Cresta
(#52342723)
Level 25 Skydancer
Familiar
Valorous Battlemare
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.59 m
Wingspan
6.01 m
Weight
468.41 kg
Genetics
Peacock
Wasp
Wasp
Peacock
Bee
Bee
Orchid
Stained
Stained
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
14
DEF
5
QCK
49
INT
9
VIT
5
MND
9
Biography
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C R E S T A - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - an enchanted dream |
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╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ • mate: unknown • clairvoyant | confident | decisive • trained in arcane ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ |
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“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”
- Helen Keller
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You find strange footprints. Do you follow them? Sensations slowly began to creep back into her stiff form as Cresta awoke from her preternatural slumber. The Skydancer cracked one eye open, then the other, slowly taking in her surroundings. In the inky darkness of her cave, she could barely make out the familiar lines of her furniture. The leaves of her bedding, once lush and green, crackled beneath her as she began to unfurl her body. I can almost hear the creaking... She grimaced as she moved muscles that hadn’t been stretched in what she assumed was nearly a decade. Her body groaned in protest, but she persisted – one clawed hand slowly brushing the dust off her feathered wings. It wasn’t the first time the Skydancer went through this particular song and dance. However, this would be the longest stretch of time the violet-hued beauty had gone without waking, and the stiffness in her muscles was a brutal reminder of her hibernation. It took a while – minutes, maybe hours – before Cresta felt something that resembled normal. She fumbled around in the darkness to find the lamp she had placed carefully near her bedside. Or well, she thought she remembered placing it by her bedside. There was a soft *tnk* as a claw collided with the metal base of her oil lamp and she sighed in relief. Bracing for the brightness, she struck that same claw against the metal, sparking a small flame on the tip of the digit. “Still got it!” She whispered, her voice hoarse from not being used in Lightweaver-knows-how-long. The lamp caught immediately, bathing the small chamber in flickering light. Cresta squinted, eyes watering at the brightness. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she took stock of her environs. A thick layer of dust coated all of her belongings (including herself). As soon as she was confident her legs could bear her weight, she stood and began making her way around the room. At first, she smiled. Nothing had been touched. No one had entered the premises while she had been asleep. Yet after a moments consideration, she realized that something had to have woken her from her magical slumber. Her brow creased as she frowned. If it hadn’t been someone in her lair…. Leaves falling in a crisp breeze. Birds chirping. Cresta awoke with a start. When had she fallen asleep again? She swiveled in place, taking in the space around her. There was nothing new. No dust had been disturbed, not a feather or hair had been misplaced. Scowling, she looked down and noticed that her footprints on the floor still looked brand new. Thankfully, there wasn't a layer of dust. ’It must have only been for a few seconds? Minutes at the most.’ She thought to herself, eyeing the lamp still flickering by her bedside. Her mind flashed back to the dream she had. Had it even been a dream? The thought gave her pause. The Skydancer was no stranger to magic. Training in her early years on an Arcane isle had exposed her to much more magic than a standard dragon. Raised by spell casters and warriors, Cresta had an advantage in the battlefield -- and that partnered with her innate supernatural abilities and beauty had been the reason for her seclusion. Everywhere she had looked there was a new suitor, or an eager student. She wanted peace, and yet there was always someone at her door. Finally having enough of the constant clamor, she went found a cave and readied it for a deep hibernation. It took her months to prepare the right spell, making sure it would only wake her when there was danger nearby. Footsteps in the forest. Trees rustling in the ebb and flow of the wind. Sunshine warm on her skin. Again, the Skydancer awoke with a start. She blinked slowly in the fading lamplight. The oil was nearly running out. This is no coincidence. Cresta shook off the residual grogginess from her impromptu nap and began to search for her notebook. She had written that spell down somewhere… “Aha!” She exclaimed proudly, finding it half buried beneath the long-dead leaves of her bed. Flipping through the pages, she began scanning for a loophole in her spell. She had accounted for danger to wake her up, but as far as she could tell there was no imminent threat to her safety. And the dreams. ’Yes, the dreams. That’s what woke me. Footsteps. Footsteps?’ Cresta shook her head in confusion and continued skimming through her notes. There had to be something she missed – something she had unintentionally woven into her casting… A hastily scribbled note in the bottom corner of a page caught her eye. She quickly lit another lamp and brought the notebook closer to the light. As she struggled to read her chicken scratch, she vowed to spend some time working on her ridiculous handwriting. She tilted her head to one side, adjusted the angle of the notebook, and tried to read it again. “Of course.” She groaned in realization, the feathers of her wings ruffling in annoyance. Soulmate. The single word scribbled onto the bottom corner of a time-worn page reminded her of her analytical, and somewhat cynical, nature. She thought ‘soulmates’ were something from old wives tales. Yes, some may say that she was a little hypocritical – after all, she had seen magic. But at least with magic she could see, feel, and even hear it. But soulmates? She scoffed aloud at the thought. Of all the beasts she had met in her lifetime, not one dragon had ever struck a single, extraordinary chord in her being. Yet she was sure, from the bottom of her heart and deepest part of her soul, that ‘soulmates’ could be the only other option than danger to wake her. A clearing filled with wildflowers, caged in by vines and brambles. The smell of roses. Cresta’s eyes snapped open to the clatter of the notebook falling to the floor. Her fingers reflexively clenched in a half-hearted, and very delayed, response. Blinking, she picked up the notebook and set it on her table before beginning to look for a satchel and supplies. As she packed, she began to put the pieces of her bizarre awakening together. ”Soulmates are real.” Her voice was shaky as she spoke, still filled with disbelief that something she believed were, at the most, figments of imagination (or hormones) could be real. There was no other reason as to why her spell had stopped working. According to her notes, as illegible as they were, she was supposed only to be awoken for two things: 1. Imminent danger. 2. (apparently) Soulmates. And the dreams? Well, they weren’t actually dreams were they? They were visions. And so what did she have to do? Number one rule for magic casters. Obviously, heed the universe’s warnings -- figure out what the visions actually meant. By the looks and feel of them, Cresta would bet her firstborn that it would lead her to her soulmate. ”This is all playing out like some cheesy, overdone romantic play. It's what you get for trying to get all smart with the universe, wise guy!” She grumbled sullenly to herself, as she searched for her maps and compass. Despite her grouchy demeanor, the legendary Skydancer was beginning to feel the excitement. ”Worst case scenario, soulmates don’t exist. But I’ll figure out what I did wrong the first time, and I’ll go back to my dreamless slumber. Best case scenario? They do exist and I find my soulmate.” Tightening the last buckle around her satchel before throwing it over her shoulder, the lithe beauty was ready for her quest. Her enchanted door opened with nothing but a whisper as she moved towards it and out onto a ridge of a mountain. A crisp breeze ruffled her feathered wings with promises of adventure. The world she had not seen in what felt like a lifetime, was covered in the golden glow of sunset. With one last look at her hidden abode and its desolate surroundings, Cresta took to the color-streaked sky and began her journey. After all, worst comes to worst – she’d just go back to sleep. |
Training, Lore, and Coding by
UnhappyJoker
UnhappyJoker
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