Noya
(#52899891)
G1 Mate to Zerah
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Wildclaw
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.48 m
Wingspan
9.48 m
Weight
661.75 kg
Genetics
Pink
Wasp
Wasp
Watermelon
Constellation
Constellation
Sunset
Koi
Koi
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
Noya
born Mimri
The Shining Star of The Archives
A Tale of Fallen Starlight
It was a normal afternoon. Completely normal, right? Well, as normal as it can be for me. Being the closest thing to a doctor this lot has, it can be tiring, especially when students manage to harm each other with spells gone awry. I have that Zerah fellow to thank for that. Students have been so reckless since he came here. I couldn't help but huff from my perch in one of the ancient trees of the Starwood Strand at that thought. I still remember what I was thinking as the sun set, the first star of the night flickering to life above me.
"... I wish someone would come in and tame that manipulative little Imp."
I'd heard of shooting stars granting wishes before. I knew it to all be conjecture, storytelling and the such. What I didn't expect was to become that oh-so-rare statistic of drakes to actually be hit by their wishing star.
Now I'm not sitting in my perch. It's just a shattered stump now, and I can still feel the faint burns on my hide from where the rock actually hit me. It looks more like a crystal, but I'm willing to call it a rock out of spite at this point. I know I won't be flying for a while, if I can set the wing properly and all. Pretty large rock as well. I'd say it's about the size of my head at least. Either way, I cannot help but find myself cursing the blighted thing, hissing all the while.
With my wing as it is, and the burns streaking down my side, I expect that my lovely Azi will find me, or perhaps one of the students. Perhaps even one of the others whose statues litter this garden. Instead, I cannot help but let out a startled hiss when the ground shakes beneath me. Then there's a head. Then another. Then a third. Oh, right. My Angel has a Tunnel Hydra. The poor girl seems ashamed for digging in this garden, but I don't mind. It's better than being found by some of my fellow scholars.
By the time she frees me of my fallen star, I can see a Guardian and a Coatl racing for me, clearly in a panic. A star fell into our local garden, after all. In the Starfall Isles, it could be very dangerous. In this case, it just seems to be a lump of rock. I lift it with a grin, my scales around my talons smoldering from the heat of the stone as I address Razael and my mate Aziraphale.
"Hey, look! I found a space rock!"
The Guardian stops in his tracks, disturbed, then gently puts a claw on the back of my head. I ask him what he's doing as Razael takes the fallen star into his paws, inspecting this potential threat.
"Checking to see if it struck your head, dear. I'd rather my dearest Raphael not lose any of his memories because of a silly rock from the sky."
It seems the only one who actually wants to keep the rock is Razael. I don't mind it. I'd rather not be reminded of my new burns, after all. I gladly let him take it as my Azi leads me back to my little cavern to treat my injuries, tutting all the while. I hope the bird-loving Coatl finds a decent use for the thing. Well, so long as I never have to see it again.
I sit in my aviary, my birds flitting about me as I stare intently at the meteorite. It's cooled by now, and simply glimmers with pink swirls. Some are pale, others are bright. I can even see some golden banding racing through it, though it certainly isn't metal. The flaking shards are proof enough of that.
Gatsby, my Sorrel Gryphlet, is playing with one of those flakes, a shard of orange gemstone. I still can't tell what it really is, but that isn't what intrigues me. What keeps me sitting there, staring at this meteorite, is how the swirls and glimmers within move, like the slow spin of a galaxy. Some stones have odd shines to them. I've seen that much in the collection of a dove pair I care for often, after all. But this... this is different. Very different. I could almost believe this stone was alive somehow.
I'm about to go and find Uriel, or perhaps my apprentice Israfel when I hear him. It's difficult to forget that silken voice. I still remember when he was younger, sitting across from me with a little darkened scar just over his eye, revealing the tainted blood within. Eyes of light, yet blood of shadows deeper than the night itself. It's hard to forget the pale porcelain Imperial teaching combative magic within the Tourmaline Archives.
"I heard one of our scholars was hit by a meteorite. Would that be the offensive stone?"
I'm careful with my words as I shift aside, showing it to the younger Imperial. I know he's manipulative to the core, pulling strings even I cannot see with each and every word. Showing him this stone, however, wouldn't cause any harm as far as I'm aware.
"That it would. I don't know what Raphael did to call down a meteorite on his poor wing, but he must've done something."
I can see a small smile on the Imperial's face, then I hear it. That soft chuckle, like a faint ringing bell, peals through my little home as he settles beside me, eyeing the crystal.
"Oh, I know. I believe even the students of Sanja heard Raphael ranting about it, despite their exploration into magic wielded in dreams."
I frown at this Imperial, confused. Normally he has some quip, some jab at me, or perhaps one I'm close to. Or he's got a look about him like he has some plan, some way to intrude on the lessons we know so well. And yet all I can see is a genuine curiosity in those pale yellow eyes.
We observe the stone in silence, mentioning the accuracy of some stars found within and their location in the sky above. It's some time before he finally speaks up again.
"Do you have any plans for this?"
I pause. On one hand, I'd love to show this to Chamuel. On the other... it'd just sit in a hoard of shiny stones, trinkets, and colorful baubles that way. I finally shake my head.
"I was only going to show it to Chamuel, what with his fascination in the stars and all. Aside from that... no. I don't."
He brightens at that, seemingly happy with my answer. I begin to wonder why before the answer hits me, only mere moments before he voices it himself.
"May I have it, then?"
I begin to wonder what he'll use it for. Does it have latent magic stored within it? Perhaps this is a case of some foreign object sent by the Shade he recognizes that I don't? Is this a trap? And yet, despite my knowledge of him, I know he was uneducated when it came to the matter of what exactly his ties to Naomi did for him. He couldn't know everything. Even here, with archives on such instances, he shows no sign of additional knowledge, even to his own lineage. Perhaps this truly was a simple fascination? Finally, I relent, and he brightens even more.
"I'll be here to pick it up whenever you're ready, Razael."
As I watch him leave, his gaze lingering on that meteorite for just a moment longer than I'm comfortable with, I cannot help but feel as though I've just made a mistake.
I peer at the stone Razael just had delivered to me, looking between it and a dusty tome on my podium. My students had been excused for the day under the pretense that I'd found a new tome to study, one to eventually incorporate into their lessons later. I wasn't lying about that. I would eventually teach them of the spells I'd found within, but for now I know they aren't yet ready for something so complex. They aren't ready for the thinnest of weaves to spin about the objects of this world, or the living creatures within.
But I am.
I sigh as I gently tap the stone again, listening to that echoing peal of sound reverberating about my lecture hall like a chime. That tells me one thing, at least. This stone is hollow. How else would it create such a sound? Well, short of a crack, but I can't spot a single one along the stone's fractal-like surface. No, it must be hollow. That isn't the only thing I notice, however.
Magic. Chaotic, untamed, strange. It reminds me of myself, in a sense. Specifically, it reminds me of the time I sparred with my distant cousins, the brothers that lived among the Wanderers within the Shadowbinder's domain. That fight had been... different. I felt calculative, the same as I always did, but also... impulsive. Like nothing could take me down. Like I could fight for days, weeks, or even months without rest, despite my mind reminding me that I'm just one drake. That foreign sense never really did rise up again, but now I can sense it, twisting about behind a veil of shadows. All of it, every bit, seems to be reacting to this stone, and I must know why.
I return to reference the page of the old tome, one I found hidden away deep within Aziraphale's little shop. Well, more like his hoard. It was tucked away, buried under rather dull scripts on history and, oddly enough, baking, but still clearly not meant to be found. I'd found a few such books hidden like that, and this one stood out to me. It almost seemed to call to me, and now I know why.
It covered notes on one of the descendants of Naomi, a very peculiar one at that. One descended from a monstrous foe, who pulled the souls of the lost to new vessels, giving them a second chance at life, though it never truly said how. Guesses at his methods were written in detail within these passages, but it all almost felt familiar to me. I couldn't really explain it, exactly, but it feels as if I should've already known all this. It had given me an idea, at least, when I found it. I had no vessel to test my theories on before, living or otherwise...
Well, until now, that is.
I return to the odd little meteorite, gently running a claw along the surface of the ringing stone. This hollow shell might just prove to be useful, if my calculations are correct. I check back to my notes one last time, then glance back to the door. No one's there. Unless they pick the lock, they won't be able to enter my hall. Not this time. I return my focus to the task at hand, closing my eyes.
Slowly, surely, I weave threads through the shell of the meteorite, beginning a rather complex knot of spell work within it's hollow center. I whisper the words I need, turning my focus solely onto the shell. The weave I have planned is complex, calling for the veil of death to pull a life from it's grasp. It isn't a common practice. In fact, it's often seen as an affront to the Eleven themselves. If I can bind a soul to this stone, however...
I find something odd when I finally feel the veil. I'd expected resistance from it, as many wrote about. Unlike this tome, many drakes have researched the veil separating life and death itself, despite it being one of the most frowned-upon practices among dragonkind itself. All have said the same. One must fight to claw through the veil, then force it to remain open to return a drake to our side. That was what I was prepared to do. Instead, the veil seems to give willingly to my touch, like I'm dipping my talons into a lake instead of a sheet of metal or stone. After a few moments of surprise, I continue the weave, altering it only slightly to adjust to this new development as I begin fishing about for a soul, seeking to return to the other side. To our side of the veil.
I struggle to keep the weave focused around my talons, forming a glove of sorts around the limb I can feel dipping into this pool of sorts. After a few moments, I begin to wonder if I've called upon something else, perhaps the wrong location. Maybe I'm swinging a paw around in the Sea of a Thousand Currents, ready to bring a literal fish into this stone. While that'd be amusing, it's the last thing I want. Then I feel it. Something more solid than the watery substance around me, like a gel of some sort. I can feel my talons pass through it, though strands do seem to catch. It's that which tells me I've woven the correct spell. Of the few who had succeeded in retrieving a soul, all said one thing about it. One could pass through it with ease, but a string would always remain, believed to be used to bind it in life to a certain fate or destiny.
I swiftly close my talons on the thread, pulling my arm back. This is where the second surprise comes to me. This thread doesn't just drift through the darkness I've reached into. No. It fights back. The gel I felt seems to harden into sharpened talons, swiping at my arm as it struggles to free itself. Does this spirit not wish to return? My desire to ask it this is what causes my spell to falter, and my weave to shift. When I open my eyes, I feel a cold sense of dread deep in the pit of my stomach.
Darkness. I'm in darkness. There are thin threads about me, some even tied to me, but the one most distinct is the golden thread in my talons, a faint figure striking out at my limbs as I watch. I don't even have time to think as I grapple with the creature, snarling with long claws and sharp needle-like teeth. Even that fiery feathered crest is raised at me as it continues to fight. It is out of sheer desperation that I open my maw, taking a deep breath. To my surprise, while it feels as though I've inhaled water, I find myself able to breath, and furthermore, speak.
"I only wish to bring you back! I mean you no harm."
Only when those words escape my mouth does the odd figure stop, staring at me. We both stay there, silent for what feels like an eternity as we look the other over. I'm almost ready to give up when I hear her voice for the first time, like an echo in my mind. Well, I believe it's her. I cannot truly tell if this being is using their own voice, or the internal dialogue of my own mind to speak for her, but something tells me this is indeed a "her" speaking to me.
"A price. To bring me back, you must pay a price."
I look at her, confused for a moment. Does she mean my own spirit? Perhaps that of another? I look about me, trying to figure out what must be paid when I see something. From my own chest flows a thread, pale and bright. I look between it, then the thread in my hands. Finally, I make a decision. I glance at the figure, as if asking if this is right, then I take the two threads and tie them together. When I look up again, she seems surprised, but nods to me in acceptance.
"The price has been paid."
I blink, expecting some sort of pain, or perhaps to find that this entity has taken my body while I remain in that shadowy place. Instead, I find myself in my lecture hall, still in my silks, the tome resting beneath one hand. I expect the stone to be beneath the other, but when I turn to look, I freeze. I can see the dark ichor of my blood on my podium, left behind from scratches brought on by the fight in the veil, but the hollow meteorite is no longer there. I look up, then pause.
"Ah. So. It really did work."
The figure stands before me, eyes bright as she tilts her head to me. I can see the injuries I'd given her from our scuffle, though I'm surprised to find the very same ichor dripping from them. A part of me wonders if they'll truly heal or not when I see those golden flakes shifting over them like patches. I finally find my voice again, shaking my head in confusion as I ask the first question that comes to mind.
"So... what do I call you?"
The figure, settled in the form of a Wildclaw, takes some time to answer, her long talons clicking softly on the wooden floor of my lecture hall. Finally, she speaks up, her voice now matching the ring of the hollow stone she once was.
"Noya. I am Noya, the creature you forged from stone. I am your beauty."
Now I can only wonder how I will explain this to the scholars... and what I'll do with this new life now bound to mine by blood and soul.
Art Goes Here
Art Credits Go Here
Wildclaw, Wasp, Constellation, and Koi on 04/01/2021.
Fractal Sight on 07/12/2021.
Ping Silvercats2 (Lair ID #537302) if bred
Hatchery Button/Relative Buttons Go Here
Accompanying Text Goes Here
Zerah Quote: The smallest threads can change the weave of fate's design.
Khashada Quote: G2 Pure Mate to Zerah
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