Amatziel

My first dragon ever to level to 25 completely on my own!

Exaltation. A process where Dragons meant for a higher calling release themselves from the realm in which they are so familiar to serve under a deity for whom their abilities would prove useful. Ashthorne had been no different, engaging in their worship of the Flamecaller just as many other residents of the fire flightlands. For years, the clan had done it the same way, Stripping the name of the Forgecalled destined to the Flamecaller in a ritual of purification and to prepare their bodies for the rigorous training that would render them worthy to be a gift to their beloved Mather from a strong clan.

For years upon, Eria had been the dragon tasked with the holy duty of training these Dragons, and she served well, but as her years advanced, It was clear that she would need to take on an apprentice. It didn't take long for the clan to find their next trainer, Amatziel, And the Young obelisk took easily to the work and harsh training of Eria. But when it came time for the clan to name Amatziel as the new Forgecalled trainer, solidifying her position by offering her first new Forgecalled to be exalted. Amatziel began to recite the words to officiate the ceremony, The Clan's shaman, Moon, Interrupted, Compelled by the Flamecaller herself to rise upon the stage and speak on behalf of their deity. In the booming, authoritative voice of the fire goddess, Moon spoke.

"This clan has served me well, but those you send to me lack self. You purify the spirit away from them, the fire I give to my children in hopes they will spread as the flames they represent. Too long I have been saddened by the loss of what makes these dragons truly strong, but hereforth, dragons shall be bestowed names before they come under my service, and the souls of these dragons shall no longer smolder, but they shall blaze."

The first

The embers smoldering in Amatziel's fur burst to life, surrounding her forearms in a bright flame as her eyes begin to glow with the Flamecaller's power. As the Obelisk approached, the two Forgecalled stood tall, unsure of the immediate future but ready to dedicate themselves to the service of the fire deity. Stopping in front of the larger of the two abberations, she reached out to touch his chest, the ash-edged claw around her finger glowing white hot. The Forgecalled stood without flinching as Amatziel's claw touched his chest, searing the Flamecaller's insignia into his flesh. "I, Amatziel, name you Wyrmheart. You, the first to be named by the power of the gods, are a strong warrior, and a Cunning strategist. Though you are not native to this place, the Mather welcomes you."
Wyrmheart's heads bowed, accepting the name bestowed upon him,"Thank you Mather, Thank you Amatziel." he muttered softly. With a final acknowledging nod, Amatziel turned to the dragon beside the newly named Wyrmheart, his younger sibling. Amatziel reached out to touch the dragon, but the Abberation flinched away, fear glimmering in the eyes of both heads.
"You've trained for this, be strong." She whispered, a soft smile crossing the Obelisk's snout. "You are ready."
The abberation's heads turned, sharing a glance for a brief moment before they came forward, standing tall as they allowed Amatziel to brand them as well. "I, Amatziel, Name you Featherfall. You, the Second to be named by the power of the flamecaller, are as strong a warrior as your brother, and your intense tenacity will serve you well. The Mather welcomes you." Featherfall nodded, Holding back a grimace of pain as the brand's sizzling faded.
The glow faded from Amatziel's eyes as the clan began to celebrate their newest Forgecalled, the Abberations being celebrated as yet another gift to their beloved Goddess. The Flamecaller had blessed the humble clan of Ashthorne once again.

*Please Note: Not all dragons will be officially named as what they are listed as here. Pre-named dragons are renamed in lore, but will keep their names in reality because i'm not buying name scrolls for fodder lol

Lesser Forgecalled

Greater Forgecalled

Truest Mirrors: The brothers

Born to Dusk and Zeira, The brothers Mas and Menos were inseperable from the very beginning. As if they were the dame dragon, the pair were constantly found to be mimicking eachother to a T, speaking, eating, and even flying the same way. It had always struck the clan as strange, their behavior exceeding even the pack tendencies of mirrors. In an attempt to separate them, Nightkaia had chosen to put the brother with separate trainers, hoping that their twinning habits would be broken and the pair would learn to live more individually, but the attempt ended in disaster when on their first excursions with their trainers, the brothers vitality seemed to be sapped from the dragons the further they got from one another, their bodies withering away before their trainer's eyes, and even almost causing the death of Menos. This anomaly seemed to unnerve the Dragons of Ashthorne, many of the clan regarding them as cursed. Though they were still welcomed as clan blood, as time went on, the brothers started to feel the less then friendly sentiments towards them, and thus they tried to find ways to cure their apparent malady, but no corner of sornieth seemed to hold the answer to why they were truly inseperable. Eventually Mas and Menos confronted Moon, hoping that the god-speaker would be able to ask the Flamecaller why they had been crated this way. Though they begged and pleaded, Moon was unable to give them the answers they sought, and so in their final desperation, they came to Amatziel. If they were to get answers, they hoped, they would have to go to the Flamecaller themselves. Hoping to be exalted, They laid themselves at Amatziels feet, hoping for the Dragoness to lend her power so they could surrender themselves to the Flamcaller's heavenly domain. Pitying the young dragons and their plight, Amatziel allowed for them to train as Forgecalled despite having been given no sign that the Flamecaller wished for them to walk with her. When it came time for the ceremony, Amatziel and the rest of the clan gathered in their sacred grounds, the ceremonial fires lit on charcoal buried in the solidified lifeblood of the Ashfall waste. With a heavy sigh, The Bestower of grace stepped forward, and spoke the sacred word of the bestowment ritual, but as she finished and the clan fell silent, The flames that graced her scales to imbue into those who would move on to the next plane did not appear, nor did the Flamecaller's bonfire react as it normally did, growing and burning white hot to accept it's offering.

"It was not to be, I'm sorry. I hoped she would have accepted you both, but it appears your answers will not come from the great Mather."

The brothers, heartbroken, turned from the flames, preparing to return to their clan and resign to live with their fate when the bonfire began to sputter. As the clan's attention turned to it, Amatziel's scales began to smolder. Looking up, her eyes turning to a white fire to reflect the blaze behind her, she stepped forward, her claws reaching for Mas. As she touched him, he stood tall as he was bestowed the name Addertail. Menos held his head high beside him, waiting for Amatziel to touch him, but the Obelisk shook her head as the flames dissipated from her talons.

"She wishes only for Addertail." She said softly.

"What?" the brothers asked in unison, watching her with puzzled eyes.

"Only one of you can go through, and She has not called for Menos. The ways of out Goddess are strange, but we are not ones to question her. Addertail, you must heed her."

With a nod to Amatziel, The brothers began to walk towards the bonfire, unable to separate themselves even for the moment to allow Addertail to advance alone. as Amatziel had said, Addertail was allowed through, disappearing into the flames of the Mather. But as Menos walked through the flames, the fire around him turned almost black, and as the clan watched in horror, Menos began to burn, his scales melting away from his skin as the flames ate away at his body. Amatziel launched herself towards the mirror, her claws barely scaping the flames before she had to rear back, the black flames latching on to her claws and searing the obelisk's claws, the tips of them beginnign to melt as she desperately tried to extinguish the hellish fire. Menos's screams rang ouit for only a couple heartbeats as the black tongues licked away his flesh, charring the mirror's body to nothing but ash and bone as the terrified clan looked on at the Flamecaller's horrible power. She was not to be disobeyed.

It would not take long after this ceremony for Amatziel to return to the bonfire, the horrible memory of meno's death still fresh in the minds of all of the clan. Though the remains of the mirror had been cleared away by now, Amatziel could still see where his remnants had lain as if it had happened no more than a second ago. Silently she mourned for the brother, wishing his woes healed in his death, but as she held him in her mind, her claws began to smolder, the flames of the ritual not completely wreathing her talons, but enough to send her a message. As the flames faded quickly as they had come, Amatziel raised her head to the sky above her.

"Cutclaw."

Despite his disobedience, The Mather had accepted him.