Galena

Galena narrowed their eyes, their breath coming in harsh pants and curling around their face like smoke. The bitter chill of the night is one the warrior has grown accustomed to, leaning into the nips of pain it sends through the gaps in their scales. Pain is good- pain keeps them focused. And in battle, focus can be the difference between survival or swift defeat.

But the creature before them is something they’d never seen before. Not in their years of protecting their hoard of glittering (and mostly-stolen) treasure, not in their countless hours training down in the frozen ruins of the Southern Icefield- not even when they’d made their way into the war-torn and disease-ridden wasteland they now called home. No monster had ever surprised them before- they’d always regarded them with the same cool resolve an upbringing in violent isolation had taught them. They were simply beings to be slain for food or loot- nothing more, and nothing less. That was simply the way the world worked.

But this creature- this fiend- something about them is distinctly… off. There’s something about the way it moves- giant wings flapping and blurring around the edges. It doesn’t appear mortal, like it’s drifting on a plane of existence that Galena’s claws can barely scratch. Their attacks, though vicious and well-timed as they’d ever been- keep missing. Or… perhaps “missing” is the wrong term. The blows land, aimed expertly, even as Galena’s patience wears thin. But it’s as if their gnashing teeth and furious blows are nothing but water rolling off the creature’s back.

And it’s odd- because the creature isn’t fighting back. It simply flies around Galena in circles, almost as if to mock them. Another blow and Galena can’t hold their exhaustion back anymore- they crumple to the ground, screaming in frustration. How can a foe like this best them, when they’ve spent so long training themselves to be unbeatable? How can they feel this week when the indomitable thing hadn’t even attacked them? Now, would it finally deliver a blow, snuffing out Galena’s life once and for all? The warrior dragon clenches their teeth, squeezing their eyes shut. If they are to die, they’d rather it be swift and with dignity, the way all dragons worth their hoard should go out. Perhaps their clan would remember them as a hero… as long as the humiliating details of their battle remained a secret.

But instead… there’s just silence.

Galena peeks open one eye, coming face to face with the one beast they couldn’t conquer. Face, of course, is a relative term- the bat-like being has no visible features… simply a white plate covering the front of their head. A swirling sigil shifts around on it, blurring in and out of focus. Galena can’t tell if that’s because it possess the same magic the rest of the creature has, or if their own exhaustion is forcing them to see things that aren’t there.

The creature let out a chittering laugh, flapping its wings and hopping side to side. Mocking them, hm? Galena lets out a growl, warning the creature to stay back… even though the threat is empty, and the both of them know it. The creature only leaned forwards… and then rubs its face against the side of Galena’s.
All of a sudden, Galena feels reinvigorated with a burst of energy. They jump to their feet, feeling strange magic pulsing through their veins. Their mind fills with strange visions- swirling shadows, a blinding light, the screech of loved ones dissolving in the glow of a heavenly warrior. A dragon, borne of Light… just like Galena used to be. Galena’s own memories mix with the strange creature’s- a creature Galena suddenly recognized as a Spirit of Shadow.

They remember being a young thing and spotting a strange, shadowy blur out of the corner of their eyes. On unsteady legs, they had moved towards it- before an elder of their old Clan had held them back. They remember watching warriors, dressed in the garb of the Lightweaver, heading out to slay the strange creatures that had started creeping into the edges of their territory. They remember few returning, bloodied but victorious. They remember the admiration they’d felt for these brave warriors… now tinged with the bitter horror and deep sadness emanating from the Spirit’s memories.

“My Clan… they devastated your family,” Galena whispers, and the Spirit nods. They frown, and then bow down to its level, gazing into the shifting sigil centered on the Spirit’s face. “Then why… why share this with me? Why not attack, and take revenge for those you had lost? I would have done the same… why show me mercy?”

The answer comes to them through a chirp, and a sudden telekinetic thought bursting into the back of their mind.

You are not their warrior anymore. Your veins run with Ice, not with Light. Your heart lies with Plague, not with my enemy. They have forsaken you to your own destiny… it would be unfair of me to rob you from the life you’ve carved out for yourself.

“Then why approach me at all? Surely, you must have some reason-”

Perhaps, I thought… that we are the only ones that can understand each other. Both lonely warriors, trying to find our place in a confusing world. And, besides… It chitters out another strange laugh. Fighting you is entertaining. I can see why you dragonfolk love it so.

Galena considers this. The Spirit’s words ring true… they cannot sense a hint of deception in the thoughts, nor the memories the Spirit has chosen to share with them. Perhaps… it’s time to stop clinging to violence. Perhaps it’s time to embrace a sense of camaraderie… To find companionship in someone other than a temporary battle partner…

To gain a familiar.




My hopeless project^^^^^

lore by @gaymiens