Archon

Berry / Crocodile / Splash
Olive / Raspberry / Fire
Cornflower / Auburn / Carmine
Eldritch / Strawberry / Buttercup




They almost called him grave, for that was where he came from. An unerring will to return to his mother, to serve her, his spirit urged his body to remain where normally it would have faltered. Slowly he inched through the forgotten paths, the ancient alcoves that decorated the earth far below the blacksand annex, even as his body failed him. And yet, he still moved onwards and upwards. Back to the warmth he knew.

When he finally found the heated cauldrons that bespoke of life, everything had changed. His brothers and sisters, gone. His mother, quiet. Had he failed them all?

Then smaller beings dotted around his fading visage, fretting over what they saw. He couldn't remember what they said. Did he even understand them? Everything was so heavy...

The next flicker of light caught his deep auburn eyes, turning his head to the source, below him. Immersed in the Emberglow Hearth, the edges of the pit surrounded with dragons of all types and sizes. Some looking onward from behind the healers as they focused their energies on bringing this ancient being back to life.

His rotting skin began to harden, marring his complexion of perfection that his mother had gifted him. His wings emulated the power of the fiery rebirth that coated him, and with a powerful roar he called to his mother. "Finally, I have returned!"

It was only when he spread his wings did he witness the scene before him. The hearth was rife with life and joy. Eggs... Not just any eggs... But the eggs of his brothers and sisters were being heated and warmed in these pools. Some were even hatching, their cries reaching the sky as they too, called to life, and the mother that gave them their flame. And his half-dead heart beat, knowing that this was what he came back for. His ancient longing for love as he refused to leave the realm of Sornieth was not gone, but instead dispersed among all of her children. Flamecaller's blessing was here.

As he settled, a pearlcatcher matron with similar colors gently tapped at his wing arm, smiling at him as they both looked across the pools. "You have done well, ancient one. Do you see her? She is the flame in all her children..." she spoke softly, and the ancient rumbled softly in agreement. "I... Must serve my mother," he croaked, his windpipe rattling from the disuse. "Then help us serve her. Be the one the others aspire to be. The living flame," she advised, a dazzling gleam of inspiration showing from her tempered gaze.

That is how I became Archon. I am the in between. The connection of the past and the future. The emissary of devotion to the blessed Flamecaller, the everlasting fire that burns in our hearts.