Mypilot » Lair » Rajiya

Rajiya

(#78845088)

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

Nikios

Lap Pupowl

Energy: 14/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.32 m

Wingspan

7.39 m

Weight

716.49 kg

Genetics

Flaxen
Boulder

Amber
Flair

Denim
Ghost

Hatchday

Jun 14, 2022
(1 year)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Water
Rare

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

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R A J I Y A
{ RA-jee-yah }
Alchemist

█ █ █ █ █ █

I am not any one thing, nor am I what they claim me as,
for I contain contradictions and am many-faced.

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ l o r e ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮

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The Cathedral of Sol Noct was not a place for children. From a young age, Rajiya was assured she wasn’t one. They called her mature for her age, much more quiet than her peers who dashed about beyond the stone walls of the temple. A hatchling when she was recruited into their patron saint’s clutch, Rajiya scarcely remembers a time before Sol Noct. She could not picture a world bereft of the temple’s walls dripping with liquid gold, kept constantly molten by magic, or the channels of too-blue water that ran on either side of every hall, little golden flower petals blooming with life drifting lazily by. Rajiya has always known a life painted amber and azure.

The youngest of the clutch, Rajiya had no weighted responsibilities. Her tasks were minor, but many, and she was a frequent smear of blue-gold scales dashing about the halls of the temple as she hurried from point to point. The heads of their sect might have her collect the molten gold for rituals, or tend to the garden kept walled in from the riff-raff beyond the hallowed grounds.

Her favourite was tending to the library, a sweeping expanse of shelves that were kept in a room where the common magic of the temple did not intrude. Here, there was only the ancient smell of paper and leather, and the sun dappling in through stained glass windows that lined the ceiling above.

The library was special to Rajiya for many reasons, both for the boundless literature that spoke of a world she had never really known, and for that grandiose murals that covered every wall and most of the ceiling. Whatever artist had painted such designs was surely part of the cathedral no longer, for Rajiya had never seen an artist at work, but it was no surprise that such stunning work would outlast its creator.

The wall paintings depicted the Eleven gods, each in their swirls of unique magic. Despite their outlandish differences, they were all made the same by the artists hand and style, painted in soft colours that made the viewer craved a closer look.

What interested Rajiya too was the lack of their saint on any of the walls, not even symbolic depictions of them, for everything only showed the primordial deities of their lives and nothing else. No symbolic gilded paintings, no azure skies. It was if the saint had simply not existed in the time of the artists servitude.

Such things were blasphemy to speak of. Rajiya knew better than to ask, although her curiosity sometimes felt cloying. What she would give to understand the breadth of their temples history, to know where Sol Noct grew its roots. Their lore spoke of a perfect divide between day and night, a step beyond meager dawn and dusk where instead the world could share both light and darkness at once. The Cathedral had stepped in to realize this, a facsimile of alchemy wherein the gold was already theirs, and now they wanted the next best thing.

When the sky was cut in half by their prophesized magic—when the sun ruled one half and the moon the other—the saint, that everlasting serpent, would be born into their physical world from the magic of the cleaving.

Rajiya was told that divide lie in her, too, for she bore their saints colours. Perhaps this was what drew Sol Noct to claim her, to bundle her up in their arms and call her theirs. With their petting words and promises, Rajiya could only ever be their progeny. She had never been given a chance to be anything else.

Now of course she is older, and this is no longer the case. She is not Sol Noct’s beloved spawn, nor is she their gift from the heavens. Rajiya is herself only, a dragon of contradictions. Now she lives in a realm with no painted amber, no azure. Her world is white and black and the snow that numbs all else.

There are times when she thinks back on the Cathedral and all they had done, their horrific alchemy that took such pains to claim as righteous. Perhaps she is grateful that the saint cannot be reborn under their massacring hands, for they never had the right touch. No, they could not claim a saint who they only just claimed as theirs, like a slavering dog when confronted with another’s treat. This, she thinks, is what made them so easy to split apart.

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Exalting Rajiya to the service of the Icewarden 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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