Obscure

Born in the depths of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, this dragon lived his youth feeding in darkness. He snatched at any source of light, the bio-luminescence of the deep an affront to his sensitive vision. He did not know he was different for a long time.

As he grew, the scarce life of the deep could no longer sustain him. He began to climb within the waters, encountering new creatures, new things on which to feed.

He did not meet another dragon for years. It is speculated that this was what made him unbalanced. Others suspect he was hatched that way.

The confrontation with a dragon from the surface was strange. He recognized himself in the creature before him. It was gentle, not aggressive like the ragged-toothed Threshers, and not mindless food as the Nebula Floaters that practically drifted into his open mouth. This other dragon was just as curious of him. It started to visit regularly but could never stay long. It needed air to breathe.

Eventually, curiosity brought Obscure to the surface. It was daylight, aggressive sun assaulting him. He drew air into his lungs for the first time, unsure of the mechanics, but instinct making sure he took in the oxygen. It tasted enticing, pure, like a new flavor of food. Delighted, he kept breathing, feeding on it, making himself dizzy.

It was then that he saw the dragon of his acquaintance, the first and only friend he would have. It looked surprised to see him and flew down close on its wings. Obscure noted this, as he had before only used his wings to steer in the water. There was all kinds of possibilities opening before him.

His friend began to make a strange sound, a chattering, from its mouth. It was horrible, irritating noise. Mouths were for feeding, were they not? The other newness was welcomed, but this? This would not do.

The sun blinding him, Obscure followed the terrible noise and snatched at it with his mouth. Blood poured into his mouth, dragonblood, an oily, fiery taste. He did not enjoy it, but the fear, the fear oozed from his friend like a delicious river. Obscure kept his jaw locked, scratched at the air, and held onto the parts he snatched. The feeding was quick.

He kept hold of what remained of his friend as he stretched his wings into the air for the first time. They knew what to do, flapping hard and bringing him to the sky.

Obscure made a den and kept his friend there. Soon his friend was nothing more than a pile of bones. By then, the dragons in the surrounding area knew of Obscure, that he was feeding and taking lives with abandon. A few brave dragons followed him home one night. They sprang on him.

That they were brave did not mean they were not afraid. Obscure fed on them, even as they hurt him. When they realized he was healing just as fast as he was being injured, their fear increased.

But his eyes, Obscure's multigaze that served him well enough in the water, it was a weakness easy to exploit. The brave dragons aimed for them. In a last effort of survival, Obscure dove into the bones of his friend, burrowing deep. When he emerged, they were fitted like armor, protecting him. His friend had always been so kind.

Needless to say, Obscure lived through the ordeal unlike those brave souls who fought him. They did not lose their lives in vain, for Obscure did leave, moving from territory to territory, until finally setting in the Scarred Wasteland. His exploits are easily hidden in the harshness of the Plague lands. He fits in well with his murky colors and scales that are perpetually covered in a slime that smells like mud from the bottom of the ocean. He emerges mostly at night.

He is dangerous on every level and is not to be trusted.