Omen
(#70390217)
"The Solstice reign ends with me."
Hunter
Hati
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
30.41 m
Wingspan
21.76 m
Weight
7755.66 kg
Genetics
Ice
Iridescent
Iridescent
Smoke
Alloy
Alloy
Lead
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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p r o f i l e
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The mirror in Omen’s room was never used, not commonly at least. Not for any specific reason, he just never had a use for it. In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure why he put it up in the first place. For years, it was hidden under a thick tarp, held up by a string and two nails to the wall across his bed. It sat there, unused and practically forgotten about as Omen lived his life. This all changed when he heard screaming coming from downstairs. That fateful night of his brother’s disappearance. His life was flipped upside down, and with it, everything he ever knew. It was like his parents didn’t know him anymore. One night they were having dinner together, all of them as one happy family, and then it was like they were strangers living under the same roof. His parents often sat in their room for hours as he heard talking and crying and shouting; Insignia kept to himself, no more music streaming from his closed door. He never exited his room, the only interaction he held was inside it, with his parents or with the occasional tutor as he studied and worked to be next in line for the crown. No one visited him ever. Like his brother senior to him, he spent his days in his room, stretching his legs by pacing, doing his studying by candlelight at the desk in his room, entertaining himself by practising battling with the trident he kept with him, imagining invisible foes surrounding him on all sides as he parried, swung, shouted, and sweat up a storm. Gone were the days of the bright and cheerful house of Solstice. Gone was the life of the Unseeing Manor. Gone was the Omen that Athens and Chell once knew, for in the depths of the forgotten mirror came a voice, one evening, beckoning the middle child, the forgotten child, the worthless child. “Come,” it said. “I know you can hear me, prince of Solstice. Omen, son of Chell, daughter of Cryopathy, the Solstice King, the one that felled The Beast the Night Alone Sees. Come.” For days, Omen ignored the voice. Believing himself to be turning insane, delirious, he kept his mouth shut, forcing himself to not look at the covered mirror, afraid of what he might see if the tarp fell. The whispers called to him, pleaded with him, berated him until he could handle it no longer; he yanked off the cover to the mirror and saw the shadow lurking behind him. Raising his weapon and spinning around to face the stranger, he was met with an empty room, no trace of the silhouette of the figure he saw in the mirror. However, when he looked back, he was met with the grin of a dull golden dragon, taking up the space where his reflection used to be. “You know me not,” it said. Its voice was a hiss, nothing more than the whistle of a breeze, filling the room. “But you soon will.” “What are you?” Omen’s voice was strong, yet the dragon in front of him laughed, sensing his fear and uncertainty. “I am your grandfather’s undoing. I am your father’s demise.” His eyes looked through him as his mouth widened into a smile, showing rows of sharp teeth, curved like the blades of a Kamaitachi. “I am your saviour.” Omen didn’t sleep at all that night. The mirror was kept on the wall, the dirty tarp back on to cover the reflection. Yet he still heard the whispers, felt the desire of the thing in the mirror. It promised power. It promised him wisdom beyond mortal comprehension. It promised him an end to this godforsaken abandonment. He had enough. With a cry of anger, he grabbed his trident that lay beside his bed and flung it at the mirror. The force of the throw shattered the glass, blowing glass all around the room, across the floor, leaving the wooden ground a minefield. The silver weapon embedded itself in the wall behind it, leaving holes in the dark wallpaper. Omen felt his chest heave as breaths refused to leave his chest. The room was silent, save for the whistling of the wind outside his window. The whistling became louder, and louder, until it sounded like laughter. “Princeling,” the dark voice said in a sing-song manner. “Have you thought about our deal?” The voice echoed, becoming louder and louder, almost deafening as Omen screamed until he couldn’t hear his own voice. The sun was up. The young dragon’s eyes opened. It was morning, and the mirror was covered, intact, with no sign of the voice that had plagued him in his nightmare. Shakily, Omen stood up and made his way to the mirror in front of him. There was no voice. Slowly, he reached up and grabbed the tarp, pulling it down and off of the smooth surface. The dull gold dragon was standing where he should have been, smiling at him. “Aren’t you tired of being in the shadows?” it asked. “I can change that for you.” The stranger in the mirror reached out, his arm extending past the mirror to Omen’s side. “Will you not shake a poor sinner’s hand?” He looked upon the dragon beyond mortal planes, thinking of his siblings, his parents, and the way they never seemed to care. They were his family. The only family he had ever known. They were the family that weren’t there when he needed them the most. The Solstice son reached up and grabbed the other’s hand firmly, and the golden dragon smiled. “My name is Solemn. The Solstice reign ends with us.” |
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