hartbleat » Lair » Abernathy

Abernathy

(#70471755)

Level 1 Imperial

Familiar

Kelpie

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

24.72 m

Wingspan

22.53 m

Weight

8437.69 kg

Genetics

Obsidian
Iridescent

Obsidian
Shimmer

Obsidian
Glimmer

Hatchday

Jun 27, 2021
(2 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Unusual

Level 1 Imperial

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

Winning post by hartbleat:

Daily Theme: The Slaughter
Applicable CW & Additional Notes: Body Horror, Mentions of Speciesism(?), Mentions of War.
I wanted to explore the concept of 'Emperors'- which I feel are the closest thing Flight Rising has to the Magnus Archive's 'Piper', or a similar creation of the Slaughter!

Statement of Abernathy, regarding her encounter with a past best left undisturbed. Original statement given 8 rotations past Brightshine, on Sorineth’s 4851st orbit. Audio recording by the Archivist, stationed at the Oculus Institute of the Sunbeam Ruins. Statement begins.

---

“Can you imagine how it feels, to know your own creator regrets you? I’m sure you don’t- when the Tidekeeper built your sort, he sure seemed chuffed. Named you ‘Guardians’, the pretentious lout. I’m sure the Lightweaver was more than happy to see one of you born into her domain, help her keep all her oddities under lock and keep, or whatever you lot do here. Must have been nice, to get her approval.

Sorry, that might be a bit harsh, but you have to see where I’m coming from. My entire species was labelled as her ‘one big regret’, and it’s impossible to go anywhere around here without getting dirty looks. Mind you, nobody tries anything. I’m built for war, quite literally, and nobody’s really brave enough to get a swipe in. Snide comments, though, that’s another story.

Sounds so fancy, don’t it? ‘Imperial’. Something out of a history book. Which is sort of what this whole thing is about- but sort of not. Sorry, sorry, I’ll get to the point.

Right, so. My name is Abernathy, but you know that already. Filled it out on your little form. Your receptionist is an interesting sort. Not very chatty. Not sure I liked her much- pass that on to whoever’s in charge here, if it ain’t you. I’m a student, er, a student of her own path. Got kicked out of school, not important, explained that enough to my lair- and, well, decided to sort things out myself. I figured that this place is so full of useless junk from the past, I could make a decent living sorting out the trash from the treasure and scurrying across the border to sell to some of them hoarding Ridgebacks.

Might not be strictly legal, but you know how it is. What with everyone avoiding me, being an Imperial comes with some perks. Nobody really questions you picking through trash in the ruins- they reckon you’re old enough that you’re just taking things you used to own a millennia ago. Not many people consider that sometimes two Imperials like to settle down and hatch a few more.

I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this- I usually just say I’m working on my archaeology degree at some local uni. You’re a good conversationalist, despite not saying squat! Your receptionist could take notes, I reckon. Kinda freaky- you got a face I just wanna spill everything to. But I won’t jabber much about the unimportant stuff. You probably want to hear about the book. And the Emperor.

The book itself was nothing special- something I picked up at some crusty little shop just out of Lanternlea. I’d finished pilfering my wares from some abandoned houses down south, and needed a spark to set me off in a new direction. Hopefully something close to the Trading Post, but far enough from the Hewn City I didn’t have to worry about running into any angry ghosts. Just a note: you lot should maybe consider a move? Ghosts are the least of my worries now, but I’m sure there are plenty more ‘supernaturally-touched’ folks who ain’t too keen on a stroll down the most haunted place in Sorineth just to get their stories logged.

I’d thought it was a guide of the area out east- seemed old enough to have a few maps in it that could lead to uncovered treasure. Was more of a diary, really- someone had scrolled all over the margins, even over the words. The maps themselves were written over in cursive, making them pretty much unusable. I had a right fit when I figured this out- spent some well-earned gold for it, because the codgy shopkeep wouldn’t let me flick through the thing before I handed them over. I’d been swindled, which was awful, because I was meant to be doing the swindling!

After a while, though, I figured I could fudge this off as an antique, a glimpse into the life of the old settlers. Seemed to mention ‘war’ an awful lot, in what I could understand, so this was probably during one of our squabbles with the Shadow folk. Never really minded them myself- hard to hate someone when you’re treated just like them by your own people- but our history wasn’t exactly peachy-keen when it came to leaving well enough alone.

Did have a bookplate on it- something mentioning a bloke named ‘Leitner’? Apparently this was taken from his library, and sold off to the dodgy shopkeep. I admit, I still hold some respect for whatever enterprising businessman decided to earn a few coins by dodging the late return fee. Don’t really recall a bloke named ‘Leitner’ owning a library, though he could always be one of those hoity-toity folk building a private collection in the Promenade.

I had to head out east, anyway- could probably spot a few more finds before I swung south to the Trading Post, and the maps still had some parts readable. It was a long, boring, and uneventful trek out there- believe me, you don’t want me to bore you with how many times I had to eat bugs and weeds and larks to keep myself going. I’ve never been too great at hunting- seems even the animals here are afraid of me- but things seemed even more quiet than I was used to. Don’t want to write that one off to the book as well, but… I do have my suspicions.

Eventually I reached some broken roads, empty half-crushed houses, the like. Typical wartime ruins. Stealing might not be the most honest job, but it does teach you where the most valuable loot is- and that’s usually where things look oldest. And these ruins were old.

Now, I’ve only lived for about a decade, so I’m sure a couple centuries to you feels like no time at all. But a lot of the ruins around Sunbeam are only, at most, two hundred years old. Dragons build over the older ones, you see- add more things, then get run out or die out when their children leave or some familiars attack the shoddy structures. But these ones had to be pushing five hundred, judging by the disrepair. I’ll be honest, though- all I was really seeing was gold.

I got a bit greedy. You’re not supposed to get greedy- that’s how you get caught. No matter how much I have going for me in terms of intimidation- you try to do back-alley dealings at the Trading Post with pockets bulging, you get done in. But everything looked so valuable- the pottery, the crusty old books, the ratty tapestries and bedsheets. I had half a mind to go back and get a wagon, but I didn’t want to risk someone else running into my goldmine. So I ran from house to house, ruin to ruin, trying to find the best of the best, and I-

I found the graveyard.

It’s probably wrong to call it a graveyard- there weren’t any markers. Or any graves. But it sure seemed like one- bodies strewn across the ground, skeletons for most folk… and still, lifeless bodies for the Imperials. Still had all the meat on them. Like it hadn’t been a day since they’d fallen.

You’re not supposed to do that. Supposed to leave the bodies out like that, so close to each other. It’s dangerous. When my grandpa had died, my family had flown halfway across Sunbeam to lay him to rest. Any closer would be fatal. Would mean we’d all become a part of him, once we carked it.

I was scared. I ain’t too proud to avoid saying it. You might not know, but- okay, imagine you stumbled across a lair of Guardians, all with no charge- cause all their charges got taken from them. It’s wrong. It’s something that should never happen- something that causes your very blood to rebel.

I wanted to book it, I really did- if I slipped and hit my head, or Light forbid, just dropped dead ‘cause our creator forgot to give us stable lifespans- I could risk building a monster.

But I didn’t. Book it, that is. I mean, in one sense of the word, I did- because I started reading the book. And I realised something.

I’d thought that this thing was a diary, scribbled over by some poor sucker who couldn’t find a blank book to write in. But as Iooked closer, I noticed that there wasn’t just one set of handwriting. There were three- distinct scrawlings, different sizes, and the words argued with each other. Like three hatchlings had fought over one pen- but the text was too neat to come from any hatchling, the words too coherent. I’d spent so much time trying to look past the scribblings to read the maps, I hadn’t noticed what they were saying.

There wasn’t any mention of the Shadow Flight. This had been a war amongst their own clan- of Imperials versus the rest of them. And they’d won. The Imperials, that is. My own folk. They’d raized this entire village to the ground, and the three victors had lauded their violent betrayal in the pages of the only book surviving that listed their clan’s history.

I stopped reading. I looked back at the corpses. And I noticed that… those Imperial corpses seemed very close. Closer than I’d first thought- I was too jittery to spare them any attention once I’d counted their heads. But those heads led to necks. Which led to… a body.

Just one.

You’re not supposed to leave an Imperial’s body too close to another. Because the Lightweaver did mess up, when she made us. Get too close to another, and you’re not staying in the ground much longer. You don’t stay an Imperial- you become an Empire.

They weren’t dead. They were sleeping.

I dropped the book. I needed to get out of there- I was weighed down by so much junk, and I had to untie my saddle bags. I was so focused on running my claws through the laces, I didn’t quite notice the arm reaching out. Grabbing the book. The eyes sliding open- all six of them.

I did notice the growl. I did notice my bags suddenly hit the floor. I did notice the fact that my racing heartbeat started sounding like drums- like a call to war.

I escaped, somehow. Obviously. I’m here. I flew in whatever direction the Emperor wasn’t heading- ended up across the border, shacking up in Wistwillow. Folks there didn’t take too kindly to a Light dragon, especially one so nerve-wracked. Thought I was suspicious- but I’m sure suspicious people are dime-a-dozen in the Tangled Wood. I couldn’t bring myself to care about their jeers and odd looks- I was too horrified. Of what I’d done. Of what I’d awakened.

I know you probably need to hand me in, after telling you this. Call the Lightkeeper’s guards, have them deal with me. Throw me off the Beacon’s cliffs, probably. But I don’t mind. As long as they bury me somewhere far off- where no other Imperial can ever see me again- I’ll be happy.

Because I still hear it. I still hear the drums, in every beat of my heart. Still hear their thundering footsteps. Still hear the screams and cries of those who thought the Emperors had been lost in the dust and ash of history. And the worst thing is- I hear their gratitude. The whispering ‘thank yous’ of a family re-awakened. And I just want it all to stop.”

---

Statement ends.

Well. If this statement is telling the truth, this means that Abernathy here was responsible for the rise of Luminax, who’s been a thorn in the side of the Sunbeam Ruins for about half a century. I can’t find any arrest records matching Abernathy’s details, so it’s safe to say that either the Lightweaver’s enforcers are entirely incompetent, Gertrude failed to hand her in to the authorities, or said records are classified. I wish I could believe it was the latter, but Gertrude’s opinion on justice and the law was notoriously… lax. She probably sent Abernathy home with advice to follow-up with the Institute if she ever started to experience sudden murderous rage.

There’s not much else to be researched here- obviously, Abernathy no longer possesses the Leitner- and if her story is to be believed, it’s currently in the hands of the most dangerous creature roaming Sorineth. There’s not much to be done about that- even I’m not cruel enough to send Blackwood over for retrieval. The facts are clear, though- Luminax did indeed rise on the 4851st rotation, just after Brightshine. If this is a hoax, it’s one done in remarkably poor taste.

I do feel personally affected by this statement, much more than I’d like to be. Gertrude might not have understood, but there’s something deeply personal about being an Imperial and… knowing that creatures like that exist because of you. Though I obviously disagree with Abernathy’s opinions on the Lightweaver, who by all accounts has the right to feel horrified with what we became.

I know it’s hypocritical to say this, considering my job… but perhaps, sometimes, the horrors of the past are best left undisturbed.

End recording.

@Saronai wrote:

Inky spectres, barely visible and entirely unnoticed slipped out of their prison the day the Great Library crumbled into ruins on one side. These wisps of The Shade, trapped together no longer, gathered from fragments in tainted tomes and artifacts. All of them strange, many dangerous, secreted into a warded archive by one Jurgen Lightner. Warded no longer.

Many appear to originate from The Ghostlight Ruins, others...well, no flight’s territory remains completely untouched by The Shade, does it?

Those who built their nests far too close to that secret archive paid the ultimate price, though no one found a trace of them in the aftermath. Only their eggs remained, infected by the fear-drenched fragments of shade, some more than others, perhaps. Either way, this invasive presence transformed all of them to their very core, resulting in one of the Shadeborn.

While these unlucky hatchlings are not contagious like those with a more shallow infection, they must feed it magic, and eventually their descent into madness is nearly assured. At that point, no matter how steadfast they were as guardians against The Shade, they may end up as agents spreading its fear and terror.

---

This hatchling was, perhaps, one of the luckier ones. Fostered by loving mothers Caesalpinia and Lehua into young adulthood, the couple did their best to prepare and help young Abernathy find her place in the world while keeping her taint of Shade firmly in check. Suffering from the same affliction, her foster mothers, together with the help of Light and Art therapist, Yavie, worked with the young dragon in an atmosphere of compassion and understanding.

Abernathy parted ways knowing she was always welcome back, even for just a visit and encouraged to keep up with the therapeutic techniques designed to starve the Shade by feeding her love and passions for life.

"Endeavor never to be lonely, little heart, you have a place with us whenever you find yourself in need of a home, or just a visit. We will miss you."

- Lehua & Caeselpinia

Bio template by @Saronai 2021
Images link to their respective threads or creators.
Full list of credits at this post.

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Abernathy to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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