Atria
(#61661417)
eastern pillar // she/her
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Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Nocturne
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.46 m
Wingspan
5.78 m
Weight
620.05 kg
Genetics
Bronze
Crystal
Crystal
White
Facet
Facet
White
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Nocturne
EXP: 3971 / 5545
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
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❝Oh, Artemas? Not much of a talker, is he? Not that I mind. From what he tells me, he likes to listen to me talk, anyway. We don't get a lot of time together, though. It's nothing to do with me not wanting to spend time with him or anything. It's just that the Archive comes first. I guess I'm lucky that he understands that, and feels the same way. I don't really know what he does around here, though. He doesn't mind showing me, and I've seen some of the transcripts he's working on in his office, but there's way too much alchemical jargon for me to get anything out of it. That's fine, though. As long as he's happy doing what he does, I don't mind one bit.❞
--━ ◦ ENCHANTER // LOVER ◦ ━━--
● // Atria's lover and partner. ● // Artemas serves as the head of the Alchemical Subdivision of the Archival Division, a job that he shoulders begrudgingly. He views it less as a reflection of his own qualification and more as an indication that the Archive is lacking in the proper staff to occupy the position, no matter how much Atria or his Archival colleagues might assure him otherwise. ● // Neither Artemas nor Atria has ever wanted children. Neither of them have the time to set aside to raise a child of their own, and besides, their hearts are full enough with each other and their individual passions. Since having made this decision, Artemas and Atria's promise to one another has always been to look after one another above all else, knowing that they both have a tendency to neglect their personal wellbeing in favour of the pursuit of further work or the improvement of one skill or another. Where Artemas ensures that Atria gets her rest, Atria protects Artemas from himself when she can. ● // Artemas and Atria's relationship began as a result of Atria finding ways to get under the quiet Archivist's skin in an attempt to reveal his more impulsive, more passionate side. In the end, she found that this facet of him could not be provoked out of him, but rather could only be observed when Artemas was at his most focused, buried beneath a mess of scrolls in his pristinely-kept office.
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--━━━━━━ ⬤ PREVIEW ━━━━━━━━━━━━-- There are few with a spirit as ripe and rich with determination as Atria, whose bull-headed attitude towards most things makes her a valiant warrior, if a persistent one. And yet, despite displaying a boundless energy and an urgent drive for personal progress, she seems perfectly content with her position, where she guards the main gates of the Archive against any who might seek to inflict harm upon the edifice or its occupants alongside her colleague, Inna. The contrast between the two defenders is immediately apparent. Atria makes for a headstrong presence with a wry, sarcastic attitude, carrying herself in a far more open, casual manner than her fellow guard, while Inna is quiet and careful, more of an observer than a participant when any interaction with the outside world is required. From a first glance, Atria might seem disdainful of Inna, rarely acknowledging her in front of others, but this is hardly due to a dislike towards her companion. Rather, Atria and Inna have crafted a bond through their work together, and, arguably, understand one another better than any other at the Archive does. Atria knows that their dynamic works best when she functions as a distraction while Inna passively assesses the danger or character of their latest encounter. And, in turn, Inna knows that Atria grows annoyed when left out of a conversation for too long, particularly one that she feels she should be a part of, and Inna is all too content to leave the talking to her partner. Because of the nature of her work, Atria is very rarely seen wandering the halls of the Archive not because she isn't allowed any breaks, but rather because, more often than not, she chooses not to take any. In her own words, she doesn't want to miss out on any of the action. However, in the event that she grows weary and requires time to rest, she tends to sleep in her lover's office, in the Archival wing. Artemas himself is not always there, but he knows of his partner's tendency to nap on his couch, and the door will always open be for her. Given this, however, Atria is generally not very approachable, as she devotes her time to her duty first and foremost, her health second, and her lover third, leaving little room for anything or anyone else.
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--━━━━━━ ⬤ HISTORY ━━━━━━━━━━━━-- Atria was born into a cult devoted to the worship of the Blightchaser, also commonly referred to as Calamity Herself. A false idol whispering of protection against disease, of blight for all who dare to shirk her divinity, she was the first to inspire Atria to become something, alongside the High Priestess, who told Atria of the Blightchaser and pushed her to pursue that which she thought would be best to offer the Calamitite. In time, Atria elected herself Champion of the Blightchaser, teaching herself how to fight and how to defend herself. After all, amongst the members of the cult, there were none in any similar roles. Those devoted to the Calamitite were often mages or herbalists, masters of mystic arts who knew nothing of martial weapons or how to use them. Atria felt needed, and felt noble for the role that she'd taken on. But then the Blightchaser's claims proved false as the cult was beset by a most aggressive plague which eventually took the lives of many of Atria's fellows, effectively sending the cult into a state of crazed panic as they bleakly searched for an answer as to why their goddess betrayed them such. The High Priestess found hers in Atria herself, claiming that the Champion's continued health was suspicious; perhaps she herself was the source of the illness, the deliverer of the Blightchaser's doom, and that her banishment would take with it this plague. And who was Atria to defy the words of the Calamity? She wandered for awhile, stripped of purpose and honour, until she eventually came upon the Archive by sheer luck. She collapsed before she could get anywhere near the stairs, before she could even lay eyes upon the building, but the guard on shift at the time, Xyza, showed her mercy, and brought her inside. Atria awoke disoriented and confused, and was quickly brought before one of the Sages to determine if she would be allowed to stay, and, if so, what role she would take on. She would much later find out that her case was unique enough that the Second Mistsage stepped in to see her in the place of the Eighth, who usually handles any newcomers that choose to enter the Archive. Though resistant at first, all it took was a sparring session with the at-the-time Captain of the Guard, Lachlan, to convince Atria that a life at the Archive could be just as fruitful as the one she'd lived previously, if not more so. In time, Lachlan took her on as his student, and she developed something of a rivalry with Xyza, the one who'd saved her that very first night, though their relationship became less thorny over time. Eventually, it came time for Lachlan to hand over his position as Captain to another, and Atria and Xyza's rivalry reached its peak as the two fended for the title behind the scenes in a week-long mission to constantly one-up one another. In the end, however, no matter how much Atria had accomplished, she was passed over in favour of Xyza, whose more level-headed attitude made her more fit for the job. But perhaps as a boon to her younger equal, Xyza soon promoted Atria to the position of Eastern Pillar, one that she has held proudly ever since.
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❝My old mentor, yes. So many others admire him. I wouldn't call myself special for looking up to him, as well. But I always felt like he understood me better than anyone else, like he knew every move I would make before I did. And when I first got here, I was so lost. It was a comfort, that. That feeling that someone was confident in your path. I'll always be thankful to him for that.❞
--━ ◦ BODYGUARD // MENTOR ◦ ━--
● // Atria's mentor, as well as the closest thing she ever had to a father figure upon joining the Archive. ● // Lachlan's reputation amongst the occupants of the Archive is quite far-reaching. Nearly everyone who now calls themselves a member of the Guard has undergone some level of training with the assistance of Lachlan, despite the fact that he gave up the title of Guard Captain several years ago. Even so, amongst the warriors of the Archive, Lachlan is a much beloved figure for the gentle, understanding way he treats his students and the way he takes the time to get to know each and every individual that he teaches. ● // Though Lachlan denies it, Atria suspects that he had something to do with her promotion to Eastern Pillar following the decision to make Xyza Guard Captain in his stead.
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❝Xyza, that old bat. She needs to relax more. Her job stresses her out more than she'll ever admit. And I get it, sure, but I wish she could just learn to take it easy, like the rest of us.❞
-- ◦ GUARD CAPTAIN // FRIEND ◦ ━--
● // A fellow pupil of Lachlan, and Atria's rival turned friend. ● // Known under the title of Captain of the Guard, Xyza's relationship with Atria is, at a first glance, almost hostile. It is characterized by backhanded compliments and snide remarks, and one would think that the two hate each other. Indeed, they used to. But since Xyza and Atria's respective promotions, their bond has softened into something more amicable, and though they retain their tendency to mouth off at one another, it now comes from a place of friendship rather than one of malice. ● // Towards the beginning of Atria's stay at the Archive, she developed something of a crush on Xyza, and set about provoking her just to earn her attention. This is mainly what set their rivalry on its course.
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--━━━━━━ ◦ ROLE ◦ ━━--
● // EASTERN PILLAR The Eastern Pillar is to stand on the east side of the Archival gates and watch for intruders and visitors, ensuring the Archive's safety from any with malicious intentions.
--━━━━━ ◦ ORIGINS ◦ ━━--
● // BLIGHTCHASER CULT Atria was raised amongst the ranks of a cult worshipping a false idol calling themselves the Blightchaser, a being who was said to keep away all disease. This proved incorrect when the cult was wiped out by a plague at the beginning of Atria's adulthood.
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--━━ ◦ ORIENTATION ◦ ━━--
● // PANSEXUAL Atria is attracted to all genders. For a time, she even had a crush on her friend-turned-rival, Xyza.
--━━━ ◦ PRONOUNS ◦ ━━--
● // SHE/HER Atria identifies as a cisgender woman, and uses she/her/hers pronouns.
--━━━━━━━ ◦ AGE ◦ ━━--
● // TWENTY-FIVE Atria's journey is only just beginning, and she has all the more energy for it, an energy that she puts towards her passion to become the greatest warrior at the Archive.
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--━━━━━━ ⬤ OTHER RELATIONSHIPS ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━--- ● // INNA As the Western Pillar, Inna is Atria's counterpart. Though she wouldn't necessarily call Inna a friend, the two have a deep mutual understanding of how they work, and they've developed a unique bond as a result, nearly able to predict one another's moves before they make them. On more than one occasion, when fending off some manner of beast, Inna has saved Atria's life, and she, Inna's. ● // MALAKHIM Malakhim's devotion to chronicling all that they can about any religions or theological ideas they encounter has made them a thorn in Atria's side ever since they joined the Archive. Atria herself speaks as little as she can of her past with the Blightchaser Cult, but Malakhim is persistent about cornering her when they can to attempt to extract any tiny fact or curt answer from her. As a result of this, Atria quite resents this particular Archivist. ● // MERIDIA The Second Mistsage is mysterious to all, Atria included. However, since learning that Meridia's introducing her to the Archive was a unique case, Atria has felt connected to the Sage, though perhaps the feeling is one-sided. She can hardly approach them to find out, after all. Nobody calls on the Sages. They call on you. ● // UMBRA Umbra appreciates Atria, whom she sees frequently due to her role as guide, and Atria, in turn, is very curious about Umbra and her circumstances. Though Umbra remains an expert at dodging Atria's questions, that hardly stops her from continuing to try, and Umbra finds this very amusing and, in a way, respects Atria's tenacity. 
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--━ NOTES --
● // Acquired via AH purchase. Has never undergone any eye, gene or breed changes. Permanently retired from breeding. Outfit complete. Despite numerous offspring, none are canonical.
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The Blightchaser would always nurture her. This was the claim of the High Priestess, and this was the claim that Atria sewed into her heart as she aged. No matter how her vision strayed, how her limbs failed her, so long as she could look within, she would find solace and protection under the wing of the Calamity Herself. It was this belief that carried her through drought and starvation, through the loss of her brothers and sisters. For such a loss didn't seem so significant, in the end; not when the High Priestess would look upon her and whisper, "You are chosen. They were not."
From then on, she trained. Hardened into a fierce and courageous warrior by the tribe's master of arms, she became one of the Calamitite's most devout defenders, earning herself honour and high rank both in the eyes of the High Priestess. Praised as she was, it seemed inconsequential, that her mother passed soon after, claimed by illness, or that her father was soon to follow.
It was such that the curse began. The Blightchaser had turned against them, claimed the High Priestess, voice shrill and panicked. As the days went by, only more of the tribe's number succumbed to the illness. There seemed to be no cure in sight. Atria, desperate to save her people, joined hunting party after hunting party in search of an antidote, but the number of able-bodied willing to assist her dwindled as the sickness ravaged the tribe. It was not long before alone she ventured, at night and at day alike, returning with herbs and gemstones and anything she could get her hands on that might be of some assistance.
Hope became a fickle thing. The High Priestess herself had seen her own eyes turn sour, and, unafflicted, she cast stones, inspected the stars, communed with the Calamity in search of an answer. And it was like so, gaze burning with madness and desperation, that the Priestess turned on Atria, claiming that her health and continued fitness were indicative of the source of the illness. That it was she who'd brought this blight upon the tribe, for she was the only one left unaffected; thus, her presence must be the cause for the pain the tribe had suffered. Though she pleaded for mercy and made as best of a case as she could in her defence, the words of her goddess were damning.
Forced to leave behind the only family she'd ever known, Atria wandered, alone. Day and night blended together into one long, torturous ode of suffering. Hunger panged in her gut; thirst clenched at her throat. And she could think of nothing but for her parents, her siblings, and how little time she'd spent with them while they'd been alive. Having devoted herself so wholly to the tribe had forced her to forsake her personal life, and now it was all for naught; the one she'd believed to see her most clearly, to be able to gift her the future of her dreams, had turned on her. She belonged to the wastes, now, to the bleached deserts and the scorching skies.
So consumed was she by her own misery that at the taste of mist on her tongue, she was so certain that she'd at last lost her mind and succumbed to hallucination. It was the dead of night, the sky obscured by thick, dark clouds, but she swore she caught sight of a wink of moon before her vision was consumed by fog. Exhausted down to her bones and delirious from her own dehydration, she succumbed to the shroud of mist, collapsing in the midst of it. She wouldn't wake up; she knew it. Her time had at last come, and she would see her family again, if only her mind would give way to sleep.
And sleep did claim her, in the end. But so, too, did wakefulness. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself in a warmly-lit room, tucked with care beneath a light sheet. Pillows had cushioned her slumber, she realized. The air tasted of smoke, smelled of something old and dusty. And as she rose to further investigate where she was, a grinning, impish face, eyes wide and dark, appeared before her.
"Welcome!" chirped an adult's deeper, more seasoned voice, though the visage was decidedly that of a child. "If you just come with me, I'll show you around."
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That she could not see the face of the hooded figure before her sent a crawling feeling into her gut. However, she'd faced down monsters far more terrifying than these fellows; she lifted her chin. She would not be daunted by the secrecy of these people.
The black shroud turned their head toward Umbra, inclining their chin ever so slightly. In a low, thrumming voice, they spoke: "Thank you for guiding her, Imp. I will see to things from here."
Rather than respond, the child sketched a bow before tossing a wink in the sage's direction, spinning on her heel and leaving the room. Atria watched her go, resisting the urge to call after her.
"On to you, now, child," voiced the figure, drawing her attention back to them. "What is your name?"
Atria craned her head, as though she could get a peak at the visage beneath the hood, but her attempt proved futile. "Who are you?" she demanded, unnerved by the anonymity of the individual before her. "What is this place?"
The shrouded figure chuckled, folding their arms across their chest. "This is the Archive," they informed her quite cryptically. "And I am one of its Sages."
Atria shook her head, casting a glance around. If only someone else would appear and save her from the severity of the attention of this individual, perhaps she would feel safer. But in this room, tracked by these eyes that she could not see, she found herself unable to relax, muscles drawn and tense, ready to flee at a moment's notice. "You aren't making any sense."
"Ah, but aren't I?" The figure inclined their head once more. "You've seen this place. These halls are lined with knowledge. Some would call it a library, perhaps. What would you call it?"
Atria, brow creased, eyed the figure up and down once more. The heavy beaded necklace they wore around their neck drew her attention; it was far easier to look at than the foreboding hood. "A library, I guess."
There was that same chuckle again. It sent a shiver down Atria's spine. "You are not very familiar with libraries, are you, child?"
Fixing the shrouded head with a sharp glance, Atria begrudgingly shook her head. "There is little time for reading in the Wastes," she remarked dryly.
"No." Despite the hood, Atria could feel the way the hooded figure's eyes scrutinized her. "I can see that much. You have the look of a warrior."
Lifting her chin with what bit of pride she could muster, Atria declared, "I am a warrior."
The shrouded one chuckled once more. "Then a warrior you will remain."
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With a buffet of wind, she was sent skittering back once more, the training staff clenched tightly in her hands. No matter how she glared and hissed at the warrior before her, he didn't flinch. A part of her, however distant, was almost impressed.
"You are reckless," remarked the cobalt soldier. "You lack discipline."
Atria spat at him. "If I take you down, are your people going to set me free?" she growled. "Or am I going to be imprisoned here for the rest of my life?"
The warrior's expression flickered with surprise. "This is not a prison." Atria resented the easy way with which he held himself, resented how he held his sword so limply, as though he didn't expect that he would need to use it. "This is your new freedom."
"Bull." She threw herself at the paladin again, rage boiling tight and hot in her gut. How she wanted to feed it, to pummel her opponent into the ground beneath her, to watch him wheeze his defeat up at her.
Before she could even lift her staff to attempt to deliver a blow, her feet were swept out from beneath her, and to the ground she tumbled inelegantly, loosing a huff of breath. She hadn't even seen him move. Blinking dazedly, she heaved herself up onto her elbows, glaring up at him.
He wore a kind smile, eyes gently crinkled. Atria's anger bubbled and boiled. "Your reality is the same as all who come here," he mused. "You have no home. Perhaps once, but no longer. You seek purpose. You seek family. Familiarity. You are a tool without a wielder, a rebel without a cause." He extended his arm, offering to help her stand again. "You are the spirit of every one of us. And if only you will let yourself, you will fit right in."
Atria batted his hand away with as much bitterness as she could muster, hauling herself upright. Even on her feet, she had to tilt her head back to glare at the warrior. "I don't belong here," she ground out, clutching her training staff tightly. "Nothing you say will change the fact that your people took me from my home."
The soldier heaved a saddened sigh, shaking his head slightly. "You still don't understand. But that's alright." He sheathed his sword. "In time, you will. You're a formidable warrior."
Eyes narrowed, Atria watched him, waiting for she knew not what. For him to strike her suddenly, perhaps, or for him to tell her off, but neither action came to pass. Stuntedly, awkwardly, she grumbled, "Thank you."
The warrior chuckled, waving off her thanks as though he had more than enough to spare. "I'd like to continue training with you, if you would let me," he said, ignoring her words entirely
Atria couldn't deny that the thought of continuing to spar with this soldier was of interest to her. After all, he possessed such speed, such discipline, and Atria envied him his ability with a sword. However, she also couldn't deny that he was a stranger, perhaps even an enemy, though he smiled at her and extended nothing but kindness. She couldn't trust him.
But perhaps that was why, in the end, she accepted. And perhaps that was why, in the end, Lachlan became her greatest teacher, and perhaps that was why, in the end, she wanted nothing more than to make him proud. And perhaps that was why, in the end, she took on the mantle of the Eastern Pillar, one half of the Archive's first line of defense. Because she couldn't trust anyone but herself to keep those she held dearest safe, despite her previous failures. She was the weapon, and always had been, but now, at last, she was a weapon with not only a purpose, but a family, as well.
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