Selvisk

Selvisk's name, when he was a hatchling, was Uselvisk. It meant "Selfless," in some old long-forgotten tongue; a small dialect likely related to the ancient one spoken in the Shifting Expanse. It represented everything that his parents hoped he and his siblings would be-- kind, generous, spreading peace wherever they went. A noble ambition, really, when one got right down to it. After all, one would expect such a strong gift for empathy to naturally make dragons kinder and gentler. The ability to bring such peace to others was a gift-- how could it be otherwise? And when he and his nestmates tumbled out of their eggs, with his brothers being twins no less, it was seen as cause for celebration. The Wardens hadn't been active in ages, and no new babies had been born from their founders since the time the Veilspun began to reveal themselves to Sornieth.

Well... except for the cursed line borne from his mother's dalliance... and the warrior line from his father's. But the return of his parents to each other, when the magic flowed thick and strong through the lands, was heralded as a time of great prosperity for all who knew what the Wardens were.

It came as no surprise that Selvisk's talents for sensing emotions developed early. He bore markings the color of the Stormcatcher's, and his egg had glowed the brightest of the clutch. But having one's talents develop so young, before one had learned to manage one's own emotions, was probably the worst curse young Selvisk could have borne. He went from a bright, talkative hatchling to quiet and self-effacing. The press of others' feelings against his mind was a terrible, terrible burden. The young coatl took to walking on eggshells around everyone, eager and desperate to please, just so that the weight of their frustrations and irritations didn't crush him. He started to take others' normally hidden, perfectly natural, day-to-day frustrations toward him as facts, in the way that a broken-home child constantly exposed to their parents' screaming matches starts to sincerely believe they're unlovable.

All of this made something dark and poisonous start to grow within Selvisk. He resented his siblings and "normal" dragons for their childhood ignorance, and he hated them for the burdens he saw placed on him-- in his mind, causing pain or discomfort to others made him a bad person, and the small irritations and slights that came with normal socializing made him feel like he couldn't win no matter what he did. And as he became more and more selfless, allowing himself to become more and more of a doormat so as not to irritate anyone around him, a new kind of irritation arose-- he had become servile and needy, neither of which were attractive qualities in a friend or family member.

The talent for manipulating emotions awoke not long after, with a raw violence that nobody who'd known him since childhood could ever have expected. Not even his parents had been able to see how deeply his gift for empathy had poisoned his soul. Selvisk walked around a corner and was immediately hit with a wall of disdain-- two clanmates had had a rough day, and they absolutely did not want to deal with putting their feelings away just so he wouldn't get nervous and apologetic. So sensitive was Selvisk's gift that he could feel all the little nuances: how he exhausted them, how they felt like prisoners when he was around, how claustrophobic it was to have to be calm around him. He couldn't blame them for hating him, even if his curse wasn't his fault.

Later, Selvisk would point to that inability to blame them for tipping him over the edge. There was absolutely no way he could help being so exposed, and he tried to isolate himself as much as possible, but he couldn't even walk to the food storage area without being saddled with the guilt and pain that his mere presence made his Clanmates, justifiably, angrier. No matter what he did, his best was not good enough. And it would never be good enough.

In that moment, every little tiny bit of rage Selvisk had ever felt, every bit of resentment he had for being an emotional dumping ground, every bit of grief for his childhood robbed by the constant press of very adult feelings, every bad day everyone else had ever had without considering how raw and exhausted and broken his mind was, came out at once. He just wanted them to have to feel it, for once-- he wanted them to have to listen, to exhaust themselves, to deal with the weight of the world crushing the life from them. The maelstrom of violence and bloodshed and chaos around him was later described as awe-inspiring, with Selvisk cackling like a madman in the eye of the storm. Any time someone went to attack him, he would crush them with the guilt he'd had to live with his entire life. Selvisk's rage and pain slowly gave way to sadistic glee-- he'd been made to feel powerless and broken, dancing to the beat of everyone else's drum, since his gift awoke. Now, though, now they danced for him.

Of course, after a while, Selvisk's vengeance-high wore off. It wasn't in his nature deep down, not really, to want to destroy others. Once he'd exhausted himself, and the reality of what he'd done caught up with him, Selvisk started to tremble with utter horror at what he'd become. In his warped mind, everything negative everyone had ever thought about him had been confirmed true in that moment. In the time of shock and despair, before the desire for vengeance hit his lairmates, Selvisk fled.

The young Warden lived like a feral thing for a while, weaponizing the hurt in his heart to drive everyone away, weather they meant him harm or not. He dropped the 'U' from the beginning of his name, leaning into selfishness, embracing the monster he felt he'd become. If he was evil by nature, there was no point in kindness, was there? His family's magic originated with his parents, which made him all the more potent, all the more deadly. Selvisk eventually set up a little den for himself, and was able to enforce his solitude-- which meant, for the first time since he'd been able to form memories, that the inside of his head was blessedly, blessedly silent.

At least, until a battered old Skydancer rooster with a mind that felt emotionless and flat showed up. Selvisk hit the intruder with everything he had, and the Skydancer's response was just, "...really, kid? You're embarrassing yourself. And me." Selvisk kept hammering at him, and the rooster just sighed. "Alright, if you're sure you wanna play that game..."

The coatl woke up several hours later with a fuzzy memory and the echoes of pain bad enough to snap him like a dry twig bouncing around his skull. "Alright, kid, let's try this again. My name's Fiver. And you're trespassing."

It was tense at first, but eventually, Fiver taught him how to get a handle on his gift. How to control it, move it, work with it. How to turn it from a storm threatening to break loose into a rapier-precise weapon. Perhaps the best thing of all, though, was that Fiver taught him shielding. Now, Selvisk could have the silence as much as he wanted.

In his adult life, Selvisk is not what one would expect a Warden to be. He doesn't feel the emotions of others unbidden any more, and his own are intensely private; even other Wardens sense him as the inoffensive, flat, boring grey of his shields. Selvisk will help others, but only if they make it worth his time: the circle of people he cares for or about is very very small, so the easiest way to do that is with cold hard treasure. Selvisk after his gift had been trained was a lot like Devaduta before hers had awakened. He has a code of honor, which was more than he could say for his adolescence and early adulthood, but being honorable doesn't require being kind or nice or even merciful, depending on context.

He's intensely loyal to those he feels have earned it. They know who they are. If someone has to ask, they can rest assured that they didn't make the cut. The surest way to earn Selvisk's wrath, though, is to offer disrespect, insult, or discomfort to his beloved wife Galla. She is the apple of his eye, and he does not tolerate anything that would make her unhappy. Selvisk would sacrifice everything else in the world to keep her safe and happy. Everything. The only time strangers ever get to see him smile, it's directed at her.

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Generation 1 I am a Warden of the Lost! Wardens are dragons gifted with the unique ability to sense and manipulate emotions. They descend from Devaduta and Raksaka, the very first of their kind and the most powerful. This magic manifests in many different ways in their heirs, from being able to read emotions to seeking vengeance on those who have caused others a great deal of pain. While Raksaka and Devaduta paved the way, it is ultimately up to their descendants whether this gift will go down in history as something to be feared and hated or as a beacon of hope in dark times. Click the badge to learn more! Wardens of the Lost lineage: Raksaka & Devaduta >> Selvisk

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