When he was born, he shone.

With a bright yellow pelt, he was born. And they all stared at him in wonder; his clan, his parents, his siblings. He was born into a Clan of dark dragons, for Nocturnes are a Shadow breed, and their kind lives in the shadows. His pelt, they feared, would be a beacon for destruction.

Alone he was left, when he was but a newborn, crying pitifully out in the night.

And yet, he was found. A kind, yet sickly old Skydancer found him, took him in and raised him. And she named him: Garreth.

Now he was not alone. He shone like the sun.

With the Skydancer, his wings began to change. They reflected the pattern of the sun and the stars, of the moons and the planets and every day the pattern changed. With bright eyes, he jumped into the world, the universe on his wings.

But, like all things, death comes.

Death came for the Skydancer, and just like that, he was alone again. His shine dulled, and his wings began to pale, the stars and moons that once shone so brightly fading into his skin.

But still, like the sun, he shines.