Reeve

@/caelafireheart
It's been a very long time since I properly wrote any lore, but I really enjoyed creating this little stream-of-consciousness window for Reeve and I hope you enjoy reading it ^u^



Legacy. What a curious word.

Reeve was never much of one to care for legacy. He crawled out from a patch of gravesoil one day, a pale antlered thing with scraggly feathers that dragged itself away from that cemetery and never looked back. He wouldn't be able to recognise the place even if someone led him directly back to it.
So no, he never had the burden of any legacy placed upon him, even if there was some older necromancer out there who reanimated him for some higher purpose or the other in the first place.

And Reeve is not quite sure if what he does counts as his own legacy. On damp nights the amassed spores that float around him settle into corpses nearby- because no matter how much one tries to avoid it, there are always corpses nearby- dragging them up from peat and stone and sand one jerking step at a time. He would lead them off to a place that feels right- a parade of puppets held together by cured tendons and ramshackled bones- before letting them tear each other apart in wild and expressive dances. When it's over he simply dusts himself clean and walks off, and the corpses are eventually taken by the land.
(He always records how many of each type of creature he has amassed this time, dragon or not, and how much he enjoyed the dance. Maybe that is his legacy?)

He had made the mistake of ending his parades around where other dragons lived before and slunk away with bones that needed mending. But he persisted anyway because feelings override logic sometimes and there's nothing wrong with that, and now this one group of dragons that live under a big glowing tree claim him as their own.
Well, they do enjoy his shows.

If legacy is what remains of the opinions of you long after the magic that reanimates your bones run out, maybe it creeps upon you no matter how little you care for it.