Bedoch
(#75891573)
Level 1 Imperial
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.27 m
Wingspan
21.77 m
Weight
7060.65 kg
Genetics
Hickory
Savannah
Savannah
Goldenrod
Blend
Blend
Cream
Ringlets
Ringlets
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
xxxxxBedoch was a passenger on the train of time: would his next stop be in the past or the future? He never knew until it was too late. Others asked him why he never used an hourglass to keep time when he trained. He simply pursed his lips and kept his head low, not wanting to say anything for fear of judgement. In reality, time had lost all meaning to him.
xxxxxHis life was only marked by distinct goals waiting to be attained: the same journey to the same battlefield, the same search for the same person. Scouring the land for someone as magnanimous as the Valkyrie leader should’ve been an easy feat, but it seemed that his fate was bent on eluding him, for Bedoch had yet to find a sign of her. Initially, he’d been disappointed, even despairing, seemingly lost in this neverending world, but now, he was numb to it. If he failed, he was no longer disappointed. He became a machine - swallow the pain, push it under and bury it, and forge ahead with a face of steel.
xxxxxHe’d died in so many ways that if he were any more of a cynic, he’d consider himself a connoisseur of death. He’d been stabbed, shot, beaten, bludgeoned - and yet his journey continued, because time stopped for no one. Time didn’t stop to wait for you when you were bleeding and broken on the ground, much like a train didn’t stop to wait for the final straggling passenger rushing to catch it. If you missed the train of time, you would be left behind.
xxxxxIn the earlier days, this frustrating, hopeless notion had turned him bitter and spiteful. Bedoch had been young then, unwise and quick to anger, doing without thinking and thinking without reflecting. Hot-blooded, he remembered, was what they liked to call him. But as he died and relived the same timeline, his maturity only increased each time. It must’ve been somewhere in his sixtieth-something life when Bedoch realised they no longer called him a reckless, hotheaded fool. No- instead they respected him for the experience and steadfastness he demonstrated, and came to him with plans for war.
xxxxxBedoch turned them all away. He’d raise his weapon to fight for his own cause, but he’d never do it to inspire a hundred others to do the same. Violence was not his style anymore - in fact, it now left an uncivilised aftertaste in his mouth. Sometimes he sat and pondered how such acts of aggression came so easily to him in his youth.
xxxxxPerhaps, rather sardonically, he might have something to thank the Valkyrie leader for when he finally found her.
xxxxxAs was natural for anyone walking a monotonous, repetitive path, Bedoch was going through a phase of extreme jadedness. When life kept you down, you started to question the meaning of your efforts, and Bedoch was doing just that. Though he still trained on a daily basis and searched for that very battlefield, he was growing tired. He was wondering, secretly, if he could settle down and give up pursuit of that fateful encounter he’d been chasing for so long. He was tired of dying, tired of failing, tired of missing the train of time. He wanted to stop his eager peering for a stop he needed to get to and instead close his eyes and surrender to the waves of slumber. Sometimes the days seemed slow and unbearable, and sometimes they passed in a flurry of training and mindless research that left Bedoch winded and exhausted.
xxxxxWhat was he doing wrong? Did he have the wrong pass? Did he not have enough money for the train fare? Bedoch had been a passenger on the train of time for so long, and yet, he had yet to figure a single bit of it out. It seemed like a looming behemoth, an ancient structure of society that an ordinary dragon with a curse would never understand. Or perhaps that was his curse: to go through the same perpetual motions without ever understanding his plight.
xxxxxWithout understanding, Bedoch sharpened his sword. Without understanding, Bedoch brandished his blade. Without understanding, Bedoch chased and chased and chased, straining towards the light at the end of the tunnel that he’d been so sure would one day come to him.
xxxxxHe found the battlefield again. He fought in the war again. He died in the war again. But there was no sign of the Valkyrie leader that had cursed him each time, and with each death, Bedoch grew more and more resigned. He didn’t fight the cruelty of fate anymore, but instead chose to lie down and accept it. There was no point fighting, when all it would do was run him down for nothing. He’d lost that young indignance so characteristic of new warriors a long while ago.
xxxxxAnd being a passenger on the train of time meant that he felt isolated. Watching other dragons do the exact same thing many times over had been fascinating at first, but now, it was a practised pantomime performance that failed to garner his interest. Bedoch had lived and died so many times that he knew what each person would say and when they would say it - he knew that one of the clan’s hatchlings would wander off a cliff and fall to their death, but he kept his mouth shut. He’d tried to tell others before, but they’d given him such a strange look that it made Bedoch feel as though he was having an out-of-body experience, like their judgement had physically ejected his soul from his body.
xxxxxHe was tired of it. He wanted peace. He wanted to get off the train of time only to never ever board it again. He didn’t want anything else but answers. He didn’t want to see the streaks of colour as time flew by, didn’t want to hear the shrieking of the train against the tracks, didn’t want to feel the pull of the train’s speed against his body when it began moving again.
xxxxxBut, as rarely as it happens, the most inspiring things happen to the most jaded people. Bedoch was training one day when he observed something different: a hatchling playing with a garden snail. It was picking up the snail after it had crawled a certain distance and replacing it where it had started. The snail didn’t seem to mind, innocently spreading its feelers in search of something to guide its travel. Bedoch watched this scene for a good thirty minutes, puzzling over how the snail remained unperturbed. Even when all its progress had been snatched away within a split second, it persisted in finding its way forward.
xxxxxHe wondered dimly if the snail even knew it was being picked up and taken back to the start. It was obvious that it was almost nonchalant to the fact, and if it knew, it did a wonderful job of not demonstrating so.
xxxxxA sudden wave of pain hit Bedoch as he gazed at this tiny, frail creature, struggling so innocuously across the ground by itself, searching for a destination that would never come. When the hatchling next lifted a claw to pluck it up and put it back at the starting point, Bedoch reached down, unable to control himself, and grabbed the hatchling’s wrist.
xxxxx— Let it be — he murmured, watching the small snail wander around aimlessly with frenzied feelers.
xxxxxHe ignored the protests of the hatchling, lost in his own mind, and only let go once the snail had disappeared into a nearby crevice between rocks. Then he was turning away, not hearing any of the hatchling’s indignant complaints that he’d just ruined their playtime, and strode away to the den he’d built for himself on the edge of a cliff.
xxxxxBedoch stood at the edge of the cliff and inspected his surroundings. Everything seemed much sharper, much clearer now. It felt like he’d woken from a deep slumber. The breeze in the air played with his wings, filling him with the desire to take flight, and it was then that Bedoch understood why the snail had touched him so much.
xxxxxMaybe in the eternality of his journey lay not only tragedy, but infinite beauty. If he had the chance to be a passenger on the train of time, what was he doing wasting it away? He could do so many things; right so many wrongs. It was the fact that he didn’t know when the end of his journey would come that was so beautiful.
xxxxxThe breeze whistled jovially around him as though it was expressing agreement. Bedoch could suddenly see everything with a meaningful clarity he’d lacked before. And as he surveyed the massive canyon that laid before him, it no longer seemed like a desolate wasteland, but a shimmering sea of possibilities that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Written by Kawacy
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>> He's a cursed time traveler. He's a soldier that died in the battlefield and refused to be taken to vhalalha by the valkiryes. So the valkirie leader threw a curse on him >> he keeps living the same life from his earlier adulthood until he dies. >> he often looks for the same batlefield in hope to find this valkirie by dying, but he's has not been luck for some time >> sometimes he returns but not in his time/period, sometimes in the future, sometimes in the past before he was born. >> he's an expert on war, and learned a lot from living the same life, but he never plays the role of leader in battles. |
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