Kitta
(#48333706)
Level 14 Skydancer
Familiar
Alstroemeria Fox
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.21 m
Wingspan
6.69 m
Weight
455.93 kg
Genetics
Robin
Tapir
Tapir
Robin
Striation
Striation
Abyss
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 14 Skydancer
EXP: 8842 / 54161
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
The Worthy Fae
dancer/performer currently infiltrating the prince’s palace and seducing everyone they can to gain information about the prince so they can report it back to the ringleader. they’re very playful and sly and honestly very much like a fae because they don’t really like to lie but you can’t ever really take what they’re saying as truth either
____They were born. They were sold. They were used.
Kitta didn’t know their parents—not enough that it mattered, at least. They hear enough stories from the tavern owner who actually raised them. “Vile dragons,” she mutters with a hand wrapped around a drink. “Didn’t care a lick for their own hatchling. Couldn’t just leave a young’un like you to the dire vultures.”
They help around the tavern as they grow up. It’s simple, for a while. Making food, calming patrons just with their presence—keeping a youngling around was good for that at least.
Kitta is still young when the war starts—young enough it doesn’t matter to them just yet. They are safe within Echalhos, safe within the tavern where Rei has raised them.
Their adult growth is hard, but they survive. They start entertaining in more ways than one. Kitta has always been called pretty and beautiful, especially as their adult growth neared. That can be used—androgyny suits them, softening them to patrons, keeping the drinks flowing. Flirting words here, a swish of skirts or flick of hair or slow side smile there. Touch works wonders, they find, and they have a knack for making it welcoming. Ice can be used in many ways, but they specialize in lowering the temperature just a few degrees their gentle touch seems warm, enticing.
The patrons grow drunk on Kitta’s attention. Kitta does nothing to discourage it. It becomes a game, how much they can play with others. They learn to dance from visitors, perfecting the styles on their own, blending them together. They are all the more enticing for it.
The war brings more dragons desperate for a distraction. Money in the tavern flows almost as much as the drink.
News of their talents reaches the Beloved Sage. The palace always needs more entertainment.
She comes in the morning.
“We’re closed,” Rei calls when a knock sounds at the door.
Kitta lounges on the cushions and furs generous patrons have bought for them, back to the window. But they turn now.
A group of Hallowed Echoes stands outside. Kitta’s heard of them—it’s impossible not to with the war. Their armor is emblazoned with the sign of the Prince, a gold crown set upon purple. They’ve never seen one in the tavern, much less this many. A knock comes again and Kitta sits up.
“We’re—” Rei begins irritably, but Kitta interrupts.
“It’s the Hallowed Echoes,” they say.
Rei swears. “What in the Warden’s name are they doing here?” She moves swiftly to the door, opening it before the soldier outside can knock again. He alone is intimidating enough, nearly large enough to fill the doorway.
The guard looks down at Rei, eyes yellow with Light and, strangely enough, a scarf hanging from his neck. Without a word, he moves aside, revealing the dragon behind him.
She’s shorter than Kitta expected, eye level if they were standing. Her skin is generously sun-kissed, clothing befit to her status in the kingdom. She smiles as she steps in the door, bright green eyes passing over Rei and fixing on Kitta by the window.
Rei clears her throat. “The Beloved Sage,” she says, drawing the dragon’s attention. “We’re pleased to have you. Even if it’s earlier than to be expected.”
The subtle jab doesn’t go unnoticed, but the Beloved Sage waves it away with a flick of her wrist. The Hallowed Echoes file in behind her. “Yes, duty calls,” she says, as though this is any explanation.
“What duty? I can assist with whatever is in my ability.”
The Beloved Sage lifts her hand in Kitta’s direction. Her eyes meet theirs again. “Come,” she says.
Kitta rises slowly but does not step forward. She snaps her fingers and a guard moves toward them. They tilt their head down, fixing the guard with a frosty glare, then walks to the Beloved Sage just out of her reach.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Rei says. Her voice is tight, lingering with a hidden growl.
Impatient, the Beloved Sage steps forward, grabbing the underside of Kitta’s throat. They hiss, sending a bolt of Ice to her fingers and she pushes them back as though burned.
“Don’t touch me,” Kitta snaps. Rei’s hand hovers a breath away from their back, ready for support.
The Beloved Sage’s mouth twists unpleasantly into a wicked smile. “From the stories, I expected you more like my son.” She straightens. “And many stories I have heard, Worthy Fae.”
“With all due respect,” Rei says in a tone that indicates there is none, “might I ask again how I might be able to help you.”
“Hm.” The Beloved Sage stares level at Rei. “I came offering a deal.”
“What deal?”
“The palace is always searching for entertainment. From the tales of the Worthy Fae, I thought they might be a suitable choice. With compensation, of course.”
“Kitta is not for sale,” Rei says bitterly.
The Beloved Sage’s smile doesn’t falter. “I believe you misinterpret my meaning.”
“Stay away from them!”
A guard lunges forward. He shoves Kitta to the side, Shadow wrapping around Rei’s chest and neck.
Kitta stumbles almost to their knees, catching themself before they fall. They whirl around. “Rei!”
Another guard, the one with Light eyes and the scarf, hooks his arms against Kitta’s chest. They claw at his skin, ineffective against the armor.
“Oh hush, Worthy Fae,” the Beloved Sage says. “This is an honor, to be employed by the Prince himself.” She gives them another sharp smile. “I thought to come here with a… civilized deal. I thought you might behave enough for palace life. You’ll need more incentive for that. So come quietly and stay quiet,” her eyes shift to Rei, restrained by Shadow, “or my Guard will send her to the Binder’s Line.”
***
____The years pass slowly for a long time. Kitta doesn’t see Rei, though they hear of her from the guards. Whether from the standpoint of a threat or from genuine care, they don’t know. Kitta thinks it might be care from Centurion. He’s the guard who hovered behind them on the way to the palace, but Kitta doesn’t think it’s from enjoyment.
Kitta is good at what they do. They always have been. And they’ve always been a good actor.
They’re called for their dancing, called for their soft words. Those who speak with them feel loved, and isn’t that the goal? They hear whispers of secrets, learn more about the war than any rumor from the tavern—no one wants to soil a night of good drink with somber words. But for those who desire someone to confide in, there are no limits.
It changes one night.
Kitta is alone, like they often aren’t. It’s dark outside, the two half moons shining through Kitta’s elaborate silk curtains.
Except the window is open, which they haven’t done.
They freeze as the door shuts behind them, gently tugged out of their grasp. The lock slides in place.
The temperature in the room drops.
“That isn’t necessary,” a soft voice says. It’s rough, scratchy. Unused. “I… don’t intend harm.”
Kitta stills their magic. “Until I don’t give you what you want,” they say bitterly.
The dragon is quiet. Kitta turns, getting a gaze that gives them a start. Two different colored eyes greet them, one Lightning blue and the other Shadow purple. In all the dragons Kitta has met, they’ve never seen one with eyes like this. A mask covers the bottom of the intruder’s face, black like the rest of their attire. Black, like a thief.
Or an Assassin.
“The Assassin,” Kitta says.
The dragon before them nods, almost imperceptible in the darkness.
Kitta has heard of him—who hasn’t? Everyone in the kingdom knows the tales of the Ringleader’s Assassin.
Kitta folds their arms. “So what could the Ringleader want from me?”
“He knows of your… talents,” the Assassin says. “And has heard of your cause for being here.”
“He wants to use me.”
“He wants to—” The Assassin falters. “He wants information. And he thinks he can help.”
“And I suppose if I refuse, you’ll use the knife you no doubt have stashed.”
“You don’t like lying.” Stated as a fact. He isn’t wrong. But Kitta doesn’t mind twisting the truth. “He can help you.”
“And how is that?”
“Freedom.” The Assassin pauses. “Revenge.”
The words are enticing, in just the way Kitta is told they are.
-AtomicRaven
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