Sahiba
(#62590281)
Those who don't believe in magic will never find it
Familiar
Burning Virgo
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
27.44 m
Wingspan
23.54 m
Weight
6784.09 kg
Genetics
Red
Petals
Petals
Maroon
Bee
Bee
Chocolate
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 15 Imperial
EXP: 50414 / 60881
STR
74
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
18
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
|
 S A H I B A 
BARGHEST LORE AND LINEAGE PROJECT
 THE LADY IN RED MATE TO MIRZA  
T here are legends of a dagger rumored to have the capability to sever any binding. Its commissioner still searches for it, lost now amidst an endless vault of forgotten treasures. |
|
Sornieth is home to many kinds of families. Some of them are refuges, but others can be burdens. Sahiba’s own family was powerful and perfect. So she, too, was supposed to be perfect.... But she was not, and that annoyed her greatly. Long years had not loosened that thorn, but instead had dug it deeper into her side. Sahiba’s parents, Minstim and Asteria, were part of the first generation of Imperials, descended directly from the gods. Minstim had been crafted by the Stormcatcher, and Asteria by the Plaguebringer. Divine magic flowed strongly within them—and they expected their children to be worthy of that burden as well. Like her siblings, Sahiba was put through a strict educational regimen from her earliest days. The first puffs of Plague magic that twirled from her claws were virulent, dangerous....Her tutors worked to instill the discipline that she would require. Her strongest memories of that time were of directing the red vapors to begin eating away at an apple...and then recalling the magic, leaving one half of the apple completely shriveled and brown—while the other half remained perfect, gleaming red and whole. It was also at around this time that she began displaying her capabilities for Lightning magic—Plagueborn she may have been, but Minstim’s magic still bred true. New tutors were brought in from the Shifting Expanse, new lessons and tasks set before her. Sahiba learned to rein in the electricity crackling through her blood, the magic of blasting and building machinery. If one were to ask Sahiba now about those tutors, she would only be able to offer brief names and impressions. They passed out of her life as quickly as leaves falling from a tree. Still, there were two constant presences in the background: Sahiba’s parents, overseeing her education—and, it seemed to her, always regarding her progress with cool disapproval. If she failed a task, they simply growled, “Again.” And when she finally knew success, their comments simply boiled down to “More.” Higher and higher, ever better and stronger...What was it all in aid of? More wealth, power, or prestige? Looking at the opulence that had surrounded her since birth, Sahiba thought she could appreciate that...but only up to a certain point. She was ready to leave the gilded cage that was her family’s home—and in order to do that, she would need to sever her ties to them, in perhaps a literal sense.... In a family as prestigious as Sahiba’s, it wasn’t unusual that some of her kin would be selected to serve the gods. News reached her that her brother, Soren, had been inducted into the Earthshaker’s service. A great feast was to be thrown in his honor, and Sahiba and her other siblings were all expected—even if they weren’t necessarily invited—to attend. The feast would be in one of their family’s many lairs. Right outside the lair flourished verdant gardens, and Sahiba alighted here. She had a moment to enjoy the oasis and the dancing illusions before a servant appeared. “And whom do we have the pleasure of welcoming tonight?” the Coatl hummed to her. “Sahiba,” the Imperial answered. Though she was no mind-reader, she caught the briefest hesitation before the servant said, “Indeed, beloved daughter of Minstim and Asteria, and sister of the exalted Soren! You are welcome here.” “I had better be,” Sahiba thought, though outwardly she flashed a grateful smile. She followed the servant into the lair, past columns of crimson coral and animated tapestries. Most of these were dedicated to Soren and the Earthshaker, but Sahiba caught glimpses of other gods and already-exalted siblings, and even her parents. She found herself glad that she wasn’t featured here. Tapestries like these always depicted such perfect figures, but she had long learned that it was stifling to have to live up to those images. “Admiring the view, sister?” “Ah. Ovate.” Sahiba turned to face him with a deceptively warm smile. One of her many siblings, Ovate was an accomplished warrior. He wore a ceremonial version of his armor— “As if we needed more reminders of how fantastic a fighter he is. If only he were just as smart an elocutionist,” Sahiba thought dryly. “It’s so nice to see you crawling up from the Tangled Wood. Managed to scrub the scent of the swamp off your armor, have you?” “The scent of the swamp doesn’t bother me,” Ovate shot back with equally deceptive mildness, “but I can see where it might trouble a pampered flower such as yourself. Tell me, sister, how’s business? Did that shop of yours ever get off the ground, or was that just more hot air?” In spite of herself, Sahiba’s mane bristled. “My shop is fine, thank you—” But even before she could finish the sentence, Ovate turned away. He fell into step alongside another guest, and their laughter drifted back to where Sahiba still seethed. “—very much,” she growled to the empty air. The interaction rankled, but not as much as one might have thought—in a family that fostered constant competition, there were always other things to focus on. The feast was starting, and it was, as expected, an opulent affair extolling Soren’s skills. There were other guests there, dragons from grand and glorious clans. More than once, Sahiba caught curious glances from them that seemed to ask, “And what have you done?” Enough. Sahiba had already done enough. She was ready to move on, and she smiled as she lifted a goblet to her lips. Sahiba’s shop did not yet have a name. She had considered several, but none had seemed right to her. And perhaps it didn’t really matter: draped in scarlet and gold, the shop was unmistakably Sahiba’s. So long as everyone knew who was in charge, its name, or lack thereof, seemed unimportant. The shop was normally just a large tent, but on special occasions, it expanded to a miniature labyrinth of curtains and shelves and magical artifacts for sale. This was one of those occasions: Riot of Rot was now in full swing, and the shop had been expanded to its largest size to take advantage of the festival. As Sahiba strode in, she felt a surge of satisfaction as she saw all the customers strolling down the curtained aisles and admiring the wares. Her ears caught the clink of coins changing claws—business, it seemed, was good. Her employees could take care of the customers. She was instead looking for a visitor, and she caught sight of a Wildclaw idly examining a crystal ball. She was dressed in drab, unremarkable traveler’s garb, but as Sahiba’s eyes fell on her, the plumes upon her hat suddenly pulsed with gold fire. This was the messenger she’d been waiting for: one of Adam’s servants. In the back room, Sahiba and the messenger exchanged greetings. “My master thanks you for your cooperation,” the Wildclaw said. “He has made much progress on your commission and is ready to collect ingredients for the next stage.” Sahiba scanned the list. A few ingredients were easy to procure; she had them right here in the shop. What was more troublesome was the manner in which they had to be primed so that they could be used. Adam was another Imperial—descended from the legendary Naomi and Ignis, he was a thaumaturgist capable of creating magical artifacts of tremendous power. Sahiba had learned of him in the course of her studies, but had only recently reached out to him. She had commissioned him to create a dagger—one that could permanently sever any binding, including her ties to her family. Adam had sent her a list of ingredients. Many of them were common, but they couldn’t simply be bought: Each ingredient needed to be imbued with Sahiba’s wishes, her desires to break away from her family, before it could be sent to the sorcerer. The shadow serpentskin, the ancestral incense...Sahiba held these close, murmuring the words Adam had taught her. Each object pulsed with fiery light, and the messenger took these with gloved claws, tucking them into velvet bags. “I don’t understand, though....Isn’t ancestral incense supposed to create a connection with one’s ancestors? That’s the exact opposite of what I want!” And then Sahiba turned to the next page, and she understood. Impure sacridite—a strange crystal that grew based on the wishes of those around it. Adam wanted a very specific variety of it, which was why Sahiba had come to this haunted place.... The lair might have had a name once, but it was lost now, crushed when Luminax had devastated the Sunbeam Ruins. Now only rubble and echoes remained. Sahiba wasn’t too worried about the Emperor—she would hear them coming long before they reached her—but Luminax’s magic had warped other living creatures, and these could be a much greater threat if she wasn’t careful. Luminax’s magic, too, was known to have warped other things—such as the impure sacridite Sahiba was now searching for. Adam had explained that the energies from these corrupted stones could be used to twist the magic inherent in other things, such as the ancestral incense. A strong connection to one’s ancestors...twisted until it snapped. Sahiba soon found the dead clan’s vault, and she followed the cracked steps deep into the earth, murmuring spells to keep the ground from caving in upon her. At last, up ahead, she glimpsed the gleam of the vault door. Sahiba managed to ignore the bones around it, the last remnants of the clan’s guards. She coaxed the locks open with another spell. The vault seemed mostly untouched. There were cracks here and there, and some items lay strewn on the floor, but things were still mostly organized. Sahiba drew her robes closer around herself as she moved deeper into the dimness. Her rubies shed warm light, gleaming off the wealth the clan had amassed. She soon found the impure sacridite, and she scooped pawfuls into the bag she’d brought with her. Other dragons might have been tempted to raid the vault, but not Sahiba—this sacridite would help her carve a future greater than anything the vault’s other contents might’ve promised her. She was nearly back at the entrance when she heard a dry rasp, and the sound sent chills down her spine. As she peered out from behind a column, she saw the bones by the entrance quivering, joining together into a huge, shambling shape. She had seen phantoms like these before, had even defeated them. Would it make any difference if she fought one here, in this Emperor-tainted place? Well, she would find out. She stepped forward, her claws gleaming scarlet. As battles went, she’d had tenser before. The confined vault did make it a bit more challenging, but the phantom was even clumsier than Sahiba, and at times it seemed barely able to hold itself together. She shredded it with her claws as much as with her sorcery, stripping away bones and magic in equal measure. Soon the phantom was a writhing mess on the floor, and she stepped over it and fled back up to the light. She took to the air, briefly glancing back to see Luminax on the horizon. Had she told anyone else of this encounter, they would have been goggle-eyed with awe: “You fought a corrupted phantom in an underground vault—and escaped before Luminax could catch you? Amazing! I could never do that! I could never...” She smiled wryly to herself. Well, she had done a lot of challenging things before. Her life had been a series of challenges practically since she’d been born. And now she needed to get the last two ingredients, and to do that, she would have to return to someplace more foreboding: her parents’ home. Ephemera from your family’s progenitors: a hair, or maybe a scale. Before the day is over, these must be imbued with your desire to break away. My messenger will collect them before midnight... It was easy enough to get something from Asteria. She was elsewhere in the lair on business, and Sahiba simply walked into her private quarters and found the brushes used on her mane. A few crimson hairs were sufficient; now she needed something from her father. His private quarters were more secure than Asteria’s were, though. Could Sahiba perhaps force the locks? While she was mulling it over in the hallway, a servant came to her. “Minstim has been apprised of your arrival. He wishes to formally welcome his daughter to these halls.” Sahiba suppressed a grimace. It was something her parents did every time she or her siblings arrived: a formal welcome, as if they were visiting dignitaries rather than relatives. She suspected they did that just to keep up appearances. Well, this overly formal custom would serve her purposes now. She found herself smiling as she followed the servant to where her father was. Minstim waited, alone in scarlet splendor, in the solarium. He invited his daughter to sit and drink with him, and they chatted politely of recent events. Sahiba spoke of her own shop, and though Minstim wasn’t outwardly disapproving, she noticed that his comments essentially boiled down to, “I see.” There were no compliments, no follow-up questions. But of course, there never were. And then Minstim said, “We have received word from the Tangled Wood. Your brother, Ovate, will enter the Shadowbinder’s service as an exalted warrior.” “Oh? Well, that should suit him just fine. He’s been training for exaltation his whole life.” “Yes. He is a credit to this family. And it is, of course, always a point of pride when our children realize their dreams.” Pretty words, but delivered in such a cool, flat tone that they lost all meaning. Still, Sahiba was for a moment struck by them. “Our...dreams?” “What do you think our dreams are, Father?” “To attain greatness, and the prestige that goes with exaltation,” Minstim said with a shrug. “Is that not what every dragon desires?” “What if...the dream is something other than exaltation?” Sahiba asked slowly. She let out a little laugh as she said, “No need to go down in history or legend. There are so many things one can be ‘the best’ at. Scholarly matters or...research, maybe. Shopkeeping? Exploring?” “Mundane aspirations are best left to mundane folk, Sahiba. We are god-born, and therefore must do things worthy of the highest honor the gods can bestow. Does anyone remember a shopkeeper? A chef or a librarian?” Perhaps the worst part, Sahiba thought, was that her father said the words with barely any emotion. He spoke with a gentle, indulgent half-smile, as if contemplating an infant’s babblings. Just a passing amusement—nothing more. “And he thinks that’s all it is to me. That my shop, my attempts to live away from them, are just...passing, infantile fancies.” And perhaps he was right and maybe they were. Maybe against the grand scheme of things, Sahiba’s wealth and beauty didn’t matter, and in time she would turn back to her old studies of combat and sorcery. She would be the first to admit that her magical studies had aided her a great deal. Without them, she wouldn’t have been able to create the life she now had for herself. But now she wanted to live her life on her own terms. If the lessons her parents had given her were to be the foundation of that, then so be it—but they would not form the remainder, let alone the entirety, of her existence. Perhaps someday, when she was as old as they were, she would see things differently, would indeed seek exaltation.... But that time was centuries away yet. Before that, Sahiba would live the life she wanted, where there were no tutors or schedules, where her name mattered, where the only approval she needed was her own. Minstim arched his eyeridges as his daughter rose. “Will you not await your mother, Sahiba?” “I’ve imposed upon you for too long. Give Mother my regards.” And Sahiba embraced him with her forelegs and wings. It was a very quick gesture, and before Minstim could properly react, she was gone, striding down the hallway. —and with a lock of her father’s claret mane, neatly snipped off with her claws, in her grasp. Sahiba smiled to herself as she looked towards the sky. She had plenty of time to send the remaining ingredients on their way...and after that, she would only have to wait. Adam’s messenger left with the ingredients, gliding away into the night. A message arrived some days later, informing Sahiba that the dagger had been completed. To safeguard it, one of Adam’s children, Mirza, would deliver it to her. Sahiba waited...but after a month had gone past without the courier arriving, she became impatient. Had she perhaps been swindled? It was with relief that she entered the shop one day and saw the Wildclaw messenger standing nearby. But the look on the messenger’s face, too, was one of concern. “Mirza has disappeared,” she explained. “He was on his way here, but it appears he was...intercepted...before he could complete his task. To our knowledge, your dagger is still with him.” Sahiba bared her fangs in frustration. “And if I want another one, I shall have to go through that entire song and dance again, I suppose.” “It is a possibility. Adam will of course endeavor to aid his son, but we have not yet determined how to retrieve him.” “I might be able to do something about that,” Sahiba thought. Her mind was already working; if she had something of Mirza’s, she could cast a simple tracking spell and pick up his trail... “What is this Mirza like, messenger? Tell me more. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Layout and artwork by awaicu
Lore by Disillusionist
Banners by PoisonedPaper
|
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Sahiba to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.