Yore

3000g for this bab he is never being yeeted too

Naomi -> Willow -> Evermore -> Me

Yore is a mixture of undeniable power, and the twisted touch of the entity known as the shade. He is manipulative, cruel, (in his eyes) is never at fault and only does things that benefit him and him alone. He respects his mother and his uncle, yet he does not worship the shade like they do, but rather embraces it and let’s it wonder his domain as it pleases. He does however, worship the royal lineage he has, and condemns his cousin for wanting to break free of the glorious power that runs in the family. Despite all of this, he does have a soft side for both his mates, and will try to cherish them with lavish gifts and romantic evenings on occasion.

Yores Lore Hatchery

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.:Offspring:.

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.:Background:.

Yore was not like many of the dragons that lived within the clan he called home. No, they were inferior to the type of dragon he was. A dragon with a lineage dropping with royalty and power. A lineage he held with high regard, and wore on his figurative sleeves. His great grandmother was known as the glitch queen, or queen of the dead. His grandmother, the only existing offspring of the queen, the strongest of her brood he figured. His mother, an avid worshipper of the shade and a follower of his uncles cult of shadows as he called it. He too wanted to be part of that cult, follow in his mother’s footsteps, and help his uncle taint the world with it. He looked up to his uncle after all, wanting to be just as cruel and powerful as him, ever since he was a newly hatched fae.

But how could he in this tiny form? His closest family were beasts of sheer size and power, but he inherited the weakest form. A small insignificant fae, could never dream to join the ranks of his uncle and mother. And reality was, he couldn’t. From the moment he could walk, yore tried to get stronger, fighting his brood mates any chance he got. Hunting down any beast clan warrior that got close to him. He fought with the best dragons he could find within the lair, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never match the power his opponents had. In the end, he was shunned for his weakness. A strange thing considering his great grandmother and grandmother were a faes, and even his mother used to be a fae. But even he knew that as a 4th generation, he blood was weak, and so was the power it contained.

For a while, Yore hid away on the outskirts of sorienth, too ashamed to face anyone for his weakness and his failure as a royal dragon. Hiding in the ice flight, a cold and desolate land, seemed like the perfect punishment. But as time passed by, he kept surviving. The harsh landscape, and the blistering cold winds of the mountains proved challenging, yet yore continued to survive, and adapt in the environment. He begun building his own lair of snow and rock, and trading with those he deemed inferior. He crafted his own tools, his own weapons, hunted his own food, and soon he noticed that his once weak body was growing stronger. He realised then and there that perhaps he could be as strong as the others.

Yore continued to live in the ice for a while. He begun training with the beast clan warriors he traded with, learning their techniques and mastering their skills. He learned from nearby dragon clans how to be a leader, and most important of all, he slowly learnt how utterly disgusting the world was.

Yore understood he grew up in a cruel family, strangely enough he enjoyed it. The cruelty of his parents and aunts and uncles allowed him to understand that dragons won’t always be there to catter to your every whim. You can’t expect everyone to love you, no. They taught him that dragons were hard to please, and he needed to earn their respect, whether by fear, power, or the strength of their mind.

But their cruelty was a blessing, unlike the blissful life he was witnessing within the dragon clans. Dragons mingling with any thing that got close, sharing their homes with creatures far below their regal stature, they lived life without fear, and without purpose. He had to admit it certainly wasn’t bad to live as they did, but it was not good either. Fear kept dragons strong, hardened their souls to withstand anything. Fear allowed the weak to be separated from the strong. It helped dragons survive. Fear of death alone makes a dragon so drastic things in order to continue to live. The dragons he saw didn’t have fear. They didn’t understand what it was like to not know if they’d live another day or die. Barely any of the clans did despite living in a frozen wasteland. It was amusing to yore, how pathetic they all looked as a result. But he didn’t care anymore. As of now these dragons were the ones teaching him how to live in dragon society, so as horrible as it was, he just had to grin and bare for now.

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It had been years since then. Yore had actually grown to enjoy dragon society despite his initial hatred. He changed his name, had made many friendships, and became a large help for several of the small dragon clans living in the tundra. He never truly forgot his roots, but for a while he didn’t care about it not recalled the specifics of his heritage, and it felt good. It felt good not to compare himself to his family, it felt good not to care about who he is or what he can and can’t do. Yore was content now.

Life was great for the young dragon. Eventually he settled by an ice lake clan. They helped him learn to hunt on the frozen shores, and in turn Yore taught them how to protect themselves when needed. It was a mutual companionship and both the clan and Yore hoped it would never end.

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.:Story:.

It was a nice sunny day out on the tundra, a crisp cold wind blew, but it wasn’t enough to pierce the layers of fur and leather that the clan meanders wore. No, thankfully they were nice and warm in their outfits, and they had the beast clans to thank for the idea. It’s funny how a simple observation, and conversation about clothes spark their large trading network and truce with the beast clans, but it was necessary.

A young fae muttered faintly as he spread his wings out, and shook off the snow and ice that had collected on them over night. Despite having spent months in the snow, he couldn’t quiet get used to how quickly he could get buried under the cold white stuff. It sent a shiver down his spine, both literally and figuratively, as he though of the possibility that perhaps he may die from it. He didn’t like to think about it, but due to his size it was a very big possibility.

As they fae slowly folded his wings, a deep voice rang out from behind him.
“Your up early, rough sleep?” The voice made the fae jump slightly, but he laughed a bit.

“No nothing like that. I felt the sun on my face and thought it would be time to rise.” He smiled up at the large guardian behind him, who simply chuckled.

“Very well. Go enjoy the morning sun, I’ll chat to you more during the breakfast feast.” The fae nodded, then waved to the much larger dragon before he trotted outside, using all 4 of his legs on the ground so that his weight was distributed evenly, thus stopping him from sinking into the snow. It seemed like such a small thing, but he was grateful the clan taught him how to walk here in the tundra. Many of the dragons did it, except for wildclaws. They were simply not designed for walking on all fours, but thankfully their size meant they couldn’t sink too far down, unlike him. He grumbled faintly at the thought. No, he wouldn’t think that way, not anymore. He may be small but Yore was strong. He could travel wherever he needed to be, perfectly fine regardless of his size.

With a small shake, the fae continued to walk for a little into the large clearing. The clan resided in a very large plains area right by a mountain, which almost completely circled around the camp. It was a smart location as the mountain side protected them from most of the harsh whether that came with the territory. The young fae smiled a little, then finally opened his wings and took flight, whisking around the air with a faint laugh. He had grown to love this.

With a small shake, the fae continued to walk for a little into the large clearing. The clan resided in a very large plains area right by a mountain, which almost completely circled around the camp. It was a smart location as the mountain side protected them from most of the harsh whether that came with the territory. The young fae smiled a little, then finally opened his wings and took flight, whisking around the air with a faint laugh. He had grown to love this, love flying about in the early morning sun, and riding the cold winds around the camp as he watched every dragon slowly begin to wake up.

He soon soared higher, trying to get up to one of the ledges of the mountain to sit and relax on. It wasn’t easy though as he was rather small, but he managed it in the end. With a sigh of relief he relaxed on that ledge, spreading out his wings to soak up the sun, and enjoying the view. After a few moments yore closed his eyes, and listened to the sounds of the world around him. That was until he heard a strange voice beside him.

You’ve forgotten who you are. it whispered. His eyes snapped open as he swivelled around to find the source of the voice.

“Hello? Who’s there?” He called out. But there was no one around. He was the only one on that mountain with no clear signs of any other life. Yore scowled lightly, but the voice returned.

Child of the dead, you have forgotten who you are. At this yores head snapped around to see who was talking, the sound was coming through his left ear, but again nobody was there.

“Child of the dead? I don’t know what your talking about.” It wasn’t a complete lie. The young fae vaguely remembered hearing the phrase thrown around when he was young, but it’s meaning was lost on him. The voice sounded more irritated the next it spoke, almost hissing at him now.

Lies. Are you not a child of the gate keeper? Gate Keeper. Another term that was familiar to the young dragon, but it’s meaning has long since been lost as it had been years since the dragon had heard it. At this point yore stopped trying to look for the owner of the voice, but rather tried to ignore them.

“I assure you, I do not know what you mean. Are you sure you don’t have the wrong drago-“ Before he could speak, there was a loud ear splitting screech. It was ringing in his skull, and no matter how much he tried to cover his ears, the sound never got duller.

Lies! All Lies! You know who you are. Soon you will understand. The voice rang in his head before it disappeared without a trace. Yore sat there in silence for a few moments just to be sure, before he murdered to himself, ears still ringing from the shrieking.

“What a strange encounter.” He muttered before he stood up and shook his body a little. “Gees, my heads still ringing from that” He glanced around one more time before flapping his wings and taking flight. “Still no sign of another dragon, maybe I imagined it?” Shaking his head, the small fae flew off in the direction of home, ready to join his clan in the breakfast feast. Behind him, a large dark coloured imperial took shape, watching the small figure disappear into the distance.

“He truly has forgotten.” A muttered sentence was heard as pale brown eyes emerged from the shadows of the mountain, and a large lanky frame of an imperial came into view. " This may prove troublesome."

Yore slowly made his way back to the clan, his mind wandering to the words that were whispering in his ears barely a few moments ago. Was he imagining the whole encounter? There was nobody else at the mountain, no signs of life aside from his shallowed breathes, so why was the voice so clear in his mind? The more he thought, the weirder it got and Yore decided it was not worth focusing on. He shook his head slightly then sped off down towards the clearing, inwardly cursing at himself as he noticed the dragons were already gathered by the feasting rock. He took a deep breath in as he hastily landed nearby, then hopped up onto his spot at the feast. The large guardian who had talked to him that morning chuckled lightly at the fae and quirked a brow at him.

"You're later today Steppe, what happened? Get stuck in a tree?" Yore shook his head slightly and grinned at his companions joking tone, cringing slightly at the name despite using it for years.

"I'm small but im not completely useless. No, just got caught up in the beautiful scenery you know?" He smiled up at his friend, then looked up at the sky. "It's strange to say, but these ice caps are beautiful." The guardian let out a deep throaty chuckle as he turned to watch the clan leader step to the table.

"It's not strange. The tundra can be a captivating place." he tilted his head slightly to Yore and smiled. Nearby the tiny fae who ran the clan coughed lightly to get everyone's attention. The clan slowly went silent and looked at the fae as she opened her arms wide to adress the large group.

"Welcome everyone to our annual feast. It has been a wonderful year, the the harvest has been rather bountiful. We've managed to strengthen ties with the nearby beast clans, and it is our hope that next year we will be able to work together on larger trading ports and perhaps live together in time." She smiled a little. "That aside, this year would not have been possible without the work you all put in. From the gaurds, to the farmers. You all are the reason we are able to enjoy this meal today, and thrive together for another year. So thank you all, and I hope you enjoy the fruits of your labour." The dragons all cheered, letting out small roars of appreciation, before digging in to the roasted meals in front of them. Yore still didn't understand why this feast was such a big thing in the clan, but he was always excited to see it come to life. Watching the dragons around him chat happily with each other, and enjoy themselves after a year of hard work was heart warming, and comforting. He doubted he'd ever get used to it, but was grateful for every year they could celebrate.

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As the feast drew to a close, Yore got ready to start the day properly. Grabbing his satchel and his battling stick, tying it to his back as he rushed to meet up with the other dragons. There was a variety of dragons there waiting and laughing with each other, and as soon as Yore arrived, they smiled and waved him over.

“No need to rush steppe, We have plenty of time before we need to head out. Besides, we’re still waiting for Soot and Azure.” A green and grey fae mentioned with a chuckle. Behind him a much larger snapper piped up, straightening his red vest a little as he spoke.

“Those two really need to learn to be more punctual.” He sighed. The others all nodded and muttered in agreement but that didn’t deter their good moods.

“Aww who cares, they’re still hard workers, and bring a tonne of energy to these hunts.” The group nodded in agreement at the dark coloured fae with red wings who pipped up from the back of the crowd, a large grin on her face. Yore couldn’t help but laugh with them. It was true, the siblings were horrible at time management, but what they lacked in that regard, they made up for with how well they worked together, and how well they were able to get the job done. The reality was though, that the clan was all the same. Everyone had their flaws, yet everyone worked together so well. It was nice. It was really nice, and it filled the fae with warmth to think about it. But it didn't last long as a loud voice called out to the group, followed by a slightly higher pitched and more panicked one.

“We’re here! We’re here!”
“Sorry we’re so late!”

The group turned towards the large mud coloured guardian and a tiny pale fae who was sitting on her head. The group waved them over as the green fae spoke up,

“Took ya long enough, you guys ready to get started?” The duo beamed.

“Always.” was their reply. The snapper scoffed as he tried to hide his smile before stomping off lightly due to his size.

“Then let’s move it, it’ll be nightfall before we make it out of camp at this rate.” He called out to the group of dragons, and soon the group of 10 dragons followed, chatting with each other as they began their trek to the forests just outside the camp.

Then Yore got bit by a shadow demon and turns evil the end. I give up. Final word count: 2888. Goodnight.


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(To be added later)

He wanted power over the dead. He wanted to control life and death itself. And what better way to do that than the darkness that layed dormant in every modern dragon?