Milasin
(#58406210)
[G2 WB] The Jade-touched Spellcaster
Familiar
Shadow Serpent
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Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.57 m
Wingspan
6.54 m
Weight
785.67 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Eldritch
Noxtide
Noxtide
Fog
Peacock
Peacock
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 8 Skydancer
EXP: 5033 / 16009
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
GENERATION 2
M I L A S I N 
GRETEEL'S LINEThe Jade-Touched Spellcaster
 Nightcaller Spellcaster Generation 2 Those that possess the ability to harness magic are the masters of the natural world. Their bodies are powerful vessels of magical energy that act as an extension of their own self. Like Peyton, their powers are downright lethal. Many Nightcallers perform such magic without a second thought, as it is quickly replenishing and they are hardly without their magic. Though not as physically strong or fast as their Reaper counterparts, the Spellcasters tend to have more protective spells in their arsenal and are the masters of defense. However, this immense amount of power can come at a heavy price, and Nightcallers may very well destroy their body and mind beyond repair if they call upon too much magic at once, or do not pace themselves. The mind is usually the first thing to go unsound.  Shadow is the most common element for a Nightcaller. Much like Peyton, they are believed to have been blessed by the Shadowbinder and are artfully cunning in their own right. Those that possess the element of Shadow are nefarious and secretive, getting their claws into all manner of deadly trickery.
"If it scares you, it might be a good thing to try. 
Quote Here |
The dawn drew near, but The Pale Mistress still sat lost in thought. Only as the sun’s first rays pierced the horizon did she allow herself to return to her physical body and relish the warmth and light the new day brought her. It was time to reflect on what she saw. ~ “I cannot stay here for any longer, father,” Milasin told the older skydancer, his soft voice betraying a small hint of tremor. It was a decision he had thought of very carefully, even after his older sister had done all she could to convince him to stay back with the Clan Umbra. “You are our little brother, Sin,” Teysa had told him. “Who would take father’s place after we’re gone? It simply must be you.” He didn’t have an answer to that, but on the day their sibling, Siljana, was to fly and remain at Civitas Aira, she had told him, “You do what you need to do for yourself, Mimi.” She perhaps was his favorite sibling, and as she was leaving for good, he knew that he didn’t completely loathe the baby nickname she gave him; he thought he’d miss it terribly after all. Siljana had wrapped her wings around him tightly, and whispered, “You’ll know it within yourself if you should stay or go.” As Teysa busied herself with practicing her birth-given magics under their parents’ tutelage and lessened her attention on him, he felt his own energies wobble at the sheer strength and call of both Witchborne and Nightcaller. He turned to his cousin, Noro, but took care not to get in the way of his potions and studies. Having access to the clan’s library and scrolls, with Shikra and Rafe’s blessings, and someone to discuss his findings with were enough. He even got used to their uncle Okkervil’s habits even if the ridgeback barely talked or even acknowledged his presence. Staying with them helped him feel at ease, even if he heard a few of the clan’s members talk about him. Another odd one, that dragon. At least he’s not as weird as his uncle. Maybe there’s hope for him yet. It’s gone if he too practices alchemy. He tried his best not to notice them. He had better things to do after all. Milasin knew his lineage was a volatile one. He and his siblings were born on a Wolf moon, his card the Ace of Swords. Though the Nightcallers were deeply interconnected with the Shadowbinder, the Witchborne in its own bloodright held up its own tenacity not to be influenced by the shadows. He was an Obscurus Witchborne, he knew that too. It sounded like two double negatives that would cancel each other out- but the jade was growing. It began when Teysa held weekly sparring matches, not only to exercise themselves physically, but to test and practice magical theories. It had looked like both siblings were evenly matched in prowess as both were spellcasters, but Milasin bore the brunt of his sister’s volatile energy, especially when her dreamwalks had wielded no other victims for her to play with. She was always the offensive, and in turn, Milasin always had to go on defensive. Her mood was sour that day, her attacks vicious. Her flurry of blows brought Milasin to the edge of their sparring den, his shield pulsing unsteadily after each impact. He tried calling out to his older sister that he would yield, but just as his shield winked out, Teysa hit him hard on his chest. Milasin’s body electrocuted with pain, the sounds of his sister shrieking in horror blurring in and out as he felt himself crumple to the ground, fainting. He woke to the clan’s Runemage, Cassiel, fussing over him, healing runes floating around them. “You gave your sister such a fright, you know,” the nocturne commented. “She fled to your father as soon as you collapsed, and they brought you here. I have stabilized your wellbeing, but that, I have no idea about that. It’s as stubborn as a curse.” Milasin drew his eyes over his body as the other dragon left him. Chased across his skin were the traces of jade, gleaming and pulsing after his own heartbeat. Was it growing? Would it spread? He didn’t know. He flexed his claws and got up, tested his mobility whether he could still move or even fly with this crystal shooting through his body. He could still do both, thankfully. After the incident, Milasin spent his time recuperating and reading up on possible countermeasures against the growth. He even confided to Noro that if he couldn’t “fix” his condition, he would have to leave and find someone to remove it from him. Teysa had also made herself scarce after the sparring incident, and even though the other dragons told him excuses that the other skydancer was just busy attending to other matters, he knew she was saying sorry in her own way: though she was a dangerous dreamwalker, he always knew it was her visiting his dreams and guarding them against nightmares the whole time. Bonds between siblings could never be broken after all. His father, Israfel, regarded him for a few moments. “Is that what you really want?” he asked. Milasin nodded. The other skydancer said nothing else as he helped packed his youngest’s things. After that, he walked him to the outreaches of the clan where another skydancer stood as if waiting. Milasin was struck with recognition: though they both had the same wing color, he knew he was Witchborne as well. “Our grandmother sends for you,” the other said. “She has heard your plight, and though she does not have a solution, she hopes that whatever you study under her wing would be enough as if it is it’s remedy.” His name was Glaedyrr, his cousin. Milasin was elated, not even disheartened at all about whether he would find the cure or not, but more for the opportunity to be with his grandmother, a dragon whose name was both treated with reverence and awe. He bid his father goodbye, and lifted his wing in salute to the clan that bore him all these years. As he and Glaedyrr took to the skies, he turned back one last time—and saw his sister lifting her wing towards him. May the winds bear you well to your destination, little brother, he heard her whisper. ~ Greteel leaned into her mate’s wings as they enclosed around her. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was him as he helped her to the balcony where morning sunlight was chasing away the dark of the night. She opened her eyes as soon as the wind ruffled her feathers. “Our children are flying home,” she told him. |
ACE OF SWORDS
~ Magic swells Like a rising tide Filling from the toes To the top of the head It fills like a void, Like an eclipse Wake and alive and a dark Burning thing You bring the night down With a shout A twist of a wrist, As natural as breathing This is a song as close As your own breath A howl that only you could ever Call your own This is what you were made for This your purpose, your air Made up of darkness And thorns Of roses And the call of death In the night This is your lineage Your legacy. |
 Art by me |
LexiePiper wrote:
Hhhhhh Milasin!!! I don't even know how you got those colours and that apparel to work together but you did and it's so perfect??? How??? You're some sort of colour wizard! Top notch apparel and accent choice again, with a lot going on but not too much to feel overcrowded. I particularly love the splashes of green that draw your eyes across the whole dragon, and it's super clever how you've layered the pendants and collar to seem lie one ornate piece of jewelry! So cool!
Lieselotte wrote:
Milasin has such a nice aesthetic. Dark but with the light notes thrown in. That jade accent is so pretty and it gives him some extra brightness. I have a weakness for antlers, I just really like the naturey feel they give dragons. His base colors are dark and gloomy, but you have masterfully put all that color in and he feels more lively.
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halcy wrote on 2024-11-04 03:40:28:
last but not least - ducked into your hibden and had to admire the lovely Milasin, again another ridiculously smart use of accents and apparel. what do you mean you put a bright green accent on a black dragon and it turned into something spooky, like this is not something I would have ever thought of and I'm delighted to see it now! super, super cool - the better version of opal, I daresay. I love how the dusky rose adds an extra layer to his blacks so we've got multiple colours in play too!
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