Mirza
(#61960783)
Things forbidden have a secret charm | he/him
Familiar
Sanguine Multimist
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
27.32 m
Wingspan
21.52 m
Weight
7620.48 kg
Genetics
Sanguine
Metallic
Metallic
Crimson
Bee
Bee
Ivory
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
132
AGI
11
DEF
6
QCK
40
INT
8
VIT
10
MND
6
Biography
artwork by awaicu
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 M I R Z A 
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
 PRINCE OF DHUNE KEEPER OF THE VAULT OF KINGS  
NAOMI G4 || IGNIS G4
R umor speaks of an ancient vault that once rested beneath the great City of Dhune. It is filled with all manner of treasures and forbidden objects confiscated from the world. Over time, such things have taken on a mind and voice of their own and they speak out into the darkness, praising the prince who lords over this forbidden place. |
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Mirza stared out over the City of Dhune. The palace terrace afforded him a spectacular view of the kingdom and from here he could see out past the pallid stone walls that marked the perimeter of his father’s domain. In the morning light, the distant sands sparkled like an ocean of gold and Mirza watched as the first of the travelers made their way towards the gates. The City of Dhune was a place of commerce, a trading port that rose up from the desert sands. It attracted many wayfarers and craftsmen who came to market their wares in the great bazaar. Mirza closed his eyes, indulging in the scents of cinnamon and bay leaves that wafted up to the terrace. He relished the sounds that echoed up to him as well, the laughter of children and the bartering of traders in a myriad of foreign tongues. It was an unpleasant snap against his conscious that interrupted Mirza’s pleasant daydream. He knew the feeling well and he let out a bated sigh. Somewhere in the city below, someone was using magic. Mirza never left the palace unless it was to procure illegal objects or arrest magic-users found practicing within the city limits and silence fell upon the marketplace as onlookers stared warily at the prince. It was true that Mirza had a title of royalty, but he still garnered suspicion from his father’s people. The City was never meant to have a prince and many believed that Mirza had used magic to influence the king into naming him heir. He could hear the whispers as he passed, rumors and conspiracies driving home an unspoken point. The prince was not to be trusted. It was fair enough, Mirza supposed. He had no memories of his own before arriving in Dhune and although he could sense magic, any magical inclinations he possessed had been bound at the city’s gates as was customary for all who entered Dhune. He wasn’t entirely certain what his own abilities were, only that the golden bands fitted against his scales had locked them away. “Why is magic banned in the city?” He’d tried asking his father, but king Euron never offered a reply. Mirza kept his eyes cast towards the ground as he passed through the bazaar, the tug of magic guiding him towards a stall that was tucked away in one of the allies splitting from the main road. Many of the less popular vendors set up their shops in these ally ways, but the tent that Mirza came to seemed rather out of place. It was draped with a lavish canopy comprised of a rich mahogany silk and embroidered with intricate golden designs. Mirza pushed the silk aside, a small bell chiming as he stepped into the tent. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and the first thing he noticed was a lit stick of incense that glowed softly as it emitted a trail of scented smoke into the air. The vendor appeared to be out and Mirza warily approached the cloth-covered table that rested at the center of the tent. There were several objects laid out before him; stones carved into pyramidal designs and small vials containing strange powders, herbs, and spices. Several unusual potted plants overgrew onto the table as well, their leaves emitting a soft glow. Finally, in the center of the table, a massive crystal ball rested atop a golden pedestal. All of it reeked of magic. “See something you like?” Startled, Mirza’s gaze snapped up from the table, meeting that of another Imperial who had seemingly materialized before him. She was draped in extravagant crimson silks and rubies that accentuated her own scarlet eyes. “Perhaps. . . you’d like me to tell your fortune?” Mirza swallowed thickly. “I- you are aware that magic is forbidden here? How did you get past the gates?” The smirk he received in response was unsettling. “I have my ways, dear prince. I knew you would come to find me too.” She appeared suddenly beside Mirza, laughing when she startled him. “Such a waste of potential” she muttered, a claw grazing lightly over one of the golden bangles that adorned Mirza’s wrist. “Now, I have come to Dhune because I wish to acquire a certain item. Something you shouldn’t have here anyways given that magic is forbidden and all. But where, I wonder, do such items run off to once they’ve been confiscated, hmm?” She tapped a finger teasingly against her own chin. “I’ll tell you what, prince. Help me, and perhaps I can answer some of your burning questions.” Mirza crossed his arms, an annoyed sigh escaping him. “I can’t trust you. Besides, I’ve only come to escort you back to the palace”. The other Imperial brushed off Mirza’s latter comment. “Of course not. But who can you trust really? I’ll give you a bit to think about my offer and I’ll throw in a little bonus to start off this partnership between the two of us. A token of friendship, as you will.” The incense smoldered as she spoke, the air growing thick and heavy with smoke. Mirza’s eyes watered and he squeezed them shut as he coughed to clear his throat. When his senses returned, the tent and the strange Imperial were gone, leaving the prince alone in the alley. Euron was displeased. “So you’re telling me that someone smuggled an entire tent of forbidden items into the city?” His eyes narrowed as he stared down at Mirza, “and that this individual simply ‘disappeared’ when you confronted them?” The prince fidgeted uncomfortably, “I-yes”. The king let out an exacerbated sigh. “I don’t suppose you have any other pertinent information you’d like to share?” Mirza paused before tentatively shaking his head. Euron eyed him a moment longer as if he sensed that the prince was omitting something. “Very well, you are excused”. The wooden doors to the throne room shut behind Mirza with a heavy echo. He let out a breath of relief. Had he really just lied to his father? It puzzled him as to why he would defend the sorceress who had defied Dhune’s laws. “Mirza?”. The prince glanced about confusedly at the sound of his name, yet the massive hall was empty. “. . . Mirza”. The voice echoed again and the prince leaned wearily against one of the alabaster walls as a sudden sweeping vertigo threw him off balance. “Mirza wake up. . .” A dull ache grew in the back of his mind, growing rapidly in intensity until a splintering pain pierced through his head. The Imperial curled into himself, slumping to the floor as the surroundings around him blurred. He was faintly aware of something cracking, burnished gold falling away from red scales as the world went black. “Mirza, wake up. You’re the laziest creation yet!” The voice came from a Wildclaw who glared down at Mirza with a frightening amount of intensity. Any lingering remnants of fatigue faded under the piercing gaze as the Imperial glanced sheepishly back. “Sorry mother”. The Wildclaw turned her back on the child, rolling her eyes as she waltzed purposefully towards the door, her scolding tone echoing back. “Don’t call me that! Just be ready for your next lesson. We’re starting the basics of alchemy in half an hour!” Her voice trailed off into a mumble as she left the room. The memories continued to tumble through the Imperial’s mind. He found himself in a massive workshop, the Wildclaw standing before him. “Now remember, the first rule of alchemy is the law of equivalent exchange. There are many scholars who will tell you that there is no way to overcome this ‘fundamental’ principle of alchemy.” The Wildclaw laughed at her own remark, “such utter nonsense. Value itself is a whimsical and relative thing. You just need to convince the universe that what you are trading is more valuable than it actually is.” She snapped her fingers and the lump of burnt out coal resting on the table before her re-ignited with an intense blue flame. “Guess what I traded for the fire? Right - absolutely nothing! Sometimes even nothingness has great value”. When Mirza regained consciousness, he found himself back in his chambers, the late morning sunshine streaming in through an open window. A dark Imperial stood over him when he awoke. “Ah good, you’re finally up. You had the king quite worried”. Mirza rubbed his head, a lingering headache still throbbed at the back of his skull. He recognized the healer standing before him and grimaced as she offered him a heavily scented herbal remedy. “This will help with the headache.” “Ah I had the strangest dream”. “Right and you finally regained some of your lost memories.” Mirza startled at her comment. “I-what?” When he glanced back up, he found that the healer had vanished and instead the sorceress from the tent stood in her place. “Hah! You’re so easily surprised.” She said with a laugh as she relished in the look of shock apparent on Mirza’s face. “Surely you must be familiar with the art of disguise!” Mirza glanced around nervously. “W-what are you doing here?” He hissed, “do you know what the king will do if he finds you inside the palace!?” The sorceress afforded him a confident smile. “Aww, worried about me are we?” Mirza glanced away, blushing slightly at her question. “No need to be bashful young prince, not many can resist my charms.” “Now! I’ve held up my end of our bargain. Looks like I’ve even helped you to break one of your seals!” She said excitedly, gesturing to Mirza’s left wrist, which was now missing one of the paired golden bangles. Mirza opened his mouth to speak, but the sorceress pressed a finger to his lips. “No need to thank me. All I need you to do is find the vault. I’ve done some scouring for it myself, but it’s well hidden, especially for a “magic-less” city. Undoubtedly it’s enchanted.” “Why do you think I’ll help you?” Mirza finally quipped. The sorceress beamed back a smile. “Because, dear prince, you’re too curious not to! Plus, in your current sorry state, I could easily overpower your will.” Mirza rolled his eyes. “At least give me the courtesy of a name, then?” “It’s Sahiba. My name is Sahiba”. The vault proved difficult to find. Euron had been certain to keep even its existence a secret, and Mirza had his own doubts that the vault even existed in the first place. He had no better explanation for the location of all the confiscated magical items that had been procured from the city. “Why would he seal them in a vault though?” Mirza questioned one night as Sahiba slipped through the window in his chambers. “Why lock them away?” “Hmm” Sahiba smiled. “Why indeed. I imagine it has something to do with the prophecy - a seer told him long ago that magic would be his ruin. Fear is a potent motivator. He’s probably just putting everything somewhere that he can keep an eye on it so it can’t be used against him.” Sahiba sighed as she fell backwards onto Mirza’s nest with a dull thump. “You’re not making much progress finding the vault on your own, are you? Mirza winced at her words. “W-well.” “You’re so easily flustered! Hah! Who would’ve thought that a child of Dismas would be so endearingly normal. I think the greatest mystery is why he would send you to this city of all places. . . What is your purpose here prince? And what happened to your memories?” Ever since Mirza’s first seal broke, memories slowly trickled back to him in dreams. He dreamt vividly, visions of an extensive training in magic and the red Wildclaw’s piercing gaze. There was a great red Imperial who appeared in fleeting memories as well, watching from a distance as Mirza grew. He had siblings once too. Why would he forget such things? Each answer he received only served to generate more questions and Mirza’s search for the vault grew more frantic. Finally, the prince simply asked. He sat at the end of the the massive mahogany dining table, his father seated at the head of the table across from him. They were joined by a third Imperial, Dumuzid, who served as a messenger and one of king Euron’s consorts. The table was piled high with a bountiful feast, red grapes, dates, nuts, and cheeses set out on platters to accompany the main course of roasted pheasant. Mirza picked wistfully at the food before setting his fork down with a light chime against his plate. “Father. Where do all the magical items go when we confiscate them from the city?” The question caught Euron off guard, and he glared at Mirza momentarily before continuing his meal. “That shouldn’t concern you. What matters is that we are keeping this city safe by procuring illegal wares and arresting those responsible for practicing magic.” He cut a slice from the pheasant on his plate as he spoke, pausing as he looked back at the prince. “Speaking of which, none of my sources have been able to find that sorceress in the city. . . I am concerned that whoever you ran into may be a particularly skilled magic user to evade us for this long.” Mirza avoided eye contact with the king in favor of looking down at his food nervously. “Did you consider that they may no longer be in the city?” “I find that unlikely. In fact, I suspect that they are searching for something within the palace, perhaps an item that found its way here.” The king stared at the prince for another moment before clasping his hands together. “Actually, Mirza. . . perhaps you have a fair point after all. I will show you the vault that you keep asking about. I believe that it will benefit both of us”. The king’s words unsettled Mirza, but he still followed Euron into the throne room after their meal. The king tapped the edge of the crimson carpet that blanketed the floor, its edges curling as it rolled in on itself and revealed a circular golden sigil engraved into the stone. Mirza watched as the sigil gleamed, intricate patterns swirling and shifting as a door opened in the floor, a massive gaping hole that descended into the darkness beneath the palace. The passage was cold, and Euron grabbed a single torch from the wall as he guided Mirza through the dark catacombs. In the dim light cast from the torch, the prince could make out faint runes carved into the walls, words of a long-forgotten language embedded in the stone. Mirza knew that Dhune had been built around the ruins of an ancient desert-dwelling civilization, but he never realized that its infrastructure still existed, buried below the city. Euron’s voice echoed in the narrow passages as he spoke. “I never built the vault, you know. I simply found it down here, buried in the rubble. It was nearly impossible to open, but after many years of studying, I succeeded. . . and do you know what I found?” Mirza barely heard the king’s words as they came before an enormous circular sliding door, its surface heavily patterned with ancient runes that glowed on their own in the darkness. Mirza couldn’t tear his eyes away from the vault’s entrance, it seemed to beckon to him, a small voice echoing in his mind. The runes gleamed brightly as the door rolled open. “I found an all-consuming darkness and into it I have deposited all of the confiscated items. None who have entered ever return”. Mirza swallowed thickly as the darkness in the vault let out an audible hiss. It was tangible, alive, as if something lurked within the confines of the vault. “Father, who did you send inside?” “All those caught practicing magic in the city.” Euron replied with a shrug. “I’ve offered them the chance to reclaim their wares and not a single one has turned that offer down. All of them rush into the darkness. . . and they never come back.” Mirza only stared into the shifting darkness. “Not quite what you expected, is it?” “So you finally found it?!” Sahiba called excitedly as she slipped in through the palace’s window once more. Mirza cast his gaze towards the ground in sorrow. “Yes. I found it”. “. . . then why do you look so glum?” Mirza sighed heavily. “I believe my father showed me because he knows I’ve been speaking with you. . . and he wants you to enter”. “That’s ridiculous!” The sorceress laughed lightly, “and you’re worried about this, because?” “Because no one comes back once they go inside. Can’t you just forget about the object you came for? It’s as good as gone at this point.” Sahiba gingerly pressed a finger beneath the prince’s chin, forcing his head up so his eyes met her own. “I doubt that a mage of a royal line has ever before tried to enter. I am Sahiba, the second-borne of Imperials and a mage of Astaria and Minstim’s line. Don’t belittle my skill, prince.” She glared down at Mirza as she spoke. “Now. Show me the vault”. As a testament to Mirza’s worries, the vault was still open when he guided Sahiba down into the catacombs, the entrance a dark maw gaping from the stone wall. “I see what you mean” Sahiba said as she stared at the vault with crossed arms as she tapped a finger quizzically against her chin. “Who knew a nest of the Shade would manifest in such a place. . . and I’m sure your king has been feeding it”. Mirza was helpless as he watched Sahiba’s preparations, a swirl of fire erupting around her. The darkness in the doorway hissed and retreated slightly at the blinding light cast around the Imperial’s form and even Mirza had to shield his eyes. “I’ll see you on the other side, prince” She called before stepping into the darkness. Her light was immediately swallowed leaving Mirza alone once more in the cold blackness of the catacombs. “So she went inside after all” a bemused voice echoed from behind the prince and he turned to find the king leaning against a wall behind him. “Just as I suspected”. Mirza growled. “You set all of this up!” “Of course. And why are you so upset! This is your purpose after all, to bring me the magic users and their forbidden wares. This is why you were sent here.” Euron’s voice grew into a hoarse whisper. “Yet I find you guilty of consorting with the enemy! In my own palace nonetheless! After all I’ve done, after all the mercy I’ve shown for the disgruntled child who begged for my help!” Something white-hot pierced Mirza’s scales and he let out a pained cry as he noticed the gleaming arrows levitating around his father. One of them had embedded itself deep into his hide and he hissed as he attempted to wrap a hand around it, only to have it burn with an excruciating pain. “Y-you are using magic?!” His voice was a whisper as he staggered to the ground. “Of course. I am a mage after all! How do you think I built this city?” Mirza cried out as his head throbbed. He saw himself standing before the gates of Dhune. Bowing before the king, begging to be taken into the city. Tears streamed from the prince’s eyes as the last of his memories returned. “I’m sorry, Mirza” Erishkigal spoke in a suprisingly soft voice. Why was he crying? He felt the snap of cold metal against his wrists, the absence of magic startling him. “Why?” He called out and felt her cup his cheek in reassurance. “When you wake up, you won’t remember me. You will find the city of Dhune for you have a purpose there. And one day, when these memories return, you will have found that purpose.” The remaining golden bangle snapped apart. Mirza screamed as magic flooded back to him. It burst from his scales, six pairs of red wings unfurling from his sides as he failed to contain his own power. Euron took a step back, laughing insanely. “I knew it! I named you prince so I could keep an eye on you and it appears I was correct in my assumptions. It’s time to tell me why you really came to my city.” Yet something else spoke louder than Euron’s inquiry. It was a voice that rolled through Mirza’s mind, emanating from the darkness of the vault. It beckoned loudly and Mirza took a step towards it. Euron yelled behind him, arrows made of light snapping against Mirza’s hide, yet he no longer felt their pain. He simply walked forward. . . and disappeared into the darkness. “— Almost. . . got-“ Sahiba had been reaching up towards the dagger she sought when the surroundings blurred around her and she found herself back in Dhune’s catacombs, an angry king staring at her with a bewildered expression on his face. Sahiba ducked as she nearly missed getting hit by a white-hot arrow. “What the? Please tell me this is just another trick of the Shade”. She groaned in frustration. “Interesting, I’ve never seen anyone make it back out alive.” “Who do you think I am, tyrant?” Sahiba snapped in annoyance. “The real question is why I am here without my dagger once again! If you’d be so kind as to open the door once more dear king, I’ll happily oblige your wish to see me re-enter the vault.” Euron shrugged, the stone door sliding open once more. . . yet there was no gaping darkness resting behind it. Sahiba rushed to the wall, pressing her hands against the bare stone that now rested in place of the vault’s entrance. “This is. . . impossible”. She said quietly before turning back to the king. The power it would have required to move such an infinitely large space was unfathomable. “Where is Mirza?” She questioned, her eyes drawn to the sparkling remains of a golden band that rested on the cold stone floor. Flecks of dust gleam brightly as they dance within a beam of light. It weakly illuminates the otherwise oppressive darkness, the faint outlines of shelves coming into view. A vault, perhaps. Yet its boundaries are ill-defined, its edges bleeding into the shadows. It holds a myriad of treasures - forbidden knowledge scribed upon a thousand books and objects enchanted or cursed with dark magic. Small voices emanate from many of the items - sighs and whispers echoing upon the stagnant air. Something shifts, a form coiled around the top of a pile of coins and precious gems, golden eyes looking out over his domain. The whispers fall silent under his piercing gaze. It has been many years since Mirza entered the vault. In all honesty, he doesn't know how much time has passed. He had only awoken now because someone was here. A brave traveler who dared enter this tainted place. “Took me long enough to find you, prince” Mirza perked up at the familiar voice, lifting his head towards an approaching light. A red Imperial appeared before him, her scarlet eyes as mesmerizing he remembered. “Sahiba” he called down to her from where he perched on his throne of gold. “It’s good to see you. Hah, the lengths I went to to find this place are quite the story. We certainly have some catching up to do!” She said playfully. “But first, I’ve come to retrieve my dagger”. Adam's children are not born but made. Their father would have empty eggshells and remains of dragons brought in and through intricate alchemagical rituals with his essence as a focus, he creates entirely new life. Often the King only observes the hatching of the clutches, after which he commands his attendants to set out and deliver the hatchlings to other clans and set up a deal with them. The reason as to why he does this is shrouded in mystery even to his own entourage, though the most common answer is that they are meant to be spies or ambassadors. The children could be anything in this regard, the power of their ancestors allowing them about any path they wish to choose. This child is of a clutch created with the help of Ereshkigal, an emissary of the great beyond. Mixing her essence in with that of Dismas' does a great deal to externalise the powers of the hatchlings, such as reading fate, raising the dead and warping reality. All the same, the hatchlings are often plagued with poor health, something that can be remedied with attentive care, or more unorthodox ways such as siphoning life essence. A small price to pay in the emissary's eyes.
Lore Starter by Mir
Layout and artwork by awaicu
Banners by PoisonedPaper
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artwork by 13halos
R E L A T I O N S
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Dismas: Mirza's true 'father' and creator. Mirza was the product of alchemy and necromancy, created in a workshop somewhere in the Shifting Expanse. Mirza only has scraps of memories featuring Dismas from his childhood. |
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Ereshkigal: Mirza's 'mother' and co-creator. The majority of Mirza's childhood memories feature Eri's teachings of various aspects of magic. |
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Sahiba: An Imperial sorceress from a royal line of mages, Sahiba's family has high expectations for her. Still, the Imperial is a rather carefree and playful character. She doesn't like to talk about her family and frequently visits the vault where Mirza resides. The reminder of her time is spent at the Cathedral of Eyes, where she has raised the majority of her children. |
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Rothko: Mirza and Sahiba's firstborn son, one of two children residing in the Cathedral of Eyes. Multiple red wings are hereditary for Mirza's line and several of his children including Za'atar and Rothko sport them as well, a manifestation of their power. Rothko is a painter who creates portals with his artwork that open into other dimensions. He resides in the Velvet Lounge and offers his services to a select clientele who ask him to create portals for them that open to specific locations. |
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Za'atar: Mirza and Sahiba's last born daughter. Multiple red wings are hereditary for Mirza's line and several of his children including Za'atar and Rothko sport them as well, a manifestation of their power. Za'atar is a procurer of spices and strange herbs that she offers her clients. |
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Era: Mirza's niece (daughter of Eros), Era has taken up quite the position in the Cathedral of Eyes as a Mistress of the Velvet Lounge. She serves a select clientele and uses her reality warping abilities to allow them to live out their wildest fantasies. She does not tolerate violence and is very kind and sensitive despite her sometimes intimidating appearance. |
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Euron: The king of Dhune and Mirza's adoptive father, Euron was a powerful mage who kept his own abilities well-hidden. Due to the circumstances leading to Dhune's downfall, Euron is now a cursed spirit bound to the beast called Scarab. |
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Ankh: After Mirza moves the vault out from under the City of Dhune, it ends up deep within a tomb guarded by the beast called Ankh. It is to the call of desperate explorers being hunted by the beast that Mirza is called forth. Mirza takes an interest in Ankh and the beast ultimately becomes his servant, a guardian and messenger for the lost prince who is often sent to procure cursed items that would be better off sealed away. |
artwork by endyr
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