Merga

Occupation: Light mage, Cultural/Religious Anthropologist, Clockmaker
Partner(s): Baslilisk, Rook, Auriga
Birthplace: Beacon of the Radiant Eye
Pronouns: she/her
Personality: studious, inquisitive, sensitive, easily frustrated

Deep within the Sunbeam Ruins there exists a cult of dragons called the Lightbringer’s Torch. Though all Light dragons feel a close kinship with the Lightbringer, this particular sect holds one of the most strict interpretations of her teachings. Merga’s upbringing was bound to this steep devotion, and her elders made sure she the other hatchlings her age held fast to a commitment of rigid daily routine, including scripture readings, purification rituals, and designated periods of worship, all performed accurate to the second of a sundial’s shadow.

All hatchlings were judged based on their memorization of and adherence to a holy text called the Radiata. Merga was such a prodigy among her peers that the elders bestowed upon her a special grant to study supplemental texts written by the Torch’s forbears in the clan’s sacred library. While her intentions were innocent, she soon discovered that, as with many ruins within the Hewn City, the building the library was housed in held ancient, long untouched halls far plumbing the depths of what she was permitted to know.

What she unearthed were not just texts from sects of light belief shunned by the Torch, but vast chronologies collected the world over. All of it was forbidden, but the sheer breadth of knowledge and experience was mesmerizing. She learned of the physical properties of magic as divined by Arcane masters. She pored over lovingly detailed anatomical renderings of genetic mutations in Plague dragons. But most captivating to her was a personal account of the most intimate and sacred familial rituals of a small, close-knit clan of Shadow dragons, as recorded by a fascinated traveler journeying through the Tangled Wood. Merga felt intense shame for giving in to her curiosity, but the dragons in these stories held a close, special bond that, as an acolyte largely secluded from personal relationships, appealed to her immensely.

So when a suspicious elder went through her belongings and uncovered profane materials Merga had bound and copied herself, an appropriate punishment had to be meted out.

Because she had fallen so far from grace, measures had to be taken to restore the holy scripture of the Radiata to Merga’s soul. The application, in this case, was quite literal; the sinner was subject to a torturous magical ceremony in which the words of the radiata were inscribed as Light runes to her entire body, so that they could never be forgotten for as long as she lived. She was forced to witness the burning of every single illicit and profane text she uncovered in the previously buried halls of the library, and once the last ember went cold, she was sealed in the highest tower in the Sunbeam Ruins, only to be released once the Lightbringer saw fit to grace the Torch with a divine sign which was almost guaranteed never to come within her lifetime.

Though she knew well how badly she had failed the expectations of the Torch, the regret she felt was, strangely, not from the fact that she had let them down. Her regret was that she could not experience the life of the dragons she read about for herself; the continent-spanning adventures, the wonder of different cultures, the gentle touch of a close friend. The life she had led up to her banishment felt empty, a lie of omission the elders were content to shield her from to further their own purposes.

And in the very moment that her rejection of her old life was realized, the lone window in her tower, hewn of solid, unbreakable magical light, dissipated.

Though there was a guard posted outside the tower, no other dragon seemed to notice what had happened. If this was the divine sign of the Lightbringer, it was revealed to Merga and Merga alone. The message was clear: the way of the Torch was not the way to completion and fulfillment. The Lightbringer herself was commanding her to fulfill a destiny of her own choosing; one of adventure, one of change, one of discovery and love. She flew from the tower until her wings gave out from under her.

Her escape carried her to a home in Macrophage, where she studies every magical tome that comes into her possession to find a way to alleviate the Radiata curse. Though she is immensely interested in family histories and the backgrounds of those who cross her path, her past experiences have led her to keep most dragons at arm’s length. The few dragons she has trusted enough to let into her life describe her as intensely personal and affectionate.