Digi » Hibernal Den » Daydream

Daydream

(#48031769)

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

Familiar

Searing Jackalope

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

3.94 m

Wingspan

4.52 m

Weight

681.86 kg

Genetics

Sanguine
Starmap

Metals
Constellation

Grapefruit
Filigree

Hatchday

Dec 27, 2018
(5 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Lightning
Common

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

There were many unanswered questions in the world. Others had remained a mystery for a long time, yet finally been solved. It was to these that Daydream looked for reassurance. If pressed on the matter, he would willingly and politely acknowledge that the question he wished to see answered most of all was not, in the grand scheme of things, particularly important.

What was important to all of dragonkind was not what was important to one individual. This he knew, this he understood with no qualms. It was as it should be. Unity could not be reached if every uncommon and unique search held precedence over the necessities of life. The world would fragment even more into further sects, fractal shards of glass that could never be mended to a whole once more.

He thought this to be a perfectly reasonable way of looking at it, and by example, he himself perfectly reasonable as well. It was only a shame that, as soon as he'd assuaged the other's feelings on this matter, they seemed to believe the discussion was over. Many times he had tried to bring the topic most dear to him to light, and many times he had found himself on the end of a short conversation, reassuring every other dragon, every time. It was entirely possible that he just hadn't yet found a partner to talk to that was philosophical enough. This was also a reasonable thought.

So many practical notions, and not a one had ever come close to reassuring his own nagging feeling deep inside. The question never was and had nothing to do with these first steps. It was altogether more simple and complex, both. The real question, the real mystery of life, was fire.

As an element, it was a rather strange mix of opposing concepts.
Anyone else fascinated by it could just as easily become as uncertain about the whole thing as he was. Should fire be gentle, warm, illuminating the dark corners of the night in comfort?
Or should it be wild, searing, devouring all before it in a blaze of glory? It had become clear to him long ago that he couldn't devote himself fully to both paths. The answer must be one or the other.

Memories of his hatchling days were almost all hazy. Common, ordinary, of little note. Nothing particularly terrible had happened, nor particularly outstanding- except for one thing. One thing which stood out among the rest, a clear and shining vision to recall. His siblings would be off searching curiously, endlessly for amusements, something to awaken their innate attention. This was a normal phase of healthy hatchlings, and it was encouraged with pride. However, he himself had bypassed this stage of self discovery. From the beginning, he'd already had something to latch onto. Something precious, a connection deep within. It was easy enough to find, and so the tiny spark inside grew to an awakening, answering flame that refused to die, ever since the first time he turned his wide and wondering gaze to the warming fire within the den.

From this young age he would spend long hours laying at the fire's side, hypnotically entranced. The others were amused, affectionate. What an early start, how wonderful to find your own inner connection so soon. He barely heard them. The flicker of the fire was largely silent, yet it commanded all of his young senses completely. The praise and curiosity of the others registered only as a distant, warm lull.

As he matured quickly, with practice came an ability to detach some attentiveness for the rest of the world, and to know what the fire would do next under any circumstance. Logs of every available tree, pine needles, pinecones, parchment, dirt, grass, and a rekindling of the fire directly from his parents. All of these had a different reaction within the flames, and he grew to love each variation in its differences. This flame could do so many things. A slow and warm embrace of the materials offered to it. A hissing, spitting, refusal at first, that turned into a swift devouring as though with anger came conquering of the offensive item.

These were only the most dramatic of reactions. There were at least, he figured, probably about a hundred different nuances to each scenario, seeing as he'd only witnessed thirty by now, and who knew how many other materials could be gifted to a flame. Firelight dancing in his wide eyes, shimmering across his scales with a blessing of an ever shifting pattern, he made a resolution for the future. He would grow up, and offer a flame every safe object there was, to discover each and every nuance of the flickering ritual it would reward him with.

This was a long term goal. It would not be completed in the course of a week, a month, or even three. There were far too many regions to explore, and so many possibilities. The prospect of spending so much time on this only served to excite him, however. That many possibilities meant that many more dances, and that many more potential patterns to decipher. It was like a language all its own.

He took great pride in his name. It felt perfect. How many hours had he spent, feeling more at one with the flame than inhabiting any dragon body? Countless, already. However, even as the others in his birth clan encouraged his interest, they never answered him the question. It hardly came down to a blame upon them, though. Young as he was, he never asked it then, and sometimes felt it a sorely missed opportunity. What if one of them had known the right words, known the true path of fire? It was best not to dwell on what ifs. Each dragon he had asked in the recent past however, had also never got far beyond his initial explanation of the reason for such a strange question to be asked. It was his own fault, he liked to be courteous, polite, and give a thorough assurance to soothe any potential misunderstandings at starting a subject by asking about fire. Too thorough, in fact. A great many of them had misunderstood and considered it strange and off-putting simply from his preamble of reassurance.

He was often left disappointed, and a little embarrassed at himself. Next time he would do better, next time he would find the right words and order of them, surely. So it went. The language of dragons was much harder to converse in than the language of fire. This eagerness to please had almost been an epiphany. Surely his tendency towards this behavior meant that fire too, was to be gentle, warm and giving? They were so similar, he couldn't imagine his own innate feelings to be the opposite of how flame should behave.

Still, it was the last secret hidden away. With no proof beyond considering himself akin to it, the nagging thoughts would never leave for good. What if it really was meant to be full of bravado, wielding power and glory to destruction? If this really was the answer, could he change himself for that last, most crucial alignment with it? It was a very worrying thought. Finding someone who had gone down the path of fire before, someone who knew the answer to this, was essential. He would simply keep trying until this too had been illuminated for him.

By Onceler

Bio resources by counterklock
Dividers by osiem
Last divider by Mibella
Coding by Digi

ART

By Sil

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Exalting Daydream to the service of the Arcanist will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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