Arcturius

Arcturius
The Clan's King
Alchemist

The Ice Golem

Avala used to be a living dragon; she's had her hatchlings and mates in the past, and had a fairly quiet life. One day while she was searching for some bugs to snack on in the icefields, she had climbed as far up a mountain as she could handle, her smallish wings not being much help in propelling her forward. She found a beehive, on one of the lowest branches on a fir tree, so Avala gripped the bark and climbed up the tree, the idea of fresh, soft honey with little bees wriggling inside making her stomach growl. She reached the branch, and climbed on top of it so she could sit and enjoy her meal for once. She glanced around, now high up on the mountain, and even higher up on the tree; She could see the twisting crescendo in the distance, always swirling, always dancing. She thought she could make out small figures of other dragons, probably imperials, letting themselves be taken and flung by the heavy winds. She smiled at the sight, and reached down to the beehive on the underside of the branch. She took one big bite out of the entire beehive, and made a little humming sound as she munched away, a few angry bees flitting around her. She swatted at one while shoving the last bite into her mouth, but she had let go of the branch to swat at the bee. Avala felt gravity yank her down, and her little wings, futile, tried to press against the air and gravity, but to no avail.
She expected her life to flash before her eyes, as she felt herself dropping; instead, she worried about her clanmates finding her dead, frozen like a block of ice, contorted into an odd position from her fall, eyes sunken from weeks of slow, freezing decay. She contemplated crying as she fell, but didn't have the time ----
THUMP

The dragoness doesn't remember much after the fall. She remembers falling. She remembers the biting cold, seeping into her skin. She remembers her own breath stuck in her lungs, she remembers being thirsty, yet frozen water was all around her and somehow her mind found amusement in that last moment. She remembers the taste of honey stuck between her teeth, the meal that caused her demise.
But she doesn't remember waking up.

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Arcturius had been on a trip to find more alchemy ingredients, leaving Sere in charge of the clan while he found the best and most useful ingredients. His journey had taken him to the southern icefields, a small clan that was friendly enough to let him barter with them. He was never sure whether they were interested in the treasure he carried, or if they were simply intimidated by his size; either way, it usually got him what he needed. After his trade, he bound up his purchase to the small alchemists bag he carried, and began heading out of the small dragon village. Orienting himself by the ever-lasting, massive hurricane hanging in the distance, he headed home. He silently thanked the great eleven for having been born an ice dragon, the cold was heavy and bitter and nipped at his fingers and toes. He climbed a small mountain, and once at the top, he sat on his tail and used it like a sled, zipping down the mountain. While speeding down the mountainside, he saw a soft blue glimmer in the snow, and stopped himself, brushing the powered snow off of his beard and mane before peeking at the bluish shape in front of him.
It was a dragon, a small bogsneak female, and it looked like she fell, either while flying or climbing, and met her end.
Arc gave her a good look over, seeing if there was any chance she was still alive. He doubted it, but poked her side with a claw, only to find that she literally felt like a chunk of ice, glassy and hard. After tapping the dragon, he noticed a faint blue glow inside her, and took a few steps back. Nothing happened. He stepped close again, and the glow became stronger. Arcturius felt compelled to touch where the blue light was the strongest, right between her eyes. His scales touched her forehead, and he suddenly felt like he was inside of a blizzard, and as if he was thrown back with great force. He hadn't actually moved, but the blue light became so bright it turned pure white and clouded his vision. He tried letting go of Avala, but instead was met with even more light and heavy snow. He stood there, one hand on her forehead, when it finally subsided. He withdrew his hand, looking down at it in wonder. It's like none of it had happened; no inkling of a blizzard was visible. Did he imagine it? Before he could think about it further, the lifeless dragoness shifted, and he heard soft jingling noises as if hail was falling as she raised herself off the ground. She still looked like a block of ice. The blue light had subsided, and left a clear, ice-sculpture like dragoness before Arc, faint shadows of a skull and other bones inside of her form. The iced dragon smiled at Arc, and spoke in a soft, almost bell-like tone "Thank you for saving me"

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