Legacy
(#64139439)
Hate breeds hate.
Familiar
Spectre Wyvern
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Spiral
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.63 m
Wingspan
2.84 m
Weight
51.12 kg
Genetics
Antique
Tiger
Tiger
Silver
Stripes
Stripes
Antique
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
Deep in the Wispwillow Grove, a lone Spiral slinks through the undergrowth. Her eyes, a bluish-violet, are hooded. She keeps her gaze lowered, afraid to look up and see watchful eyes glaring back at her. The path forward is lit with hundreds of bioluminescent mushrooms, turning her offwhite coloring into a gray-blue. The Driftwood Drag is not much farther; if she hurries, she would be there in mere minutes.
She chances a look back. Shrill whistles reach her ears; sounds only a Coatl could form. Sure enough, irises the color of blackberries glint in the blackness, framed by creamy white feathers. The Spiral bolts, looping her body past dense thickets and around thin pines, trying to lose Trumalen in the Wood. A flurry of wingbeats sound behind her, which means Mosca and Nekonata are on her tail. The landscape screams past her in a blur of purple and blue. Her siblings' laughter bounce off of the trees, disorienting her. They think that this is a mere chase, a game of tag. She pins her ears back to muffle their shrieks of delight. If they knew what she was fleeing from, they would not be cackling so.
Finally, she bursts through the trees, reaching the edge of the Shadowbinder's domain. Without hesitation, she dives under the gently lapping waves, using her long body to propel herself through the water in a corkscrew fashion. As soon as her head hits the water, the laughter disappears. She can picture Nata’s single eye narrowing in confusion and Mosca pouting now that the chase was over. Trumalen's angry hisses follow her persistently, and she swims on. She must not let him catch her; the penalty for escaping him will be far worse than if she had obediently stayed.
Coming up for air is suicide. If her snout breaks the waves for even a moment, the Coatl's black-and-red plumage will suffocate her immediately. It might be better to drown. She would die free from him instead of entangled in the brush, her screams mistaken for the stalking and howling creatures of the night. If only she trusted her siblings enough to tell them the truth about their ire-filled father and his hatred of breeds that were not his own. If only her mother hadn't disappeared one night and he hadn't tried to cover it up. The Spiral's mind fills with anger, and her vision fades to black.
She coughs up buckets of freshwater into the shallow pool she finds herself in. A low shelf of loam fences in the circular shoal, and she shakes out her limp wings to survey the area.
"Hello!" A vibrant purple Tundra pokes his head down a tail-length from her face, startling her out of the air. She splashes down into the pool noisily, glaring at the overly friendly dragon.
"I'm Hywl." He introduces himself and leaps down into the shoal with her. His wings are a grayish brown and flare out to steady his landing. "I've never met a shadow dragon before... at least, I don't think so. What are you doing way out here?"
That was a good question. Where was here, anyways?
The Tundra barrels on. "The Tsunami Flats are as good a place as any to end up. There's lots of fish! I don't like fish... but there's also seaweed! I don't know much about Spirals, do you like seaweed? Maybe I could share..."
For the record, she does not like seaweed. But the Tsunami Flats, he says? That's quite a distance from the Tangled Wood. How did she manage to survive swimming the entire Sea?
"...and I have no idea where they've gone, though I'm sure I would know 'em if I smelled 'em- hey! Where are you going?"
She wings into the sky and scans her surroundings. Blue as far as the eye could see. The Tangled Wood and the Scarred Wasteland are nowhere to be seen. Sunbeam Ruins and the Windswept Plateau are smudges. Good. The further she is from Trumalen, the better. The safer. She turns south and begins flying, eager to put as much distance between her and her birthplace as possible.
"Come back!" Hwyl cries. She nearly ignores him in favor of her destination, but then a thought occurs to her. She doubles back to hover in front of the talkative Tundra.
She tilts her head to one side, considering him. "You'll do," she decides.
"Do what?"
"You'll help me take revenge on my father," she snaps. "Come on."
He obediently follows when she begins flapping towards land. "Um, where exactly are you taking me?"
She makes a split-second decision. "The Ashfall Waste."
"But why?"
"Because it's closer."
"Why can't we just stay here?"
"Because it's too close."
If her paradoxical words confuse him, Hywl doesn't show it. They manage to soar on the warmer air currents for a long time before he finally speaks again.
"Hey, I didn't catch your name."
It isn't exactly a question, but it isn't a statement either. She is tempted to give him her birth name, but decides against it. She would forget it too. It was of no importance any longer. Instead, she thinks on it for a moment before settling on one that fits her perfectly.
"Legacy."
She chances a look back. Shrill whistles reach her ears; sounds only a Coatl could form. Sure enough, irises the color of blackberries glint in the blackness, framed by creamy white feathers. The Spiral bolts, looping her body past dense thickets and around thin pines, trying to lose Trumalen in the Wood. A flurry of wingbeats sound behind her, which means Mosca and Nekonata are on her tail. The landscape screams past her in a blur of purple and blue. Her siblings' laughter bounce off of the trees, disorienting her. They think that this is a mere chase, a game of tag. She pins her ears back to muffle their shrieks of delight. If they knew what she was fleeing from, they would not be cackling so.
Finally, she bursts through the trees, reaching the edge of the Shadowbinder's domain. Without hesitation, she dives under the gently lapping waves, using her long body to propel herself through the water in a corkscrew fashion. As soon as her head hits the water, the laughter disappears. She can picture Nata’s single eye narrowing in confusion and Mosca pouting now that the chase was over. Trumalen's angry hisses follow her persistently, and she swims on. She must not let him catch her; the penalty for escaping him will be far worse than if she had obediently stayed.
Coming up for air is suicide. If her snout breaks the waves for even a moment, the Coatl's black-and-red plumage will suffocate her immediately. It might be better to drown. She would die free from him instead of entangled in the brush, her screams mistaken for the stalking and howling creatures of the night. If only she trusted her siblings enough to tell them the truth about their ire-filled father and his hatred of breeds that were not his own. If only her mother hadn't disappeared one night and he hadn't tried to cover it up. The Spiral's mind fills with anger, and her vision fades to black.
~~~~~
She coughs up buckets of freshwater into the shallow pool she finds herself in. A low shelf of loam fences in the circular shoal, and she shakes out her limp wings to survey the area.
"Hello!" A vibrant purple Tundra pokes his head down a tail-length from her face, startling her out of the air. She splashes down into the pool noisily, glaring at the overly friendly dragon.
"I'm Hywl." He introduces himself and leaps down into the shoal with her. His wings are a grayish brown and flare out to steady his landing. "I've never met a shadow dragon before... at least, I don't think so. What are you doing way out here?"
That was a good question. Where was here, anyways?
The Tundra barrels on. "The Tsunami Flats are as good a place as any to end up. There's lots of fish! I don't like fish... but there's also seaweed! I don't know much about Spirals, do you like seaweed? Maybe I could share..."
For the record, she does not like seaweed. But the Tsunami Flats, he says? That's quite a distance from the Tangled Wood. How did she manage to survive swimming the entire Sea?
"...and I have no idea where they've gone, though I'm sure I would know 'em if I smelled 'em- hey! Where are you going?"
She wings into the sky and scans her surroundings. Blue as far as the eye could see. The Tangled Wood and the Scarred Wasteland are nowhere to be seen. Sunbeam Ruins and the Windswept Plateau are smudges. Good. The further she is from Trumalen, the better. The safer. She turns south and begins flying, eager to put as much distance between her and her birthplace as possible.
"Come back!" Hwyl cries. She nearly ignores him in favor of her destination, but then a thought occurs to her. She doubles back to hover in front of the talkative Tundra.
She tilts her head to one side, considering him. "You'll do," she decides.
"Do what?"
"You'll help me take revenge on my father," she snaps. "Come on."
He obediently follows when she begins flapping towards land. "Um, where exactly are you taking me?"
She makes a split-second decision. "The Ashfall Waste."
"But why?"
"Because it's closer."
"Why can't we just stay here?"
"Because it's too close."
If her paradoxical words confuse him, Hywl doesn't show it. They manage to soar on the warmer air currents for a long time before he finally speaks again.
"Hey, I didn't catch your name."
It isn't exactly a question, but it isn't a statement either. She is tempted to give him her birth name, but decides against it. She would forget it too. It was of no importance any longer. Instead, she thinks on it for a moment before settling on one that fits her perfectly.
"Legacy."
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Exalting Legacy to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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