Pamolai
(#48155492)
The Silent Frost
Aster
Snowflake Nymph
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Nocturne
This dragon is under the permanent effect of a Silhouette Scroll. A toggle on the dragon's profile allows swapping between the artwork poses available for the breed.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.36 m
Wingspan
7.68 m
Weight
485.29 kg
Genetics
Ice
Savannah
Savannah
Storm
Bee
Bee
Maroon
Koi
Koi
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Nocturne
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
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XII. . ୮xxxxxxxxxxxX┐ . xxx 
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KEEPSAKE.
.xll.  .
A sash from a faraway land, given to Pamolai by Sirin. Despite all the conflict between the two siblings, they have always cherished the silk fabric piece. It smells of cinders and wine.
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xxxxxEveryone knew the queen was a busy woman, her days spent overseeing the bustling Summit Clan. Maybe there was something Sirin had to attend to, an issue so pressing that it triumphed Pamolai in her mind. Surely Sirin wasn’t a bully that would leave her friends without a word! Or maybe she was just that; a cruel dragoness who would abandon someone on a whim. But no matter how they tried to frame it, their heart still ached for their sister’s company. How they wanted her to read ancient stories to them again, to frolic through the grand halls of the clan together without a care in the world! Pamolai wanted to be the apple of her eye once more, the rambunctious little hatchling that brought her so much joy. Doubt and insecurity festered in their mind. Were they not good enough, smart enough, important enough? Surely there was a way to gain her love and affection once more, rooted in their insecurity and anger. And in the depths of their mind they found it; a challenge to be even greater than Sirin, to show her just how capable and deserving Pamolai was of her love! It was a hard fact for them to accept there was no more kindness to be found in their older sister. The only use she served now was the princette’s inspiration, a target to surpass. It was a cruel awakening to the injustices of the world, but they had to endure. After all, once a challenge presents itself… xxxxxOnly the strong and determined will persevere.
- ❖ -
xxxxxThe first step of such an arduous journey is almost always the hardest. To become a ruler to surpass their sister Pamolai would have to train their mind and body harder than ever before. This wasn’t a feat that could be accomplished by charisma alone; the princette had to prove they were worthy of the throne. Unfortunately, this would mean confronting any child's worst nightmare: schoolwork. Luckily for them, they weren’t like their brawny sister; academics came naturally to them, provided they put in the effort. The young scholar quickly found themselves blazing through all that their tutor had to offer, every grain of knowledge captured and turned over endlessly in Pamolai’s brain. When they put their mind to it, the princette enjoyed their studies very much. Once again the world was aglow with things to be seen and studied! How they wished to travel Sornieth, to see everything the land had to offer and the secrets scattered across its surface like the wind. Alas, fate had bigger plans for them - regaining the attention of Queen Sirin was quite a feat, after all. xxxxxKeeping that in mind, it was about time for Pamolai to confront their second challenge: gaining the strength required to tussle with the strongest of dragons. The princette was born a fragile thing, hardly able to lift their head for days after hatchling. Even in their adolescence, they still struggled to lift heavy objects or fly for more than a few minutes. If they couldn’t be stronger than Sirin, compromise would have to come from somewhere else. But where could a scrawny dragon find their strength? There was no doubt Pamolai was more dexterous than their sister - even with their terrible stamina they were still rather agile. But, being quick and sneaky wasn’t enough, Pamolai needed more. Maybe they would be a capable archer, better than any in the land! Unfortunately, drawing a bowstring proved to be a challenge. Some dragons were amazing aerial fliers, but that ship sailed long before Pamolai arrived. With every futile struggle and broken dream, Pamolai’s hope of being a great fighter crumbled further. However, the princette still had one card left in their hand: the ice that ran through their veins. xxxxxThe moniker Silent Frost didn’t come from nowhere. Pamolai’s abilities had always been apparent, although not as noticeable as their older sisters. It wasn’t just a metaphorical chill the icy mage brought to the air around them. booga |
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GENDER....
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Pamolai is agender.
They use they/them pronouns, but are okay with he/him. Although they appear rather feminine, they they choose to dress and present themselves androgynously. Their family respects their identity and are temperature around happy they can be themself. -xxxxxxxxxxxX- .
APPAREL.
.xll.  .
A well-used notebook
.that houses Pamolai's many observations about the fascinating world around them. Much like a Pearlcatcher's glimmering charge, it houses many of its master's fond memories. └xxxxxxxxxxxX┘ |
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ABILITY.
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Cold and deadly ice
.is Pamolai's forte. They're able to craft blades thin as paper, but as resilient as obsidian. Along with their abilities in ice- smithing, they naturally lower the temperature around them. If they don't control their abilities, they can accidentally cause frostbite... or worse. -xxxxxxxxxxxX- .
FAMILIAR.
.xx  .
Aster is an enigmatic nymph that sought
.out Pamolai. While her reasons for doing so are unknown, Pamolai quite enjoys the little creature's company. She takes notes for her master, and keeps them company on lonely nights. And more than anything, she gives earfuls of sass and drama to anyone that wants to listen. └xxxxxxxxxxxX┘ |
It seemed that frigid winds blew from their scales, like gales off a snow-capped mountain. Their mere presence in a room was enough to drop the temperature well below freezing without ruffling a scale. Unfortunately, this led to quite a few cases of caretakers receiving frostbite from the princette during their youth; luckily, controlling this ability had become second nature over a lifetime of use. However, Pamolai would have to think out of the box to utilize their power to its fullest. After yet another training session in their fruitless attempts to become stronger, the idea struck; if one was immune to the chill of a cool breeze, were they resistant to the blades of cold that crept under every scale? Just like a winter wind, Pamolai bought both with daggers carved from summoned ice. Swirling blades tempered with subzero temperatures littered every surface of their chambers, each one better than the last. With practice and research they eventually sliced rocks in half, leaving a glittering surface of frost with every swing. Their ability didn’t end there; ice was just another medium to be manipulated and controlled, and Pamolai demonstrated their supremacy over the element like a born ruler would. With a wave of their hand the blades could be controlled, a deadly halo of ice and magic. Their armory grew with every advancement, no weapon too complicated to be replicated with frost. Elegant and deadly, the princette’s blades would surely match their sister’s strength in a different way. xxxxxDoubt began to creep underneath their scales, wriggling deep into their heart and keeping them awake at night. Why did they do this to themselves, pushing hard in academics as a hatchling, wasting their adolescence training, and entering adulthood with an arsenal of blades at the ready? The answer wasn’t hard to find: they wanted to be the best. They wanted to surpass Sirin, to make her regret ever turning her back on them. But the older Pamolai became, the more foolish this dream seemed. They had been militantly training for years, chasing an image of perfection, but not once realised they were wasting their life! But, was there anything left for the princette to go back for? Every relationship and task was carried out only to further their progress. Any chances at love or friendship was pushed aside for a delusional dream of power. Pamolai had nothing to go back for, so they only had to press forward. But to what end? xxxxxAs a princette, their safety was guaranteed; they could be reckless, go where no dragon had gone before. The Summit Clan was not particularly powerful, but being a princette was often more than enough to make any dragon second-guess messing with Pamolai. Their interests extended no further than the rocky walls of the clan’s tunnels. Their eyes were set on a domestic prize, as their mind wandered back to where it all began: Sirin. It came to Pamolai in a flash of genius, as their mind wandered and writhed. It was obvious! Sirin wanted them out of the way to continue her reign. She had tried to silence her cunning sibling when they were young, small enough to never notice her intentions. They would never have guessed the desire for power would drive her this far, but her past actions spoke louder than any words of comfort she gave the princette. Pamolai had always been a bright and capable dragon after all; it only made sense that her jealousy would possess her to turn a possible competitor for the throne away. In an instant, Pamolai’s life had regained its purpose. There was no question about it: their sister was a tyrant! Sirin’s rule had to come to an end. Pamolai was tired of sulking in the shadows, waiting for a scrap of attention from their older sister. If the princette wanted it, they had to take it.
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xxxxxIt would never be a competition of strength against Sirin. Just because Pamolai was an excellent mage didn’t mean they could go toe to toe with one of the strongest dragons to roam Sornieth. Just like every great future ruler, they needed a plan. Luckily for the scheming princette, Sirin couldn’t be bothered to keep an eye on her younger sibling, leaving Pamolai to devise a plan in peace without her suspicions. So, where to begin? Obviously with rekindling their connection to Sirin. She was a kind dragoness, getting an audience with her wouldn’t be difficult. Neither would be finding a weakness, a chance to catch her off guard… then what? |
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e For as dim as Sirin was, she sure was stubborn. Pamolai wouldn’t be able to sway her into handing over the throne. They would have to use brute force. The princette’s heart raced with fear and adrenaline at the thought. Killing a queen? That was something tyrants and marauders did! Was that really what they were? No, this wasn’t about the money or the chaos it would spread. It was about revenge, merely a family affair. The chance of failure was close to zero with what they drew up next. A thin blade of their own craftsmanship, delicate enough to slip under the sleekest scales and pierce the heart of their sister. No matter how bright Sirin burned, the Queenslayer could match its heat with deadly cold. It was colder than the mountaintops of the Fortress of the Ends, stronger than steel and many times more deadly. Above all it was a culmination of Pamolai’s skill, a decade of trial and error revealing its greatest success. Now all that was left was to execute their grand plan. xxxxxThere was something to be said about Sirin’s stupidity that she never caught wind of Pamolai’s intentions. They would be the first to admit they had gotten cocky; in their few communications with other dragons, they caught themselves bragging about their host of beautiful weapons (they were all stunning, but Pamolai had a facade of innocence to upkeep). Of course most dragons dismissed their words as just an accomplishment that needed sharing. But every little error needed to be double-checked and righted immediately, in case word reached the queen. That would mean the compromise of their plan, and most likely their exile from Dragonhome. Time and time again the princette made sure nobody knew, remnants of their anxiety creeping up on them at the odd hours of the night. But of course all was well, and if not it could easily be silenced with an icy blade to the heart. Days had passed since their plan had been devised, only the smallest of details needed attention now. But, it was about time they stop planning meaningless ideas and get on with it already. There was a throne waiting for Pamolai, after all. xxxxxPamolai remembered the moonlit nights so long ago, when the princette and Sirin would watch the stars and reminisce on their day. They were sure she remembered too, and would be happy to relive those moments with Pamolai. How predictable - of course the sappy queen would accept such an invitation. Gaining an audience was the easy part, next came regaining the companionship they shared so long ago. Surprisingly, that wasn’t difficult either, her guard was always down around her dearest sibling, all her weak points shining in the silver moonlight. The rest of the trials Pamolai deemed difficult were nothing more than hatchling’s play; sneaking in a weapon and distracting her from its glittering movements was like tying a spiral into a knot. Not like she noticed much anyways while gazing up at the moon, its cool light illuminating both of them. Watching their sister’s pensive gaze wrapped Pamolai’s stomach into knots. Anguish and pain resided in her eyes, but most importantly they supposedly shone with a loving and hopeful glimmer. Who knew what was going on in her mind at the moment, but her thoughts seemed sincere and well-meaning. Despite all life had offered the queen, she took the swords that stabbed her heart and used them to fight for good. Was it right for Pamolai to end her legacy? Were they truly fit to rule? They could always spend the night with their sister like they used to, destroy the blade and go back. But, once again, there was nowhere to go. The time was now. The moonlight exposed a scar between her wings, a memoir from her service in a long-past war. She was lost in thought, sharing a memory held by her alone. The dagger would slide between her scales and straight into her heart, freezing it solid in an instant. It would be quick and painless, the very least she deserved. Pamolai brought forth the blade from their sleeve, and plunged it into her back. xxxxxShe gasped, her eyes wide with horror. She slowly looked back at her sibling, disbelief written all over her face. Her lips trembled slightly, but no sound escaped. Not as quick as Pamolai had hoped. There was no joy derived from watching Sirin suffer through her last moments. They pulled the blade from the queen’s back and let her slump to the ground. It had been done. Pamolai’s entire life culminated in this moment, but it was much less satisfying than they had anticipated. The room was silent now. Nothing but the new ruler’s thoughts filled the chamber. The silence was stifling. The hand that held the blade quivered slightly, almost as if it too regretted the crime it just committed. As Pamolai noticed this, they realized another sensation; something was sliding across their hand. They’d never felt anything like it. They peered at the ground. A puddle had formed beneath their hand, and continued to grow. Was this… water? That was impossible! The princette didn't even need to try to freeze water that came into contact with them, yet it was flowing off of them freely. Where was it coming from, their blade? That was unthinkable; the Queenslayer had bathed in molten lava to prove its resilience. There was nothing hotter than that! Regardless, Pamolai’s anxiety drew their gaze to their creation. xxxxxOnly the hilt remained. xxxxxSurely Pamolai was dreaming. This was just a dream, wasn't it? Years of hard work and planning couldn't have gone to waste in an instant! No, there was no need to worry. Sirin was clearly dead on the ground, her heart frozen solid. It could have just broken, then began to melt. That was just Pamolai losing their cool. There was no need to worry. The princette focused their attention to the melting hilt in their hand, trying to reform the glittering edge that slayed a queen. But no matter how much they tried, or how hard they focused, the blade continued to melt. That was certainly strange. Were their nerves too frayed? Reforming a blade wasn’t that exhausting, they could do this! Pamolai flapped their wings anxiously, trying to cool themselves down. Trying to cool down? The princette had never overheated in their life! What was going on?! Their tail swished anxiously through the sweltering heat. Raising their gaze, they anxiously scanned the room. Nothing, no source of heat anywhere! Certainly nothing hotter than lava. A slight movement caught Pamolai’s eyes, and they whipped around to find its source. xxxxxIt was Sirin. xxxxxImpossible, impossible, impossible! There was absolutely no way for Sirin to still be alive! But there she was, stumbling to her feet. Pamolai tried to conjure up another blade to finish the job, but nothing came to their outstretched hand. All they could do was watch as she righted herself, flapping her wings and swishing her tail to keep herself up. Great blasts of heat billowed from her wings, raising the temperature ever higher as she slowly turned to look at her assailant. Despite the violence committed against her, there was a calmness in Sirin’s eyes. But just beneath the surface, the anger of betrayal writhed. The queen slowly turned to face Pamolai, taking a few tender steps forward. They were frozen solid; the reality still hadn't set in that Sirin was still living and breathing in front of them. Where had Pamolai gone wrong? They were brought out of their trance by something brushing against their cheek. Sirin stood right in front of the princette now, her warm hand tenderly holding their face. The heat was different, no longer the soft warmth she usually emanated in their presence. It was the seething heat from an unexpected betrayal. Beads of sweat traced down Pamolai’s face as the moment continued. A single silver tear streaked down Sirin’s cheek, evaporating away into an invisible mist. That would be the only tear shed for her sibling, as the hand that held them so tenderly began to sear Pamolai’s flesh. They screamed as their scales began to boil and twist beneath her hand, leaving nothing but skin and bone. xxxxxBefore their body was consumed by flame, the princette heard Sirin one last time. xxxxx“I’m sorry.” |
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CODING BY ROLYO
Art by CaptainAnnabelle (#292205)
Art by Bennie Shaft
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