Sweetdust

Sweetdust's powerlust will one day be his undoing, but his crafty nature ensues that this day is far, far away. His specialty is meddling in magics largely left untouched by dragons who know better - if for no reason other than to say that he has. Don't look in his den, there are incredible horrors within.






There were many things that should be left alone; there were many skeletons that should remain sealed, no matter how desperately they clawed to be free. One such skeleton prowled through the empty space between Sweetdust's waking hours, sunken black eyes haunting him, watching him.

The beast almost looked like the Lightweaver. Suns above, the resemblance was striking. Nearly uncanny. Those spindly limbs, the great golden wings...All of it felt the same. There was a sickening sort of reverence that Sweetdust couldn't help but hold for the towering frame of the creature.

But that was no Lightweaver.

No, the monster that crept after Sweetdust in the deepest cover of shadows was nothing short of a false god, a horrifying experiment gone too far off of the rails of morality. It didn't offer any promise of hope, didn't seek to spread warmth or light among dragonkind as the Weaver did.

Hope was traded for despair and greed. The light was stolen, ripped from dragons that had meant no harm, drained from ancient, once-beautiful land, torn from the hearts and souls of the beast's own creators.

It knew nothing of love. Nothing of sorrow. Nothing of guilt or pain.

It knew nothing, for it could feel nothing. It was an endless black hole.

It devoured everything it could get its filthy talons on.
It devoured everything any dragon could ever love.
And, in his nightmares, it devoured Sweetdust, too.

He had lost count of the many nights he had been startled awake, lost count of the number of times his sanity had been questioned when others saw for themselves what the nightmares had reduced him to--a quivering mass of scales and bone, chilled to the core by something unspeakable.

What they thought didn't matter.

They'd never know what had happened in the ruins.

Lore by marqle