Astraea
(#55017972)
Arcane Ambassador
Familiar
Enchanted Libra
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.95 m
Wingspan
3.9 m
Weight
892.83 kg
Genetics
Royal
Bar
Bar
Royal
Trail
Trail
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 2 Skydancer
EXP: 108 / 641
STR
7
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
7
MND
9
Biography
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A S T R A E A
A R C A N E – A M B A S S A D O R
Inquisitive | Forgetful | Honest
Astrea, a youngling swept into a role he never asked for, is still growing into the ways of how his job works. It's complicated, but since his adolescence, he has found himself beginning to keep up with the tasks of such an important position. Despite the early confusion, he pushes through it. He does not have time to falter or pause to recollect his thoughts. Amongst others, he must do that alongside other tasks.
"Get yourself together, I have told you numerous times." Othim snapped, a frustrated grimace on her face as she stared down at the Arcane ambassador to be. She was being a little harsh, but how hard could it be to levitate a bead? Astraea grunted, staring hard at the small round piece of metal, and after several unceremonious attempts, he flailed his arms out at it with a sigh of irritation. "I'm sorry, Kaze. I just can't get it to work. Could we try again tomorrow?" a smooth tone, but washed with guilt towards the elder. The nocturne exhaled sharply, and shook her head. "Unfortunately, we have run out of time. We will have to progress without the magic, until it develops properly. It seems you haven't got the strength to control it yet." she spoke gravely, standing, and stepping so her back was to him. Astraea opened his mouth to protest, but her voice continued, in a harder tone, as if she knew he was about to voice his opinion. "Same place tomorrow." His gaze fell, only hearing the wind rustle against her wings as the breeze carried her away in flight. |
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The sky was half cloudy, stars peeking out between fluffy mounds of pink and purple, trails of violets and blues. Astraea's eyes glimmered with awe as he stared up at them, momentarily captivated. Him, a mere skydancer, was an ambassador of this beauty? There was no way he was worthy of that title. Shaking his head free of the distraction, he slipped out of his den, bounding out into the surrounding forest before anyone spotted him. If Kaze would no longer teach him, he had no choice but to teach himself.
Twisting his body through the trees, down a familiar path, he came to a small glade, surrounded by glowing vegetation that further added to the beauty of the Starwood strand. Part of his reasoning for ending up here was that some said that they found their thoughts and genius within these trees. He tried to ignore the thought of getting lost, like so many more. Sitting amongst the gently glowing grass, he placed a pebble before him. Not the bead, but it was the next best idea. Relaxing his shoulders, and stretching out his wings, he let himself loose of any thoughts nabbing at him, and gazed at the stars again for a second, before drawing his gaze down to the ground again. Instead of the hard stare he had used before, he simply gazed at it, imagining it lifting into the air, and circling him once. For a second, he felt something inside him build, moving up his arms, torso, then neck, and- it hadn't moved. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, kicking the pebble away, and closing his eyes. It was useless. Kaze was right, his magic was not fully there.
A thud of hooves made him jump, and his eyes snapped open, alert, as he spun onto his chest. A maskless centaur beserker. The beastclan territory was nearby, so it wasn't unusual to see one on the border, but he was nowhere near there. It's eyes were trained on him, and he slowly stood, as not to spook it further.
"Hey, uh, I'm just leaving, don't worry." The beserkers were capable of speech, but by the look in it's eyes, it hadn't even acknowledged his words. Then he realised something. The eyes, bloodshot, walking instead a staggering pace, and he could see bright red blood dripping from it's flank. It was hurt. His thoughts turned to temporary worry, and he tipped his head.
"Do you need help? I can heal that for you." his tone still shook with fear, being smaller than this centaur. But again, there was no reaction from the beast, as if what he had said had just gone right over it's head. He could hear the scrape of it's sword and axe against the stones on the floor, and his eyes darted to them, spotting dried blood. In a second, his fear heightened, his breathing increased, and he turned to run, only to crash into the thick trunk of a tree. He was trapped. Pressing himself against the bark as the beserker began to loom over him, he curled in on himself, expecting a blow, then pain, and then-
After a moment, he raised his head, ears still ringing with the sound of the loud eruption that the clan would definitely have heard. The beserker lay, felled on the ground, bound with bright bands of light, eyes closed, and gash gone. The grounds were covered in a purple-pink mist, and he realised the same haze was coming from his mouth. Panting, he slid down onto the ground, as several dragons came crashing into the clearing, their eyes on the centaur, then him. Unable to form words, he lowered his head, and the fuzzy black corners in his vision took over.
Twisting his body through the trees, down a familiar path, he came to a small glade, surrounded by glowing vegetation that further added to the beauty of the Starwood strand. Part of his reasoning for ending up here was that some said that they found their thoughts and genius within these trees. He tried to ignore the thought of getting lost, like so many more. Sitting amongst the gently glowing grass, he placed a pebble before him. Not the bead, but it was the next best idea. Relaxing his shoulders, and stretching out his wings, he let himself loose of any thoughts nabbing at him, and gazed at the stars again for a second, before drawing his gaze down to the ground again. Instead of the hard stare he had used before, he simply gazed at it, imagining it lifting into the air, and circling him once. For a second, he felt something inside him build, moving up his arms, torso, then neck, and- it hadn't moved. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, kicking the pebble away, and closing his eyes. It was useless. Kaze was right, his magic was not fully there.
A thud of hooves made him jump, and his eyes snapped open, alert, as he spun onto his chest. A maskless centaur beserker. The beastclan territory was nearby, so it wasn't unusual to see one on the border, but he was nowhere near there. It's eyes were trained on him, and he slowly stood, as not to spook it further.
"Hey, uh, I'm just leaving, don't worry." The beserkers were capable of speech, but by the look in it's eyes, it hadn't even acknowledged his words. Then he realised something. The eyes, bloodshot, walking instead a staggering pace, and he could see bright red blood dripping from it's flank. It was hurt. His thoughts turned to temporary worry, and he tipped his head.
"Do you need help? I can heal that for you." his tone still shook with fear, being smaller than this centaur. But again, there was no reaction from the beast, as if what he had said had just gone right over it's head. He could hear the scrape of it's sword and axe against the stones on the floor, and his eyes darted to them, spotting dried blood. In a second, his fear heightened, his breathing increased, and he turned to run, only to crash into the thick trunk of a tree. He was trapped. Pressing himself against the bark as the beserker began to loom over him, he curled in on himself, expecting a blow, then pain, and then-
After a moment, he raised his head, ears still ringing with the sound of the loud eruption that the clan would definitely have heard. The beserker lay, felled on the ground, bound with bright bands of light, eyes closed, and gash gone. The grounds were covered in a purple-pink mist, and he realised the same haze was coming from his mouth. Panting, he slid down onto the ground, as several dragons came crashing into the clearing, their eyes on the centaur, then him. Unable to form words, he lowered his head, and the fuzzy black corners in his vision took over.
Art by JeLion
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