Synes
(#65454673)
Steady course for the haven, hew many foe-men
Familiar
Ancient Fungus
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.06 m
Wingspan
16.28 m
Weight
6770.55 kg
Genetics
Sunshine
Vipera
Vipera
Obsidian
Stripes
Stripes
Obsidian
Okapi
Okapi
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
103
AGI
25
DEF
10
QCK
51
INT
8
VIT
25
MND
10
Lineage
Biography
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The lost generation, that was what they called them. Them. The boys and girls sent off to a war at a far too tender age. Synes hailed from old, blood tinged nobility but even he was not safe from this. Just as others, he was sent off to join the frontlines, in a civil war whose origins he never learnt about. At some point, he doubted the culprits themselves knew it anymore. He was fine. He would survive. He survived so many things before. He survived his madness tainted, battle crazy mother and his domineering sisters. He survived finding his father, the only ally he had in this hive of a family, with broken gaze, empty eyes and slit throat, still sitting up, his beloved scrolls soaked crimson. He survived the toxic good night kiss his mother gave him that evening. In the trenches and on the battlefields, this was no different. He struggled and he fought, tooth and nail, to stay alive, to survive and see the next day. He killed his first enemy at a far too tender age. And the hurt this kill planted in his soul, echoed within long after he had abandoned the barren soil, the red tinged swamp of his childhood battles. Coming back home brought no relief either, he was constantly running from his mother, his sisters and his older brother. All of them out to get him in some way or the other. His mother, fickle and insane, prone to fly off the deep end at the smallest provocation and far too often even without one entirely. His sisters were no better. And then there was Oltea. His Brother. The one that should have protected him and instead opted for chasing him, for dragging him into his bed in misguided love turned obsession. Synes held on for so long, he served his family, he served and watched as one by one, his sisters disappeared, death came to claim those reckless, marriage and better things for those that knew how to control themselves. And he just watched, he smiled, because once, while still in the trenches, someone long dead once told him that his smile lightened the whole day. So he smiled. Wide and full. He trained long in front of the mirror, smiled until his cheeks hurt and then some. But no matter how hard he trained, he couldn’t make it reach his eyes, as dead and empty as those of the ones forgotten. He couldn’t even keep his smile when his brother finally caught him, dragged him off. When the doors locked and the windows only showed night’s murky darkness. When he snuck out of his childhood home, filled with misery and bad memories, he left without casting a look back over his shoulder. Living on his own was harder than expected, no army wanted him, the turncoat, worse, the deserter. But he could no longer remain with his family, with his clan. His side long gone, dissolved, everyone was on their own now. He somehow managed to get through the winter, scavenging and renting his spear to whoever wanted him and had coins or food to spare. Between cheap booze and the smell of sweat, he started to take a liking to one of the more familiar faces. She was a mercenary, just like him, returned to the same tavern after each job and here they met. They shared drink and sometimes they even shared the bed, loosely connected by physical pleasure and the hope that love could fix all the past hurts, the wounds that refused to heal. Instead, they ripped and tore at each other even more, their characters incompatible but he was too desperate to let go, swallowed and bowed down. They swore to each other, each job was the last one, they would get out of this life, settle down and do some honest work. They managed it when she fell pregnant, settled on a small farm somewhere nice. The work was hard and he had to do most of it. And when he came home, skin dusty and hands covered in blisters from having to work the fields, he still had to take care of their child, their son, because she was preferring to sharpen her blade, to train with others and fight in the local pub, forgetting that she had a child and a husband waiting for her. It was alright. He could take it. He could also take, that his son was born sick. The child cried, cried, cried, never stopped crying, like fire in his nervesystem, blades against his skin. He was so tired. He wanted rest. So he covered the child’s mouth with his blistering, wounded hand. He slept too long the next morning, the child in its crib, unmoving, silent. When she came home, reeking of booze and sweat, her screams woke him. And now she suddenly cared, now she was the one holding the motionless child. Now it was his fault. And when he smiled, she left. She cursed him and ever having met him, his empty smile and everything that had to do with him. Their farm fell in disrepair, nature retook his fields and the roof caved in from neglect. He cared little, because he too had long left this failed, rotting paradise. No gravestone, no marker. Nothing but memories and hurt. He picked up his spear again, rented out everything he owned, his strength, his mind, his body, if they wanted it, they could have it. Hollowed out eyes and empty smiles. Taihaku was only the last in a long line of many, many contractors; they put him in the army, gave him a title. Here, everything was twisted, beauty, secrets, it all laid bare here and no one cared as it was steadily veiled by the ever falling petals. In a system functioning by honor, Synes found it surprisingly easy to climb the ranks, ever higher. It never did anything against the hollow feeling inside his mind, against the coldness of his bones and the heaviness in his heart. Things went by unchanging for too long, far too long. Always the same faces in a war that was senseless, a repeat of his childhood, nothing ever truly changed, did it? Another war. Another blur of blood and screams and then there was pain in his side. Wounded, left to die as he crawled deeper into the thicket, between glowing mushrooms and eternal darkness. He was tired, he wanted to die. Thankfully, he didn’t. Who cared that men could only pass as concubines within Taihaku? Who needed to name what they had to begin with? Synes couldn’t care less as he returned, worn down and wounded, but smiling, like he always did, a Guardian in tow that was just as life worn as he was. His comrades acted like he never disappeared, like they never left him to bleed out and die. Synes didn’t hold it against them. Instead, he started to pull closer his only friend, his only love. Being around Albert soothed a deep seated hurt, seeing him confused and overwhelmed with the affection Synes threw at him, made him laugh like a child. Woe to those that tried to step between him and his, while never fighting side by side on the battlefield, Synes and Albert fell into a synch of the highest kind, moving as if they knew the thought of the other, between fangs flashing and blades digging deep into flesh and bone, they emerged victorious. As they should. Hurt was far too familiar a feeling, he could not press it down, could not swallow it any longer. Too much of it already, too much, he couldn’t take any more. A senseless war, another young life lost and as he returned home, he watched parents break down in tears, while he stood there, wide eyed, bloodied but alive. Maybe he should just fall on his spear, end this misery that he stood for. “Let it out.”, he flinched, hard, against the roughened hands cupping his cheeks, fingertips calloused by a life full of work, wet from tears he didn’t even know he was spilling. Golden eyes watched him, calm, knowing. Each heaving breath became shakier, a shudder of old agony rearing its head until he could not take it any more, collapsing on his knees and taking Albert down with him. They were broken and wounded, it was unfair of him to rely on the other’s support so much. Through tears and pain, he reacted on pure habit, smiled wide and charming, if only it had ever reached his eyes. “Don’t do that.” The same hands that dried his tears, over and over and over again, fell over his eyes, made him see only darkness, no expectations, nothing. He was nestled in the comfort of Albert’s warmth and darkness, he was safe and sound. As the sound of everyone but them bled away, save in his bubble of safety, he couldn’t help but chuckle, a terrible sound, morphed by misery but hardy enough to survive. “Shouldn’t I be the one doing this to you?”, he asked but made no move to let go, if anything he slipped deeper into the embrace, letting his blood tinged weapon clutter to the ground to better hold on. “I am the man after all.” “You are an idiot.”, the slap on the back of his head was gentle, soothed over by the same fingers tenderly brushing through silken hair, damp from sweat and tangled from dried blood. “Tis alright. You don’t need to be strong all the time.” |
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