Nataku

He grew up watching his father and siblings be a puppet to the Shade.

He grew up watching his mother be the puppeteer, pulling the strings with whispers of incantations and curses.

He grew up, unphased by it all, for he was Shadeborne. And his mother hated that, hated the fact that she had passed down the touch of the Shade to her son through his birth. She hated it because she couldn’t use him like a pawn, like his father before him. This is what caused him to be cast out, and he hadn’t felt more blessed.

He remembered watching his mother prancing through the halls of their ice castle, and is father followed her loyally, eyes blank and head low, like he wasn’t even aware of his own existence.
It infuriated the skydancer as he watched them get closer and closer and closer.

Soon enough, his parents stood before him.

“Nataku.” His mother had said coldly. “Stand attention, you have work to do.”

Nataku merely stared at here, eyes equally as frigid as her regard to him. “No.” He spat.

“Nataku. Stand. You have dragons to assassinate.” She snarled.

“No. I’m sick of this hell you’ve put me in.” Nataku said, staying seated where he was. “I don’t want to be a mere tool for you to keep using.”

That’s all Nataku and his siblings were. Tools. Tools to pursuade, tools to intimidate, tools to kill. Tools for Melliodora on her quest to take over the icefield. Why else would she make a powerful warlord kill his own cabal and then take him under her command?

Nataku watched as his mother’s eyes widened. She tried to bore into him with her glare, to encapture his soul as she began to recite her incantations. Nataku only stared back, listening to the nonsense that spewed from her mouth.

“It’s not working, mother.” Nataku spat in the middle of her recital.

She just started to speak louder and it got to the point where she began to start screaming. Nataku watched as his father moved next to her, standing a little upright and giving Nataku a look of confusion. Nataku was drawing so much of his mother’s concentration that her hold on his father was faltering. He also realized that his father didn’t recognize him at all. Nataku’s mother held Sativa so far under, he had no idea who his own children were. He probably didn’t even know where he was.
“I cannot be forced into slavery!” Nataku yelled over his mother, getting her to shut up her insidious babling.

When she fell to silence, Sativa went back into his zombie-like state and Melliodora stared at her son with a face twisted in offence and rage.

“Can’t you smell the Shade in your own son? Weren’t you ever aware I was Shadeboren?” Nataku spat. “You can’t control me! I am already corrupted!”

“Then get the hell out!” Melliodora shrieked. “You are no longer welcome here!”

Nataku spent weeks on his own in the icefields, not stopping to sleep or eat until he left them for warmer sands. He wanted to put as much space between him and his mother, a witch that banished him because he wouldn’t be her slave.

He traveled to the Starfall Isles, finding himself in a bustling clan of dragons, happy to spend the days lazing around or toiling in small hobbies. The hatchlings crowded around a stand manned by an Imperial and Coatl distributing smoothies and fruijuice, a sparkling guardian was flirting with some ladies, a tundra was reciting scripture dramatically, a mirror was hauling home her kill with her fae friend fluttering around her, a skydancer was working in her art gallery, and there were excited conversations everywhere. Not one of them cared that a stranger was walking through, or that he looked awful from a lack of sleep, or that he smelled of Shade. Not a single one cared.

For the first time in his life, Nataku felt peace. Even moreso when a few of the locals said a simple hi and greeted him.

Then, he smelled it. A pungent scent of Shade that rivaled his own mother’s. He turned his head swiftly to see the dark imperial standing behind him, staring at him with piercing yellow eyes. She was dressed in a mantle of thorns, banners of silk, and amethyst jewelry, which was odd considering her bright magenta colors next to the stark darkness of her body, despite her dulled scales.

“Another little Shadeling, haunted by the shadows of his past? Or maybe he’s accepted them at last?” She said, cracking a grin.

Nataku felt distrust for this imperial bubble up in his throat as soon as she began to speak. It was odd to find a dragon that rhymed, much less emphasize words in their rhymes.

“No.” Nataku said simply. “I’ve left it all behind me.”

“Ah, I see. So, left behind the Shade have thee? But I don’t think that’s possible young one, once the Shade inhabits, it’s won.” The Imperial responded.

Nataku snorted. “I don’t care. I was tired of the hell I was in and left.”

“Don’t care do ye? Well why don’t you come with me? There’s a few more like you, hiding in the shadows.” She replied.

“Nah, I don’t trust rhymers.” Nataku said, turning away.

“Then let me speak more naturally,” The Imperial with almost a completely different voice. “I want to personally invite you to meet the rest of us that’ve been allowed to live here in this clan.”

Nataku turned back to the Imperial. “I still don’t think I trust you…”

“Then don’t trust me, then trust the others.” The Imperial said. “Or how about I introduce myself. I’m Seriadne, the representative for the Shade-touched in this clan. They’ve been graciously allowed to live in this clan under my care.”

Nataku looked at the Imperial, still not trusting her fully, but he found it interesting. A Shade-touched dragon representing a minority in a clan? Caring for them?

“Fine, Seriadne, I’m Nataku. Take me to the others.” Nataku relented.

Seriadne smiled widely, giving a little too much tooth, and led him to a large structure build just at the edge of the clan’s village. It stood at the treeline leading to the depths of the Starwood Strand, and looked like a gothic manor. Nataku crinkled his nose as they got closer, a slight smell of decay hitting him.

“Oh, forgive the stench.” Seriadne said, even though she hadn’t seen Nataku’s reaction. “I practice Necromancy in my free time.”

Nataku stared at her back. Necromancy?

Seriadne led him into the fortress, where he saw three other dragons milling about. A red pearlcatcher was napping in a plush, large bed; A large male ridgeback was standing guard near the entrance, and Nataku couldn’t tell if he was looking at him or not with his orb-like eyes; and another, more silver -colored pearlcatcher was writing down notes at a desk.

Seriadne stepped in behind him and the door creaked shut.

“Welcome home, Shadeling.”