Syra

Syra is, by some arguments, a fisherdragon. She's not very fond of fishing though, and tries to catch them with the least effort possible. Her usual strategy is to create a large boulder (which takes a while, she's not great at earth magic), push it off a cliff, and then detonate it into a burst of shards with her earth magic, hopefully impaling at least a few underwater creatures. After that, she has to collect the fish, gut the fish, store the fish, and all the other steps that she never gets to before getting bored of the whole thing and running off to do something else. It's a good thing most dragons aren't very picky about how their food is prepared.

Her lack of focus is how Syra ended up in Clan _______ in the first place. Her parents are mercenaries, and for a while, she trained with them. Eventually, she was deemed good enough to start taking contracts with them. But in one of her first raids, she was too distracted by all of the shiny things to loot from the serthis sect they'd just driven away to listen to the warnings of the other mercenaries. And the first thing that caught all four of her eyes was a very fine set of knives, so sharp that even the light glinting off the blades looked like it could cut dragonscales.

Really, the fact that her heat-sensing eyes detected the knives should have made her consider something was off with them. Syra still holds that the chance they were cool fire knives made it worth the risk. But they were just cursed instead. Powerfully cursed, too. Not only can Syra not get rid of them, but each blade is semi-intelligent, trying to influence her to do various horrible and violent things. Like murder. And different murder. Knives aren't known for their creativity. Her parents saw the danger immediately, and forcibly sent her travelling to the Starfall Isles, where hopefully one of the arcane mages could figure out how to break the curse.

Sadly, nobody in any clan Syra visited knew how to break the curse. Not even any of the mages of Clan _______ could. Bozatrox's best attempts failed, Faeryn's chalcedony wards couldn't purge it, and Atuin just thought it was hilarious that somebody had a worse curse than any of his. But despite those failures, Srya didn't give up hope. Even with such an unbreakable curse, she had managed to make it all the way to the southernmost part of the Isles without stabbing anyone. Not even a little bit. And that was through her own cleverness, not any sort of magic.

The first thing Syra had realized was that the knives never agreed with each other. Wherever they contradicted each other, their powers of control cancelled out. So whenever a knife forces itself into her claws and tries to get her to go for the jugular, all she has to do pull out a second knife so that it tries to pull her towards attacking something else. As easily as that, she'll be free from both their influences for a while. As free as a possessed mirror holding two cursed knives can be, anyways.

To be fair, that doesn't entirely silence the blades. She'll be free of the compulsion for a while, but both weapons will be figuratively screaming in her mind until she does what they want. Or something close enough to what they want. They're not very smart, especially the dirk. Cleaning fish is usually bloody enough to get them to be quiet, especially if she makes a real mess of it. Sort of the opposite of cleaning, but it's not like Syra has ever cared how pretty her meals are.

But sometimes the curses have specific targets in mind. That can be a bit harder to deal with. Sometimes Syra will have to give a skydancer's mane an impromptu trim, and other times it's a quick knife toss to pin someone's hat to the wall. (That cursed metal can sink into stone or crystal just as easily as flesh.) At the worst times, Syra will have to gingerly tap a fae with the hilt of one of the blades, and hope that she won't break any bones in the process. She hasn't yet, but fae seem so impossibly frail to her that it feels like an eventuality. So, if Syra comes flying and screaming across the room to stab your dinner more times than strictly seems necessary, just remember that it's so that she doesn't have to stab you instead. Dragons still get annoyed with her when she does that, but Syra would like to remind them that other dragons around here do that too, but unlike her, none of them have an excuse.

Sonja has shown some interest in being the new owner of the knives — apparently she thinks being possessed by them sounds like a lot of fun. Unfortunately, they aren't the sort of curse that can be passed on if the new victim is aware and willing to bear it. They've tried, and only gotten into huge fights for their efforts as Syra is compelled to steal the blades back. Which to be fair, Sonja thinks are a lot of fun too.

Despite the fact that the knives have the risk of making her a danger to everyone, including herself, Syra has given each of them a friendly name. The wiggly one is named Thomas.