape
Peregrine
Peregrine
Platinum
Lace
Lace
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Mirror
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
12
DEF
6
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
10
MND
5
Biography
Rhavsyrik is the youngest of the Indomitables, and the first reason the Burningsky Aerie exists at all. He was never quite sure how he ended up on his own- whether he got lost, or his clan abandoned him, or something more sinister- but despite being born in the Tangled Woods, he was brought up in the Ashfall Waste and was, perhaps, the only hatchling Ckivsil ever truly raised.
--///--
They’re hunting the edge of the Tangled Woods when they find him.
Sirese- somewhere in the years between leaving the roost and now, the harpy and her dragon had found themselves needing names- is coasting high on the thermals blowing in from the Sunbeam Ruins. They’d left the local pack only a few days prior, and already Sirese can tell Ckivsil is itching for company of her own kind.
When Ckivsil, loping through the trees, suddenly stops, it takes a moment for Sirese to bank around and return to her.
Alighting on a branch above Ckivsil’s head, she hums a question, but Ckivsil immediately shushes her.
Ckivsil tips her head one way, and then the other, and turns slowly in a circle. She looks like she's listening for something. Sirese waits with bated breath for the Mirror.
Finally, she slinks over to one of the bushes. Sirese still can't hear anything, but she knows Ckivsil’s ears are better than hers. She nudges the bush with her nose, and again, harder-
-and Sirese can hear it.
In a heartbeat, she's back in the Ashfall Waste, and there is a lost and dying Mirror hatchling before her. She should let it die. She owes nothing to the dragons. But she can't just- leave it there.
The whole time, she thought she would come to regret her choice. (She didn't.)
There's a Mirror hatchling in the bushes, tangled up in thorny vines. He's a little bigger than Ckivsil was, a little older, but that's not saying much.
Ckivsil doesn't move. It's like she can't quite believe what she's looking at, won't touch in case he disappears when she does. Sirese has seen her like this only once before.
But then the Mirror shifts, struggling against the vines wrapped around his wings and tail and crest. The thorns are caught on his soft scales, and struggling tears at them- there's already blood running down his flanks, and more spills out with his every move.
He cries out, and the sound seems to break Ckivsil out of her trance. She jerks in an aborted move to do- something, Sirese doesn't know- and shakes herself.
She hushes the hatchling, reassures him with wordless humming. She brushes the top of his head, and he stops struggling.
She sits back on her haunches and begins to tease the thorny vines off the hatchling, careful not to scratch him while moving them or with her own claws.
Sirese watches the whole time, stiff with nerves. Finally, the hatchling is free from the thorns. Ckivsil lifts him out of the bush and holds him close, lying down in the leaf-litter to curl around him. She begins to lick the blood off his scales and clean the lacerations across his flanks.
Sirese can barely believe it when she hears the rumbling coming from Ckivsil’s chest- she knows Mirrors, like most dragons, are capable of purring, but she's never heard Ckivsil do it. Never.
She shakes herself out of her surprise and turns her attention away from the Mirrors, to the forest surrounding them. The last thing they want is a Shadow clan stumbling upon them, especially the hatchling’s clan- Ckivsil has no Flight allegiance, and her scent gives that dead away. No clan would want a lost hatchling to be found with a Drifter. Ckivsil would be killed, and Sirese would be able to do nothing.
So Sirese monitors the woods, watching and listening for anyone approaching. No one comes.
The sun crosses the sky, and no one comes. The moons rise, and no one comes.
Finally, the hatchling stops bleeding and struggles to his feet. Ckivsil lets him, but her sharp eyes stay locked on him the whole time, looking for any sign he's going to fall.
Sirese had never taken Ckivsil for the motherly type, but well. Consider her proven wrong.
It's a long time of quiet, bar for the brush of the hatchling’s claws in the leaf-litter. Even that is nearly silent; Sirese can see the moonlight catch on his deep violet eyes. He's Shadowflight-born, and that magic lends him an unnatural quiet.
An electric sensation prickles up Sirese's spine.
They're being watched.
She flaps her wings once to catch Ckivsil’s attention. Her head snaps up to Sirese, who's already watching the trees, trying to make out some shape or sound that doesn't belong, that might be their watchers.
“We have to go,” she says quietly.
Ckivsil starts. “We can't just abandon-”
“We’re not. Take him, Ckivs, we have to go. Now.”
Three things happen simultaneously, next:
First, Ckivsil snatches up the hatchling at the base of his neck. He yelps, but otherwise just goes limp in her jaws.
Next, Sirese spots a huge, dark shape between two trees as it moves. She opens her mouth to yell, or call out, do something to warn Ckivsil.
And finally, before Sirese can make any sound, the dragon leaps at Ckivsil.
…
The next Sirese knows, she's shrieking and clawing at the head of a massive Ridgeback that has Ckivsil pinned under one of its feet. It’s big enough that two of its claws alone keep Ckivsil down, one on either side of her chest.
Sirese can't see where the hatchling landed, but she can distantly hear his screaming.
Sirese is distracting enough to the Ridgeback that Ckivsil can wriggle out from under its claws and scramble away. The Ridgeback roars and lumbers after her, but Ckivsil is smaller and more maneuverable, and quickly disappears.
Sirese abandons the Ridgeback and flies straight up, trying to put as much distance between them as possible before it can follow.
Except.
There's the hatchling, the one they risked their lives for, and Sirese can't be sure what the Ridgeback would do with him, and he's still injured and small and too much like Ckivsil.
Before she knows it she’s pitching downward at the hatchling. She pulls out of the dive just in time to wrap her talons around him and bullet into the forest after Ckivsil.
And her wings are burning and the underbrush is thorny and sharp and all her focus and more is dedicated to dodging it and she can hear the Ridgeback roar and start lumbering after her but she can't go any faster and she needs to get above the bushes-
some thorny vine she wasn't quite fast enough to dodge catches her wing-
she's skidding across the leaves in tangled heap with the hatchling and the Ridgeback is looming over them-
Ckivsil comes out of nowhere and snatches them both up from under the Ridgeback’s nose-
and then they've broken out of the forest and are streaking across the fields on the edge of the Sunbeam Ruins.
Relief fills Sirese, because even as she hears the Ridgeback roar a little too close for comfort, she knows it's not going to follow them. She knows that, and it knows that, because it will never catch them. If they can do nothing else, Mirrors can run.
Finally, Ckivsil slows. She drops Sirese and the hatchling on the grass and pants, but doesn't pause for long before lifting her head and scanning the horizon, but there's no one else around.
“Hey,” Sirese breathes. “We lived.”
Ckivsil, having caught her breath, snorts. “Barely. That Ridgeback- they're usually so relaxed, but it attacked straight away. What was wrong with it?”
“Who cares?” Sirese says. “We got away, and we never have to deal with it again.”
Ckivsil doesn't answer, but she still looks troubled. Sirese dismisses it, and turns her attention to the hatchling who's laying on the ground and still breathing hard, gaze flickering around wildly.
“Oh, the poor thing. He's in shock,” she says. When Ckivsil clearly has no idea what to do, she plops herself down next to him and starts rubbing his back. It's not much- really, she can only hope he'll recover on his own.
Thank the deities, he does. Eventually, his breathing evens out and his eyes droop shut. He's asleep.
“What are we going to do with him?” Ckivsil asks softly.
“I don't know.”
“We can't bring him back to his clan. We have no idea where they are, how to contact them- heck, they might not even want him back.”
“We can't abandon him.” That's all Sirese knows, really, is that they can't leave him behind.
“No, we can't,” Ckivsil says, staring off into the distance. “But he can't grow up without a lair. Even Drifter mothers den for a season to raise their hatchlings.”
“Ckivs- Ckivsil, what are you suggesting?”
“I'm suggesting that we finally settle down.”
Sirese is little short of shocked. “Ckivs, you love running with the wild packs! Crossing Sornieth and again in a year, hunting your own prey and eating it on the spot- you'd give all of that up for one little hatchling?”
“Not forever,” Ckivsil quickly amends. “It doesn't have to be forever. Just- for a season or two, until he can take care of himself.”
“Alright, then,” Sirese says quietly. “Where do we go?”
Ckivsil shifts on her feet in the way that means she's about to say something Sirese's not going to like. She braces herself for it.
“I was thinking- what if we go back to the Ashfall Waste?”
And- oh.
Mostly, for years, they've avoided their homeland. They can't forget it; it's seared into the amber of Ckivsil’s eyes and her fireproof scales, but they've never wanted to face everything that went down there. When they did have to cross it, they skirted the southern edge, along the ocean and the Blacksand Annex, far from its northern border and Sirese's roost.
“Why do you want to go back?” Sirese asks.
Ckivsil looks away. “I- I don't know. Just- I have this feeling, that that's where we have to go.”
Sirese thinks on it for a moment. One one wing, avoidance tactics. On the other, Ckivsil feels like they have to. Sirese would follow Ckivsil to the ends of Sornieth- has, on multiple occasions- and if she's going to-
“Well, I'm not about to strike out on my own.”
Happiness spreads across Ckivsil’s face. “Well then, let’s go! What are we waiting for?”
Sirese laughs. “Sleep, silly. The hatchling’s asleep- and we really need to ask for his name, by the way- and neither of us can keep going for much longer without rest.”
It's as if she just needed the reminder that it's still the middle of the night, she just ran for miles from a mad Ridgeback, and and she hasn't slept for hours, because Sirese watches a wave of exhaustion suddenly spill over Ckivsil. “Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Ckivsil yawns. “Well. G’nignt, then.” She pads over to the hatchling and curls around him, already dropping off to sleep. Sirese huffs and sends a quick prayer to the deities that no one would find them asleep in the middle of the open, but she's too tired to care about any more than that.
She hops over Ckivsil’s back and tucks herself into the usual spot against her chest. They'll both need whatever’s left of a good night's rest. They've got a long few days ahead of them. They're traveling all the way to the Ashfall Waste.
They're going home.
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