Malika

The stench of the Wyrmwound never was for me. I was born under my native Clan's prince and princess. They were Spiteful, Cold, and Violent dragons that tossed me to be raised on the land of the Plaguebringer. I wandered the Abiding Boneyard alone. I was hungry, sad, and rejected. The malodorous filth around me a constant reminder of my Clan's disappointment in me. I had bore them two hatchlings but I was still cast out to the sun baked Boneyard to 'become one' with the Plaguebringer.

The longer I wandered through the endless, burning field of decomposing dragons the worse I began to feel. Scabs were developing over my body and spreading with every day. I was sick and desperate for someone to help me. I did not want to become another one of the Plaguebringer's experiments.

I stumbled through the Wandering Contagion, my breath was short and often interrupted by long coughing spasms resulting in bright pus erupting from my maw. The scabs covered most of my body now. I realized that I was sent out here for my death. I would become another casualty of the rotten queen of the Plague Flight. I reached the southern edge of the Contagion and overlooked the sheer drop into the water. I was so weak due to starvation and the sickness that ravaged my body. I hacked out deeply, more pus gushing from my throat to coat my paws. As I took another mighty heave and slipped off the edge and into the water.

It all went dark. I was finally at peace... I begun to pass knowing that at least my body would not become one of the many on the Plaguebringer's land. I would sink to the depths. I would not further her cause, even in death.

'Oh my god... she's... she's alive?'

I heard a voice. I also heard a melody of flutelike music. The sound was so soothing, almost jovial. As my eyes refocused I realized I was on the Reedcliff Ascent... in the Wind Flight's territory?! Sahkulaan, an Imperial Healer of the Bleakfalls Clan loomed over me

'You will be okay, we will heal you of your gembond, we will feed you and care for you for as long as you need us to. When you are better, if you wish, you may return to your Clan.'

'No!' I shouted before sputtering up some bloodied pus. 'No, never.. please.' Sahkulaan cringed a bit, wiping the sick from my maw 'Alright, Alright... then please, stay with us. As far as we are concerned, you are a full member of our Clan.' These words were what I had nearly died to hear. I closed my eyes and slept the most peaceful sleep I ever had. I finally found a home.

Time passed, and I was healed of my cough and internal sickness and my gembond is in remission. Due to the disease, I was left unable to fly. The heavy gemstone chunks took their toll on my fragile wing membranes and bone structure. Luckily, Dynasty, a dragon who had toiled in the Shifting Expanse for quite some time was able to create a custom wing brace for me. The brace has helped me regain some strength and fortification in my wings and with some work I do think that one day I will fly again.

I consider myself a Wind dragon now, and fight to defend the Clan who showed me that I was worth more than sickness and death.

Eventually another Plague Dragon joined the Clan, a regal Imperial by the name of Belethor. He knew of the Clan that I was born from and reported that both my parents threw themselves into the Wyrmwound to better serve their goddess. My former breeding partner followed them into the wound. They finally became one with the fetid sickness they adored so much. Of their offspring, few remain. My eldest sibling, Proudmoore, resides in a Lightning Clan. She is my only full sibling and it brings me joy to know she is safe with a Clan that appreciates her. My only offspring were sent to the Tidelord and to the Plaguebringer. This saddens me, but I am glad to know that neither are suffering.