StormcatcherHere » Lair » Holo

Holo

(#67318129)

The Messenger

Familiar

Living Luminance

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

21.48 m

Wingspan

17.32 m

Weight

6962.11 kg

Genetics

Peridot
Cherub

Peridot
Seraph

Peridot
Glimmer

Hatchday

Feb 13, 2021
(3 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Lightning
Uncommon

Level 5 Imperial

EXP: 640 / 5545

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Layel
Fern

Offspring

none

Biography

Holo

The Messenger

Past
The Mute Messenger

Once upon a time...
Poor Holo.
Beautiful Holo.
Crippled Holo.
Cherished Holo.
He had been bought for the pillar, another pretty face to remember and to forget. The Empress cared for power and efficiency, rarely for beauty. Whenever the Empress gazes at him, she sees countless imperfections, countess voices asking her again and again why she ever let him live, why she didn’t simply sentence him to Mercy or hand him over to the Heralds.

You should have left
Holo had arrived as a charismatic traveller, a careless wandering bard with a charm to him that none could match. He would have been perfect for her collection, her mockeries of the gods, if not for his countless imperfections. His form that was too drap, his eyes which were too bright but most of all his voice. Holo had a beautiful voice that could charm the dead. For a while he ran bringing messages from the Clan, a messenger.
This could not stand.
And so Holo lived, a charming messenger for the Clan. He had been quite happy with his position, contented with running messages back and forth, mapping out the Spires when he could. He had been happy. Until he wasn’t.

But you didn’t
Until one stormy day when Thunder shattered his world.
The Empress was delighted at her arrival, at the Spiral that knelt when she needed to kneel and bowed when she needed to bow. Thunder was a scientist through and through from her very bones, a lightning dragon with an insatiable hunger for progress. The Empress gifted her a hatchling as a welcome gift into the Clan, one Thunder had been far too happy to experiment and twist and mold into perfection.
Thunder fit into the Heralds with a ruthless devotion, bringing Spark to the Executioner’s pillar herself. Thunder had taken her seat as one of the Storm Heralds with her hands still wet with the previous owner’s blood.
As you can see, the Empress liked this very much.
The Empress started with Holo, bidding Thunder to do as she pleased, a little quieter, a little sharper please. She hid the instantly cauterized wounds behind flower garlands and offered no explanation to Holo’s sudden inability to speak.
It doesn’t matter.
Everyone in the Spires must have heard those screams.

Present
Are you the messenger or are you the message?

Run
Now the Messenger runs for the Empress. He runs and flies and tries to escape, but there’s no way out. His name stripped away, his voice silenced, Holo is just the Messenger, the deliverer. Dragons see him for only what he does, not who he was. His charisma all on the surface, but his voice torn away. Words that could charm the dead, but the voice ruined and stolen. Stripped away of all he was and all he could have been, Holo is the Messenger, and nothing more.

Remember
But is he the messenger or the message?
Holo is a reminder, a living tribute to what happens to those that oppose the Empress. Not that the Clan needs reminding anyways, they love her with an adoration and cling on so tight that they strangle. She may be a tyrant, but a kind tyrant.
Now, Holo bows and scrapes, kneeling to the Empress and all too happy to carry out an order, no matter how bloody it may be or how gruesome the result is.

Weep
But Holo does not hate the Empress.
Not anymore.
The Spires and the endless biting cold of the Forgotten have long since driven it out of him. Sometimes he weeps, but in silence as his voice is no more. Sometimes he screams, but there is no one to hear him and no one that cares.
But most of the time, he only gathers these messages and memories of pain, and he buries them down deep.
Why bother screaming when there's no one to hear you and no one who cares?

Plans
Run boy run

Omen
Perhaps Holo is not as useless as the Empress thinks. Other than running messenger, Holo does little but deliver trinkets all day. But he is a reminder, a living tribute to the Empress. Other clans that greet the Forgotten are met with Holo returning their peace offerings, Holo with his scars and mute Holo with his past.

Surrounded and Alone
Surrounded by dragons yet entirely alone, Holo only bears witness. He can see but cannot speak, he can hear but cannot tell. The Empress has taken away the one thing that mattered to him: his voice. Now he maps the Spires he knows by heart, drawing intricate routes into the parchment, hoping for a way out yet knowing full well that he would not take it.

Perhaps
Perhaps… just perhaps. A foolish hope, maybe, but a hope nonetheless. The Empress is not stupid, she knows what the gods planned when they banished her Clan to the Spires. It is the fire that drives her, the passion that burns inside her ashen and devastated heart.
Perhaps, just perhaps… The rabbit may find its way out of a lair of wolves.

ASSOCIATES

Allies | Enemies | Friends | Family | Other

Leaders
“I have delivered a head in a box as a peace greeting.”

The Empress
Kneel. she snares and Holo kneels.
Run she hisses and Holo runs.
Oh yes he does, he flies like the wind, his garlands hiding grisly scars left behind. The trembling dragons of the neighbouring Clan holds the package with wide eyes, lifting a shaking hand to tear it open.
Inside lies their Clan leader’s severed head, and beside it a single dagger.
A declaration of war and a proclamation of death.
You’ve signed your death warrant.
The Forgotten enjoyed the spoils of this small massacre quite well that night

Allies/Enemies/Other
“I am a rabbit in a pack of wolves, and my only way out is to run.”

Ceres
The former messenger only regards him with pity. The merchant now sells wares to the Clan, grateful that he has escaped Holo’s fate but knowing full well what he would become. The Empress is rarely satisfied, Ceres is no exception.

Xenon
Perhaps the mysterious seer is the only one who cares for Holo these days. A few whispers here and there, small words of comfort and warmth that keeps Holo going.
Be strong, little messenger, your time has yet to come.

CREDITS
Source | Source

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