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Taliesen

(#56454147)

Level 25 Pearlcatcher

Familiar

Fathomsearch Ambassador

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.72 m

Wingspan

4.72 m

Weight

664.98 kg

Genetics

Tan
Vipera

Lapis
Bee

Azure
Opal

Hatchday

Oct 31, 2019
(4 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Nature
Rare

Level 25 Pearlcatcher

Max Level

STR

100

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

__._

Taliesen.
↠ To trust and keep

"And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall..."

Silly little boy, rich and noble born, gifted with the boon of magicka and beauty, why would you throw it all away?

Of old money he came, of old fortune his name stemmed and he couldn’t care any less. Yes, he attended every lesson, he did what mother and father and siblings told him to do, and he was suffocating within all the while. What use was there to life if he was a simple pawn for others to push around?

You have to see it to believe it. Ne’er saw a beast that magnificent, so graceful in the water.

Closing his eyes, he danced away the sorrows, because what else was there. The noble son of a noble family, burdened with fortune and nowhere to go, with the curse of magicka and beauty, he had little more usage for it other than twirling away to the sound of stomping feet and bellowing cries. Over tables and the counter, past spilled beverages and cards that went ignored. Every time he stepped into the bar, the sailors were looking up curiously.

Because what was a daisy crowned boy searching here, in the down and dirty right next to the common filth washed on by the sea? In his silk and lace, he convinced them to at least not kick him out right there and then. A snap of his fingers and water became a ribbon with which he danced and mesmerized, gold flashing as the cries for more became louder and louder.

Someone like you needs more. Needs adventures and to see the world.

A slipped footing and he fell, with whirling skirts and cascading hair into the open embrace of the man who promised him the world. It was naive and foolish just as it was sweet and romantic, a whirlwind romance that left him free of doubts and sorrows, that gave just as much as he took.

Finist could have told him every lie under the sun and he still believed it with his eyes wide open. And just like this, their summer romance was cut short, the ship was ready to head out again, because just like the rest, Finist was a sailor, a man that belonged to the sea more than to anyone else. And he was no fool, no one could take away a hawk’s wings, but what spoke against accompanying him?

Abandoning his life and lessons and everything he knew, all he took with him was the necklace of his belief. Who knew a pirate to be a religious sort? He believed but he refused to bow his head or knee to moth eaten, dust covered ideas. And since he left behind who he was anyways, who said he couldn’t make his new belief as he went?

What good is a mage on a ship anyways? Toss the lad overboard.

Useless at first, but not for long, the other crew members relied on their fists and their cannons and he left them believing that he was a mere lordling, clinging to their captain’s pant leg. Maybe they were right, wherever Finist went, he followed, to watch with awe and wide eyed wonder the world he was shown. Finist was honest, he never lied, shared that they were no honest working sailors, that they sailed underneath the flag of crossed bones. He even offered him a way out, if he really wanted to, if he was scared, he could leave any time.

Show me more, show me everything.

Instead he demanded more, he went into this fully knowing something was hidden from him. Be it fairytale or myth or simple trickery, the siren’s call of freedom was too grand to resist. And next to Finist, he soared, higher than ever before. Magicka became the ship’s shield and he, the good luck charm, welcomed among the crew after proving his usefulness, he fought alongside them, bled for them and danced when their minds needed a distraction.

And when the men were fed and entertained, he fell into the captain’s arms once more, between the pillows and sometimes even on their share of plunder. It was playful and simple, peaceful in the lawless way the sea operated. He could have gone on like this for all his life, watching, but never quite understanding. Of course he knew of his beloved’s secrets, something was not quite mortal about the man, he could feel it, sense it with every ounce of magicka flowing through his veins. Yet why rushing, why forcing the secrets to come out when the time was clearly not right?

You have to trust me.

In hindsight, he wished he had forced it, the secrets, the knowledge. Clinging to the amulet with a lock of Finist’s braid, stolen before the other could burn it with the rest, he was forced to watch. Together with the rest of their beaten, wounded crew as the rival captain enforced his victory. Tied to the anchor, he watched his loved one sink, down, into the sea’s merciless embrace and out of his reach.

He fell on his knees to pray, because what else could he do but pray and trust and cry. Still feeling the other’s warm breath against his ear, his words ringing within his skull, long after the dreadnought had abandoned them. Beaten, broken, leaderless with burning sails and adrift on the high sea. He could trust, even if it tore apart his heart. Because this was his fault, a mage on a pirate ship, of course this would call forth unwanted attention, of course this would conjure up rivals with injured pride.

A toast for the captain! Up the cups for the Captain.

Finist gone, he was left behind, to lead and to trust and to smile through tears and red rimmed eyes, barely touching the food, unable to swallow the drink. Grief and horror choked him of his breath and for the first time, he realized his mistake. He was a dream dancer, someone that believed in every pastel colored daydream, it should have been him to pay the price.

I trust you.

And as the sun bled away, leaving him and the crew alone with their thoughts, as he stumbled into what used to be Finist’ bed, he felt like drowning in the cold moonlight, still whispering prayer upon prayer to whichever deity was willing to listen. No price was too high, nothing forbidden, just give him back the man he loved more than life itself.

Blinded by hands he would recognize everywhere, he shook in a grip that could not be gentler, crying silent tears of gratitude while the low timbre of his beloved’s voice whispered into his ear, warm breath and rough hair tickling his neck, more real than any dream could ever claim to be.

Let me tell you a tale from olden times.

Finist
There is no other, there never will
be. Only he, in his heart, in his mind,
after everything, Finist's secrets will
forever be save with him. Into his
grave he would take them, the
only wish he has was to be loved,
genuinely.

___

code & assets by archaic #19153

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