Mypilot » Lair » Arven

Arven

(#53827916)

Level 25 Fae

Ippotis

Whisper

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

0.88 m

Wingspan

1.53 m

Weight

1.1 kg

Genetics

Ice
Wasp

Ice
Bee

Ice
Ghost

Hatchday

Jul 23, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Fae

Eye Type

Ice
Unusual

Level 25 Fae

Max Level

STR

125

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

aspaceishere

ARVEN—aspacehere
•••The Usurper - he/him - ♫aspaceishere

"It is my duty to guide you to salvation."

In his youth, Arven was a lonesome fae. He did not seek the company of others, and the clan that he was born into did not press him with trying. Perhaps it was because he was a fae and most of them were not—that his blank gaze and listless tone of voice bothered them.

Perhaps it was his praying.

Arven believed in the eleven, but he did not hold them to be holy. They were merely the first, gifted with strength and magic that could not be bested. To most, that meant godhood. To Arven, that only meant power, and one was not a god merely for being powerful.

When Arven looked up to the sky, and when the moonlight brightened his equally white wings (like ice they were, frozen and shimmering and, oh, so cold), he felt a little bit of peace. There was comfort in the moon’s simple beauty, of pale light and nighttime tranquility. Now, the moon was something grand. It was beautiful, bright, elegant. It illuminated the night, casting away shadows and dark sleep. If there was to be something divine in the world, it would be hidden within the spotted face of the moon.

Divuna, he called her. Saint of the Night and Moonlight. Not a god—Arven would never believe in gods, in all-powerful beings, because his Saints were much more genuine to him—and not stained with the muddy blood of mortality. She was the first, the one he called his patron. The one he would hold higher than all others, and the one whose soul branched out and extended into other Saints. So began the Sainthood.

In time, as with all things, Arven aged. He did not stay with his birth clan long; they did not fit well with him. They did not fit with the Saints. When he left—quietly, in the night, so as not to be stopped—he took only what he needed. His path led him deeper into the Frigid Floes, flying from berg to berg. He would occasionally stop and rest with a passing clan, ever the weary traveler. Some intrigued him more than others. Could they be worthy of the Saints? he would wonder. Can they see with more than their eyes? It was never the case.

More often than not, he would leave them with warnings and wisdom. In the beginning, Arven wanted them to find their way on their own, to make the first steps towards the Saints by choice. It quickly dawned on him, however, that they were too blinded by the shimmering brilliance of the eleven to see anything else. As he made his way further east, he shed his kindness. He grew teeth, biting out words of dark promise. If you do not hold the Saints in your heart, then you will surely perish. None believed him.

At last, he came to a kingdom. They were led by a king, the Sun Prince Aelius as he was called. Although he held the throne, the title of “true king” was held only by the Icewarden. A foolish notion. But the Sun Prince’s retinue consisted of knights, righteous and just. Viable candidates to join the Sainthood.

Arven, however, was learned now. He did not immediately propose his religion as replacement. He simply joined their ranks, living within the kingdom as a simple dragon. He was known only for being soft-spoken and quiet, minding his own business. But listening. Always listening.

Soon a day when the moon was full and bright, and Saint Divuna’s words whispered in Arven’s ear. It is time, she said. It is time.

Arven was a small fae, slight. But the magic that hid beneath his skin roared to life that day, and the kingdom was torn apart with the strength of it.

completion - leveled; gened; bio; art; dressed
honoured completion - skin; gijinka; story; theme

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Exalting Arven to the service of the Icewarden will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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