Arcanum
(#57419269)
envy, the thief of joy
Familiar
Gladegift Ambassador
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.76 m
Wingspan
5.77 m
Weight
866.04 kg
Genetics
Banana
Poison
Poison
Obsidian
Shimmer
Shimmer
Forest
Smoke
Smoke
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
| __._ |
Tales for Heinous Hatchlings __________________________________ ______________ chapter 5 
“Jealous?” Arcanum barked, then forced that ugly sound into a chuckling, wheezing laugh that rose higher and higher in pitch as she struggled to maintain a facade of amusement, cordiality. When no other dragon laughed, Arcanum broke off, composing herself and laying a direct gaze on the coatl across from her. “What could you possibly mean, jealous?” The coatl gave an idle wave of their claws. “Oh, Arca dear, I didn’t mean anything of it—I admire you, actually, for how you continue to contest and compete, tenacity in every wingbone, I’m sure, even as you continue, without fail, to never win nearly as many ribbons as the rest of us.” They pouted to their followers and they nodded seriously back, muttering and tittering to another. Arcanum’s grip tightened on her glass. “Jealous,” she repeated, breaking in again. Everyone fell silent again, eyeing her, waiting for the chance to laugh. Arcanum dragged her face up into a smile. “Hardly. Who could be jealous of you, sweet Ramistice, upon seeing your ribbon display? The only one I truly envy is your carpenter. You must provide such good business, needing all those shelves. And pedestals. And the glass fronts to the cabinets, as well! The magicked lights to sparkle and spin—” “Yes,” Ramistice snapped. “I ensure only the best quality of work—” “—for only the best of ribbons! It is as you deserve,” Arcanum said. At the coatl’s tight-lipped glare, she smirked and set her glass aside. “Good night to you all.” And shaking silently with wrath, Arcanum stalked out of the dining party. Later, in the privacy of her own room, evening gown cast aside, the skydancer could pace and rage aloud, cursing Ramistice and Valla and Tevrin and all the rest over and over again, wishing and praying the Plaguebringer would exact vengeance on them in her name. “It’s hardly fair!” Arcanum snarled, sweeping her arm across the top shelf of her own ribbon cabinet, knocking the yellows and occasional reds to the floor. “They had private tutors from hatching!” Sweep of the second shelf. “Sponsors and patrons! Support teams and fans!” Third shelf, once so neatly lined up, scattered haphazard on the floor. “They don’t know what it is, to sweat, to bleed, for the contest!” Fourth and final of her pitiful, wretched shelves. These Arcanum seized in her claws and tore to shreds, rending the silken folds and veneered symbols to ragged tatters. Arcanum stared at the ruined and scattered ribbons at her feet, panting, every muscle and tendon in her body tensed and shaking. Not even a scrap of that coveted, indomitable blue. She hissed at the miserable sight, at the sweat damping her feathers, the anger still arcing through her veins. With a howl she ramped up and grabbed the cabinet itself, digging into the glossy dark wood. “I’ll bring them down with my own claws!” And with a mighty heave, wrenched the case free of its hooks into the wall, and brought it crashing down to the ground with a tremendous, ear-splitting, terminal CRUNCH. Right over her own head. Her competitors were correct. She just didn’t move fast enough. ~ Ramistice visited her in the healer’s den, of course. Arcanum lay in a nest wrapped from head to tail in bandages, jaws splinted tight, unmoving. Allowing the coatl to sit at her side, prattling on about the latest meet the skydancer had missed, and read to Arcanum their get-well card of thinly-veiled insults and sniggers, and set on the small table next to her head, a very thoughtful gift. “Some color might brighten up the place,” Ramistice said sweetly, and sauntered out of the room. Arcanum could only turn her head at slow increments to watch them go, leaving her with the view of blue-petalled flowers sitting prettily in a vase of burnished gold. Her inarticulate screech of furor was muffled, yet still echoed ‘round the den.
| ___ |
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Exalting Arcanum to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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