Cyperus

Cyperus

The king sits on a throne of lies and praise. He is surrounded by his castle, made from false trust and held together with forgotten memories. Further, thick walls enclose the city, built by the hopeless that'd been pulled into Opovder by magic.

Everything was going according to plan. When Cyperus was first "born", freshly risen from the flesh of the Scarred Wastelands, he'd felt magic running through his veins before he ever knew the word. And he was lonely. A Tundra had joined him after not too long, though he was never sure if it was coincidence of if he'd willed her into being.

The two didn't do much those first few weeks, both were focused on survival and learning the world around them. They stole books and maps from passing traders, and two things became clear:

One, Cyperus was an incredibly powerful sorcerer, gifted magic by the Plaguebringer herself.

Two, Felicita was powerless.

Both were content with the discovery, and soon the Mirror was testing his skills. He wanted more companions, a group that would not ever leave his side.

Ten came:

A confident Guardian on the search for a Charge, fiercely completive and brave.

A timid Pearlcatcher with a splintered Pearl and the sun in her eyes.

Another Pearlcatcher, this one obsessed with the future and simply longing for a greater cause.

A happy Bogsneak with a kind smile and delicate claws.

An aloof Imperial with skin like crystals and tight lips.

A generous Fae, willing to give everything she had to help others.

A nearly silent Skydancer that was ready to blend into any surrounding, no matter how difficult.

An eccentric Spiral with strange eyes and a stranger smile and even stranger colors.

A childish Coatl, with feathers like fruit and flashy magic at his claws.

And a calculating Snapper, with a mind unparalleled when it came to logic.

These ten, along with the king and queen, became the founders of their new land. Opovder, they called it, and began their work building the city.

But Cyperus needed more. More helping hands, more subjects, more praise, power, magic. And thus, he cast another spell.

All who are lost, all who have nowhere else that will take them, who are out-casted and rejected, come here. And praise the Plaguebringer, and praise your king, and there shall always be a home here. Forget your past, become one with this city.

And with each who does, let your king's magic increase.

. . .

Depending on what time they met him, most dragons had varying opinions of the king. The founders of the clan and the earliest citizens remember a young, idealistic Mirror who wanted nothing more than to serve the Plaguebringer. After the early days, the citizens remember a devoted, but distant, leader. Those who joined later than that, though, after the full construction of the wall, only know him as a king, the one who issues orders and keeps the order.

If one were to get close to Cyperus, they would find that everyone was right, in their own way. Nothing mattered to him more than his land and his faith, so he distanced himself from everything else. He took time to practice his magic, and frequently used it to strengthen Opovder. As his city grew, he became more and more drawn back, comfortable in the knowledge that they didn't need his guidance.