Amate
(#76682644)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Blue-Footed Eggull
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Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Skydancer
This dragon cannot breed until Nov 25, 2024 (11 days).
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.84 m
Wingspan
3.71 m
Weight
676.44 kg
Genetics
White
Petals
Petals
White
Butterfly
Butterfly
Berry
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
Owner:IraBell Familiar:Death Seeker Mate:Oni
Witch Doctor
"She who walks like a ghost among the shadows, trailing crimson tides. A dragon from a lineage of Blood Mages, Amaterasu is extremely skilled at her craft, making her both a deadly and admirable dragon."
Amate had to learn to be cruel. Such behavior had always repulsed her, but as a hatchling, she had no other choice. Her parents would dispose of her otherwise.
They had been part of a large clan once. She had been born here, and still had memories of roughhousing with other hatchlings, being cuddled and cared for by other dragons. But her parents had later disagreed with the clan’s ways of living. They had called the clan leaders “soft” and “weak”—
For showing love and tenderness to the young. For caring for the old and infirm. And, most unforgivable of all, for accepting other dragons, even those not born of Plague.
Amate’s parents had been trained as Blood Mages, and in that clan, they had used their sorcery to heal many diseases. But after they left, taking their children with them, they turned their magic towards dark and twisted deeds, and they raised their children to do the same.
The family moved to a remote part of the wasteland, and Amate, still young and untrained, knew better than to try running away. Out there, there were savage beasts and virulent diseases, but here, her parents treated her civilly—provided she appeared to adhere to their teachings.
She repeated what they told her: how the Plague Flight was supreme, and all others were an infection that had to be purged from the land. She studied diligently as they taught her blood magic—partly to heal, but mostly to harm. She trained as a warrior, learning to injure and kill, and she assisted them as they ambushed travelers, dragging these hapless “intruders” to the Wyrmwound and “sacrificing” them to their goddess.
Amate learned to keep her face impassive. She learned to keep her hands from shaking. She learned to close her ears to other dragons’ cries for mercy.
But she could not learn to completely harden her heart. And in time, she realized she had to escape...or else it would shatter.
Darkness fell. And under the cover of night, Amate left her parents’ clan for good. The land beyond was still dangerous, but she was no longer the frail child she’d been. Though she loathed the skills her parents had taught her, they were useful, and she fought past vicious creatures, hazardous terrain and spells.
Her destination: the Tangled Wood.
Amate hoped that the Shadowlings’ talent for trickery would aid her. Her parents would surely be looking for her; she needed to disappear. Maybe a glamour of some sort, a disguise to hide her identity...
But the Shadow clans she approached were not as welcoming as she’d hoped. Stories about the Blood Assassins had spread, and they were wary of this red-eyed Skydancer, especially one whose magic was eerily similar to the assassins they’d heard of. They were not violent, but they were curt and standoffish—and none of them offered her a home.
“A home...That’s what I need,” Amate thought. Not some cultish, rapacious clan, but somewhere kinder—compassionate. She still held onto the memories of her birth clan, where all dragons with goodwill had been welcomed.
She needed a place that would look past her intimidating appearance—and allow her to use her skills for nobler things. But it appeared she wouldn’t find it among the Shadow cities and towns. So instead, she retreated into the wilderness. There, at least, she could disappear among the trees.
The forest was a lonely place for Amate. She’d been surrounded by other dragons her whole life, and the sudden isolation took some getting used to.
Still, she grew to like it there. This part of the Tangled Wood was mostly peaceful, inhabited only by birds and beasts. Amate’s parents had scorned all other creatures, seeing them solely as prey. But there’d been familiars in her birth clan, and she rediscovered the joy she’d felt at being able to bond with them, learning to aid them instead of slaying them.
So, one day, when she heard the cry of a bird in pain, she went to investigate. She followed the bird’s distress back to its source—and she found that she wasn’t the only dragon dwelling in these woods.
Another Skydancer was encamped here. Underneath the skull-mask he wore, red eyes glinted—though he didn’t seem hostile or surprised to see her.
“I’d sensed another dragon in these woods for some time, though I didn’t think it would be another Skydancer. You hide your presence well?” His last sentence had a questioning lilt to it.
Before Amate could respond, she saw the two young birds on a tree stump before him. “What are you doing with them?” she hissed, her feathers bristling in suspicion.
The other Skydancer’s wings drooped. “The storm that swept through some days back hurled them from their trees. I’ve nursed them, but they’ve caught an infection of some sort—one that I cannot heal.” He glanced at a nearby shelf, roughly hewn into a dead tree. It cradled an assortment of clay bottles. “None of my potions have been effective.”
Amate drew closer, her antennae fixed on the birds. They were seekers: The blue-eyed one stayed near its rescuer’s paws, blinking curiously up at her. The green-eyed one remained wary, just out of reach.
She could sense their suspicion—but no panic or anger. They seemed quite comfortable with the other Skydancer, and she guessed he was telling the truth.
She could also feel, the infection he’d spoken of, burning in the seekers’ veins. Perhaps a stray enchantment or a passing spirit had cast this affliction upon them. The potions couldn’t heal it, but she sensed that her magic could.
As the other dragon watched, she called up her blood magic. Scarlet light flowed from her clawtips and beneath the seekers’ feathers. Their eyes and mouths briefly burned with the same light—and then it flowed back onto Amate’s palm, pulsing with a lurid greenish glow.
“Begone,” she whispered—and with a final pulse, the infection dissipated. The seekers, evidently now recovered, began poking around for food. The storm seeker hopped onto the other Skydancer’s shoulder, cooing in his ear.
He chuckled, but paused as Amate turned to leave. “Where are you headed, stranger?”
“Is it any business of yours?”
“Your magic intrigues me. I’ve studied the healing arts, and for someone to dispel infections so easily...”
He was impressed, and Amate felt her suspicion fading, replaced by the warm glow of pride. She glided back beneath the cover of the trees, but not before throwing a quick smile back over one shoulder.
It had been the first positive encounter she’d had in some time, and perhaps that was why she came back. Once, twice...more...until she was a regular visitor at the camp. She learned that the other Skydancer’s name was Oni, and as he’d mentioned during their first meeting, potions were his specialty. Beyond that, she didn’t pry: He was considerate enough not to ask about her past, and so she didn’t question him about his.
Despite this—or perhaps because of it—they soon became firm friends. Amate taught Oni some of her healing techniques, and in gratitude, he tailored new clothes for her: white coats to replace her stained, tattered raiments; vines for camouflage; and a skull-mask, as sturdy as his own. “For you,” he said, with just a trace of shyness, “since you mentioned at one point that you needed a disguise.”
“Yes. That was when I was looking for another clan...”
Amate trailed off as she considered it. She had been dwelling in the woods for some months now, and while she did like it here, she had never been truly comfortable. If she hadn’t encountered Oni and his seekers, she probably would have left long ago.
“Perhaps now is the time,” she thought. Oni, sensing her thoughts, gently prodded her, “I hope my gift will be useful.”
“It will,” she promised. She wasn’t sure how to broach her next idea—and inside, a part of her laughed. “How far I’ve come! In the Plaguelands, I feared nothing. But now, about to ask this other dragon, I feel so nervous...”
Before she could speak, Oni said, “I have a suggestion, if I may.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“There is a clan a few days’ travel from here: Twilight Shadows. Have you heard of them?”
Amate hadn’t, but she thought the name sounded comforting. She’d always been at ease in the darkness—especially after the scorching radiance of the Scarred Wasteland, where almost all her actions had been visible to her parents’ suspicious eyes...
“They are a young, small clan, but they seem like a good place to stay. Their founders are also Plague-born, and I wonder what stories they have to tell.”
“It sounds promising. Perhaps we could find out...together?”
Oni’s eyes lit up. “An excellent idea. Let me put together my supplies, and then we’ll be on our way.”
As Oni had said, it took them some days to reach their goal. During that time, they lived off the land; Amate soon noticed that the death seeker, Raven, preferred to remain close to her. The storm seeker, Crow, stuck close to Oni instead.
As for Amate and Oni themselves, they found that being in each other’s constant company suited them just fine. They worked well together and had much to share about their wanderings and the things they’d learned. Amate had never formed lasting friendships, but even she could recognize that this was something special. And the pulses of emotion she felt from Oni showed that he felt the same way.
She was somewhat nervous when they finally arrived at Twilight Shadows. What if they dug too deeply into her past, and decided to turn her away? She felt she could endure further journeys, as long as her beloved Oni was at her side. But if he decided that they should go their separate ways...
As it turned out, Amate didn’t need to worry. Perhaps because of their origins, the clan’s founders didn’t seem particularly curious about why she had left Plague. Perhaps they, too, had faced similar hardships, and instead found the Tangled Wood more to their liking.
So Amate found a home in Twilight Shadows. Together with her dear friend (and eventual mate), Oni, she continued to train, to use her blood magic to heal and nurture. Most adults remained cautious of her, but she found happiness tending the clan’s hatchlings and familiars.
She remained a powerful Blood Mage. And on further reflection, she realized she wanted to remain a Blood Assassin, too. But not to maim or murder, as her parents taught her. The next time she drew blood with her weapons, it would be in defense of her family and her home.
Written By: Disillusionist (254672)
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