LaSilva007 » Hibernal Den » Bellatrix

Bellatrix

(#53620374)

[G1 WB] Doll-Face

Familiar

Emeraldback Shardspawn

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

22.35 m

Wingspan

15.42 m

Weight

6033.46 kg

Genetics

Midnight
Metallic

Eldritch
Noxtide

Spruce
Runes

Hatchday

Jul 16, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Fire
Rare

Level 7 Imperial

EXP: 1720 / 11881

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

This dragon belongs to @LaSilva007

GENERATION 1

B E L L A T R I X

HANZJEL'S LINE
Doll-Face

You think I'll be
the dark sky
so you can be the star?
I'll swallow you whole.

Revenge
is just
the dark side
of fairness.

Of Thorns & Roses
Lineage and Lore Book

Born of a
Unstable Sponge / Natural Hybrid
Homunculus

Bella, the expressionless. Bella, the heartless. Bella, undead.

There were many things the other dragons whispered behind her back, but she never gave them the satisfaction of a flinch or a stolen, ashamed glance. Instead, she stared at them, long and unblinking until they themselves cowered from her gaze. They have always been wary of her. So shall it be, she decided. She didn’t owe them a single thing after all.

Bella could remember the night the Witchborne, Hanzjel, had taken her from whatever wasteland she had deluged in. Whatever feelings she harbored for the Witch only leaned towards mentorship, a guardian perhaps, but never a father. Not quite. Never that. However, Hanjel never failed to teach the brood everything a Witch needed, which was both interesting sometimes, and deathly boring. Bella was never one for lessons, and whatever she conjured to scare the others gave her enough satisfaction in their abilities.

But it was the questioning look he gave her when she expanded her magic into yet another malicious form. It was the way Hanzjel tried to keep her away from her sisters, whisking her away to a lesson, foraging, whatever activity he could think of just to keep her busy and away. His hovering rubbed at her skin. It was getting troublesome.

However, there was one dragon. The one called Myrithisei, whom the young imperial grew accustomed to. She started following her, stalking her usual hunts, pestering the skydancer with questions no other dragons in her brood would even dare ask. Myrithisei tried to shake them off in the looping crosses of the forest that bordered the clan, but seeing as the imperial had survived until morning did she finally allow her to stay by her side. Myri didn’t talk much, but Bella felt drawn to the raw power the one named as The Poison Maiden was emitting.

It was only a matter of time before Myrithisei would betray her.

Her powers of conjuration were paltry tricks; it started with the grass, the insects— a rock that crumbled to dust as soon as she brushed her claw over it, and how energized she felt after she watched the material, both living and unalive, desiccate into nothingness. Bella saw this as an opportunity. This way she would never run out of energy again. It will serve her well enough.

Screams suddenly cut through the valley where the Aetheatra clan had resided. Overhead, a storm raged as if slamming its anger against the earth, tossing up waves as tall as the Observatory’s peak.

There was blood everywhere.

Bellatrix stood in the middle of it, her eyes bright and glowing, a crater around her body as sparks danced all around her wings like a beacon.

Myrithisei faced the dragon that once bounced after her with such a sad expression. Hanzjel laid back, his wing torn and oozing blood, pushed back by the sorceress. “You don’t know what you’ve done, child,” Myrithisei whispered.

Bellatrix, or who she was, roared, rearing up as another crack of thunder hit her wings, lighting up the night briefly, but blinding.

Myrithisei shook her head and slammed her staff on the earth. The soil shifted under Bellatrix’s feet like serpents, thick ropes coiling and growing around the imperial’s limbs. It grew and wrapped around the imperial, keening and thrashing, sparks jumping, until she was fully encased in liquid stone and clay. Silence cut through the storm just as suddenly as it was there. The maelstrom of broken trees that looked ready to crumble to ash quieted down.

Hanzjel took a shaky breath and looked at Bellatrix. She would never be the same again.

THE LOVERS

There was a statue that stood in the middle of a barren crater, so far removed to the north from the Starwood Strand and dragonkind. Wilted flowers decorated the edge of the crater, and nothing else ever grew within it. Only a steady eye would have noticed how the ground shifted underneath the statue’s claws, so sunk they were in the soil, that and the common sense to stay away.

But they say, on moonless nights, the stone starts to crack. The statue’s eyes move, and you would see the barest hint of a breath over the dragon’s maw. Travellers claim that they see nothing there, only a beautiful Imperial dragon crying softly for help.

“The snakes won’t let me go,” she cries. “Would you help me cross?” Her eyes are the most beautiful you’ll ever see, shining, beckoning, irresistible.

But don’t you dare blink. Don’t turn around, just keep your eyes on her as you walk backwards. As soon as the bright shine of her eyes disappear, run. Run for your life.

You don’t want Doll-Face to get to you, do you?

Bio template by LaSilva007. Assets by Poisonedpaper and Kayosa (Orbs).

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