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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
0.69 m
Wingspan
1.2 m
Weight
2.49 kg
Genetics
Tomato
Iridescent
Iridescent
Jade
Eye Spots
Eye Spots
Teal
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
Satrian's contract was destined for the gods.
There was no doubt about it as the tiny Shadow-Fae sat in the cramped stall with the low, low price. Already, a pair of dragons had started toward him. Satrian didn't mind, serving a god was a wonderful thing to do. His parents had told him so!
So he didn't resist when the lavender Fae with the nice wings pulled him out and went over to sit with him on the big blue Guardian.
The Guardian had looked up at Satrian and said, ''God-bait, Tamra?''
The Fae with the nice wings had grinned and said, ''Not anymore!''
Satrian wondered if the Guardian was the Tidelord. He was certainly big! And if a god picked him up, then he wouldn't be whatever god-bait is anymore! It made so much sense!
So he'd asked the Guardian if he was the Tidelord, and then the Guardian started laughing. Satrian didn't like the laughing; it bumped him up and down in the Tamra-Fae's arms.
No, it turned out, the Guardian was not the Tidelord. The Guardian was Kaladin. And the Fae was Tamra. And neither of them were gods.
So Satrian asked, ''Sending me to gods?''
Then a scary-patterned, red-eyed Fae came over. ''No. You have a name, little one?''
''Satrian!'' he volunteered with great exuberance. He looked at her eyes. ''Are you the Plaguebringer?''
The red-eyed Fae chuckled. ''Hardly. I am Eria- and you are the newest rescue. You shall not serve a god today, my apprentice.''
''A-pren-tice,'' Satrian repeated thoughtfully. ''I like it! What dossit mean?''
Eria smiled. It looked highly unnerving. ''It means," she replied, "that I will teach you magic.''
Satrian grew more powerful under Eria's tutelage. While he had no aptitude for finding the threads of magic in the bones, nor making them move again, he had a great aptitude for manipulating the darkness.
One day, a gold-and-silver Light Fae came to the left rear tower, which Eria had claimed. ''Satrian,'' the Fae said, ''come with me.''
Satrian nodded at the shiny Fae. ''Okay! Where are we going?''
The Fae smiled warmly at him. ''To test your power. I am Zurina.''
''Okay, Zurina!'' Satrian grinned at her.
Zurina led him to a great bright room hung with chandeliers and with lamps set into the walls.
''Bright!'' Satrian shouted. ''Make it go away!''
And then the lights went out.
It was very dark.
Zurina conjured a small ball of light into her hands.
Satrian didn't know why she did that; he could see perfectly fine. But when the glowing sphere straightened and thinned into a shining mirror, he saw that his eyes and gems had shadows streaming from them.
Then they were gone, and there was just a tiny Fae.
Zurina tapped Satrian's forehead, and a filament grew from his forehead, ending in a softly glowing emerald bulb. ''You will make an excellent addition to the Institute. Come, let us proceed to Tamra's library.''
And then Satrian found out what the central tower was for. Aside from the top, which Satrian was not allowed into, it was full of books! And so many of them were about magic! Some of them had names he knew on them, too. A lot of them said ''Tamra,'' on them. Zurina pointed those out as Research Journals, and said that someday he would have them too.
Tamra, who was apparently the author of the Research Journals, swooped down to see him, and tossed a book into his hands. ''Here! Here!'' she cried.
Satrian grabbed the book and began to read it. It was fascinating.
''The Umbra,'' he whispered wonderingly, ''is the force that flows within dragons of the Shadow Flight. Umbra, like the Guardian?''
No, Satrian was assured, not like the Guardian. The Guardian was named after the Umbra, not the other way around.
The book was still fascinating. Satrian looked at the instructions to call it up. It didn't look too hard...
The lights in Tamra's library went out. Satrian was unsure why everyone had to have them around at all, given how easy it was for them to do that.
''Maybe,'' Tamra mused, ''you should study in the basement. It's nice and dark down there!''
Satrian liked the sound of nice and dark. It turned out he liked the basement, too.
Now grown, Satrian researches with the same innocent fascination he read with as a hatchling. He's progressed beyond the mere creation of shadows, and into their manipulation. In some ways, he's more terrifying than Eria, because while the creation of disease and animation of bones may be disgusting to many, a dragon who can make every patch of shadow one's enemy...
It's a good thing that Satrian would never think to use his magic to harm someone. Especially given how closely he works with Eria.
There was no doubt about it as the tiny Shadow-Fae sat in the cramped stall with the low, low price. Already, a pair of dragons had started toward him. Satrian didn't mind, serving a god was a wonderful thing to do. His parents had told him so!
So he didn't resist when the lavender Fae with the nice wings pulled him out and went over to sit with him on the big blue Guardian.
The Guardian had looked up at Satrian and said, ''God-bait, Tamra?''
The Fae with the nice wings had grinned and said, ''Not anymore!''
Satrian wondered if the Guardian was the Tidelord. He was certainly big! And if a god picked him up, then he wouldn't be whatever god-bait is anymore! It made so much sense!
So he'd asked the Guardian if he was the Tidelord, and then the Guardian started laughing. Satrian didn't like the laughing; it bumped him up and down in the Tamra-Fae's arms.
No, it turned out, the Guardian was not the Tidelord. The Guardian was Kaladin. And the Fae was Tamra. And neither of them were gods.
So Satrian asked, ''Sending me to gods?''
Then a scary-patterned, red-eyed Fae came over. ''No. You have a name, little one?''
''Satrian!'' he volunteered with great exuberance. He looked at her eyes. ''Are you the Plaguebringer?''
The red-eyed Fae chuckled. ''Hardly. I am Eria- and you are the newest rescue. You shall not serve a god today, my apprentice.''
''A-pren-tice,'' Satrian repeated thoughtfully. ''I like it! What dossit mean?''
Eria smiled. It looked highly unnerving. ''It means," she replied, "that I will teach you magic.''
Satrian grew more powerful under Eria's tutelage. While he had no aptitude for finding the threads of magic in the bones, nor making them move again, he had a great aptitude for manipulating the darkness.
One day, a gold-and-silver Light Fae came to the left rear tower, which Eria had claimed. ''Satrian,'' the Fae said, ''come with me.''
Satrian nodded at the shiny Fae. ''Okay! Where are we going?''
The Fae smiled warmly at him. ''To test your power. I am Zurina.''
''Okay, Zurina!'' Satrian grinned at her.
Zurina led him to a great bright room hung with chandeliers and with lamps set into the walls.
''Bright!'' Satrian shouted. ''Make it go away!''
And then the lights went out.
It was very dark.
Zurina conjured a small ball of light into her hands.
Satrian didn't know why she did that; he could see perfectly fine. But when the glowing sphere straightened and thinned into a shining mirror, he saw that his eyes and gems had shadows streaming from them.
Then they were gone, and there was just a tiny Fae.
Zurina tapped Satrian's forehead, and a filament grew from his forehead, ending in a softly glowing emerald bulb. ''You will make an excellent addition to the Institute. Come, let us proceed to Tamra's library.''
And then Satrian found out what the central tower was for. Aside from the top, which Satrian was not allowed into, it was full of books! And so many of them were about magic! Some of them had names he knew on them, too. A lot of them said ''Tamra,'' on them. Zurina pointed those out as Research Journals, and said that someday he would have them too.
Tamra, who was apparently the author of the Research Journals, swooped down to see him, and tossed a book into his hands. ''Here! Here!'' she cried.
Satrian grabbed the book and began to read it. It was fascinating.
''The Umbra,'' he whispered wonderingly, ''is the force that flows within dragons of the Shadow Flight. Umbra, like the Guardian?''
No, Satrian was assured, not like the Guardian. The Guardian was named after the Umbra, not the other way around.
The book was still fascinating. Satrian looked at the instructions to call it up. It didn't look too hard...
The lights in Tamra's library went out. Satrian was unsure why everyone had to have them around at all, given how easy it was for them to do that.
''Maybe,'' Tamra mused, ''you should study in the basement. It's nice and dark down there!''
Satrian liked the sound of nice and dark. It turned out he liked the basement, too.
Now grown, Satrian researches with the same innocent fascination he read with as a hatchling. He's progressed beyond the mere creation of shadows, and into their manipulation. In some ways, he's more terrifying than Eria, because while the creation of disease and animation of bones may be disgusting to many, a dragon who can make every patch of shadow one's enemy...
It's a good thing that Satrian would never think to use his magic to harm someone. Especially given how closely he works with Eria.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Satiran to the service of the Arcanist 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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