Lost

Lost remembers very little of her hatchling years. The memories are fragmented, and hazy, like looking at her reflection in a puddle of muddy water. She remembers a kind voice, the laughter of other hatchlings, a feeling of home she now longs for desperately. There was nothing solid, nothing that could lead her back to where she came from. No matter how hard she picked at the scraps of memories she couldn't identify anything significant. Except of course, her death.

She'd died shorty after reaching her majority. It had been a sickness, a plague that clung onto the weaker magic of younger dragons. The younger the dragon, the quicker the death. Unfortunately for Lost, she'd been the eldest of the dragons to contract the disease and for weeks she fought it off, while her magic was slowly, agonizingly being destroyed within her. In the end it was a mercy that she died. For some reason, she just didn't stay that way.

She remembers nothing about the afterlife. She just knows that one moment she had finally wasted away, and the next she was waking deep within the Shrieking Wilds. She was lost, without her memories, and entirely too vulnerable to the creatures, and dragons living within the Wilds. Miraculously, she was found by a kind group of dragons that let her get her bearings, and even offered to let her join their clan.

She turned them down, thanking them for their generosity, but feeling as if there was something else she was meant to be doing. As if there was somewhere else she was supposed to be. So after she recovered she left, traveling around Sornieth in search of something else.