Creative Corner

[center][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0]@3idolon @thecell @kmrikkari @horseleech @sixcrows @mnkn10 @essayofthoughts @rosielin @reotheleo @wolfandcrow @stduke @shadowfire1223 @toxicsugar @vengeful @wolftrickster @scorpiontail @meilkor @persist @caathedral @yuubi @shadowpiper @spiderfrog15 @spore @twilitraven @arborpunk @probablyskeletor @roaringspector @foxghosts @tarantulove @teahorse @princessfirefly @cosmicfalcon @delotha @artemisaeternity @cartographic @wyldangel @wolfandcrow @featherfalls @noxextractum @frankenfood @kalicokat @godofmesses @validemotions @cinamonpizza @kwozmotis @dathomir @shadari @mnkn10 @sylvanlady @mako @firebirdsuite @clockworkeclipse @antisense @psittacidae @serpentineoracle @londor @bxy26 @inkfrog @fatbingo @levantera @elysifish @amezrou @finalflight @mothermalice @flyteofheart @sonjmir @tendervulture @adaejha @berceuse @ichorapotheosis @taejin @geist @rampant @serpentscribe @yangxin[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/center] [center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/hp56gdizp19uqry/plaguetop.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7][color=DarkRed][font=Californian FB][b]SPOTLIGHT[/b][/font][/color][/size][/center] [center][color=DarkRed]_______________________[/color][/center] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=498491][size=6][color=maroon]Bxy26's[/url][size=6][color=maroon] Alden[/color][/size][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/68569871][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/685699/68569871_350.png[/img][/url][/center] [left][color=maroon] No one knows whom Alden first served. He doesn't remember himself. He's served just about every Necromancer that went through the trials, if only to get them a drink of water afterwards. Whoever sponsored him for a Council seat is long dead. Some of the newer Necromancers question his position, but all of the older ones say "hush!", and they are still. Alden has been a fixture on the Council since long before the First Seed Eruption; even Kishna and ConTam remember him as an elderly Fae. He's currently the only Servus to have risen so high, and just about the only Necromancer ever to have become a Ruling Councillor without ambition or fighting for it. That doesn't mean he doesn't use his power, of course. He merely absorbs, and when he speaks, all listen. His quiet old voice is sometimes silenced on the Council when he advocates for the rights of Necroservi and Wraiths, but he does have a strong following of Necromancers: those he trained prior to their Trials feel great love and gratitude toward their old teacher. Not to mention the hundreds of Servi who owe him their lives and livelihoods. One of his joys as an Elder Instructor is to administer the deadly strains of Plague to the young Necromancers-to-be as their Trials begin. He couldn't be more proud than when his younglings become full-fledged Necromancers, even if that means they sometimes think less of him. As a Formalist, he also takes under his wing Necroservi and Wraiths who are unsure of what to do with themselves after failing the Trials. He trains them in how to best be of service to their Mancer, since in serving their Mancer they are also serving the Plaguebringer. [left][color=maroon]by Bxy26[/color][/left]

@hyddenchyld

I've added them :D

@hyddenchyld No problem at all, I'm glad you're enjoying this! She's been added. And I know the feeling - I have several Plague-based subspecies dragons, but none from the Light Flight, hahaha

[center][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0]@3idolon @thecell @kmrikkari @horseleech @sixcrows @mnkn10 @essayofthoughts @rosielin @reotheleo @wolfandcrow @stduke @shadowfire1223 @toxicsugar @vengeful @wolftrickster @scorpiontail @meilkor @persist @caathedral @yuubi @shadowpiper @spiderfrog15 @spore @twilitraven @arborpunk @probablyskeletor @roaringspector @foxghosts @tarantulove @teahorse @princessfirefly @cosmicfalcon @delotha @artemisaeternity @cartographic @wyldangel @wolfandcrow @featherfalls @noxextractum @frankenfood @kalicokat @godofmesses @validemotions @cinamonpizza @kwozmotis @dathomir @shadari @mnkn10 @sylvanlady @mako @firebirdsuite @clockworkeclipse @antisense @psittacidae @serpentineoracle @londor @bxy26 @inkfrog @fatbingo @levantera @elysifish @amezrou @finalflight @mothermalice @flyteofheart @sonjmir @tendervulture @adaejha @berceuse @ichorapotheosis @taejin @geist @rampant @serpentscribe @yangxin @loucat @thevvitch@damionkaneki[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/center] [center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/hp56gdizp19uqry/plaguetop.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7][color=DarkRed][font=Californian FB][b]SPOTLIGHT[/b][/font][/color][/size][/center] [center][color=DarkRed]_______________________[/color][/center] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=492562][size=6][color=maroon]DamionKaneki's[/url][size=6][color=maroon] Yda[/color][/size][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/58450534][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/584506/58450534_350.png[/img][/url][/center] [center][color=maroon]Born to a weak father and a dead mother. It was up to her to bring her family honor and favor from the plague mother. During her youth she trained for weeks to become a fully fledged Necromancer, with no one but the plague mother to guide her. Her father tried to assist her studies but she refused his help, disgusted by his weakness. If she was going to do this she was going to do it alone.The day of her trial was upon her; in all of her short lonely life she had never seen so many drakes in one place that were all determined, passionate, and brave. Seeing all the young drakes taking the same trial that could make or break them was inspirational.Yda herself passed the trial, but as she looked at the other young drakes who also passed she saw that only half had made it this far. Her skin crawled at the idea of the other’s fate, and she silently prayed to the plague mother for mercy upon their brave souls. After her trial she set out looking for a worthy clan to call home, and spread plague mother’s goodwill. Plaguebringer guided her to a young promising clan located at the base of the seedscar. She found out that the leader of the clan, a sorceress of the name Skyla was single handedly trying to hold back the seed scar with all of her plague magic, but she wasn’t enough. The seed scar had laid dormant for centuries but without constant plague magic to hold it back the nature magic begane to run rampant and the tree started to grow. Yda knew that this had been why the plague mother had brought her here. She quickly rallied the few plague dragons in this clan and had them all channel their magic within, into the tree to stop the seed scar. It took a lot of effort but they brought it back under control, and the clan, as well as the rest of the plague lands, was spared a catastrophe. Yda saw that there was still nature magic within the seed scar that needed to be held at bay, and she knew that it was her destiny to tend to the seed scar so that the harmful magic that once plagued her father would not plague anyone else. It has been many moons since that fateful day, because of her heroics and status she had earn the respect of the clan, and dedicated her life to keeping the seed scar supplied with plague magic, she taught a few plague born dragons how to use their natural talents to help her in her life long quest. This freed the sorceress and leader Skyla to go out looking for more Necromancers to aid in the tending of the seedscar. Skyla then found a young Fae dragon that had just passed his own trial and was a newly awakened Necromancer. The sorceress introduced him to Yda. She was not pleased by the frail looking Fae dragon; she refused his help unless the Plague Mother told her otherwise. Plaguebringer indeed told her otherwise, when the young Necromancer touched the seedscar Plaguebringer turned him into a Tundra as a sine of her decision. Yda couldn’t believe it, the once frail Fae was now a strong looking Tundra. Yda listened to the plague mother and accepted the young Necro not only as a fellow bender of necrosis but as her beloved mate. It wasn’t long before they had their first clutch of eggs, sadly none of them made it past their first few months of life. Yda saw this as a punishment for doubting Plague mother when her mate Ronin first arrived at the clan. Yda however didn’t give up, she dedicated her time to praying to Plaguebringer for forgiveness so that she may raise a successful brood. Not long after that her son Zenos was born along with his two sisters, one didn’t make it, but Zenos and his sister grew up into fine Necros. She was so proud of her brood, and was sad to see her daughter leave, but happy that her son decided to stay at the seescar with her. It wasn’t long before she was once again overwhelmed with pride as her son took on a mate and produced a sacred child a plague primal. Yda found happiness by excepting that the weak can become strong and that all life was worth protecting. She was born to a broken family but built her own family by accepting that she was wrong and opened her heart. She was rewarded with a prosperous and ever growing family that she lovingly looks after.[/center] [left][color=maroon]by DamionKaneki[/color][/left]

[center][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0]@3idolon @thecell @kmrikkari @horseleech @sixcrows @mnkn10 @essayofthoughts @rosielin @reotheleo @wolfandcrow @stduke @shadowfire1223 @toxicsugar @vengeful @wolftrickster @scorpiontail @meilkor @persist @caathedral @yuubi @shadowpiper @spiderfrog15 @spore @twilitraven @arborpunk @probablyskeletor @roaringspector @foxghosts @tarantulove @teahorse @princessfirefly @cosmicfalcon @delotha @artemisaeternity @cartographic @wyldangel @wolfandcrow @featherfalls @noxextractum @frankenfood @kalicokat @godofmesses @validemotions @cinamonpizza @kwozmotis @dathomir @shadari @mnkn10 @sylvanlady @mako @firebirdsuite @clockworkeclipse @antisense @psittacidae @serpentineoracle @londor @bxy26 @inkfrog @fatbingo @levantera @elysifish @amezrou @finalflight @mothermalice @flyteofheart @sonjmir @tendervulture @adaejha @berceuse @ichorapotheosis @taejin @geist @rampant @serpentscribe @yangxin @loucat @thevvitch[/size][/size][/size][/size][/center] [center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/hp56gdizp19uqry/plaguetop.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7][color=DarkRed][font=Californian FB][b]SPOTLIGHT[/b][/font][/color][/size][/center] [center][color=DarkRed]_______________________[/color][/center] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=191160][size=6][color=maroon]EssayOfThoughts'[/url][size=6][color=maroon] Alaric[/color][/size][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64732667][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/647327/64732667_350.png[/img][/url][/center] [left][color=maroon] Olecrana finds [i]him[/i]. That should probably have prompted him to consider most of his expectations. She doesn't come to him a ghoul either, but already neutralised. She is tall and she is proud, even half-starved and with wings tattered from neglect, but she does not snap at him when he approaches, as some half-feral necromancer-less Neutralised have been known to do. Instead she watches and she explains and when he agrees to nurse her back to health she breaths out a long sigh and settles beside him. He has never met a Neutralised Ghoul so forward, so certain of what she asked, and so polite all at once. There are dragons, he knows, who'd think that certainty arrogance, especially from one such as her. He cannot help but admit, if only to himself, that he found that confidence arresting. -- When she is well again, they hunt together. Most of his knowledge of nursing - of [i]healing[/i], not just curing disease but the very antithesis of what creatures of Plague are thought to be capable of - comes from those he encounters on his hunts. Not all dragons are Necromancers, fewer still Imperials of his size, or age, or strength. There are all too many, in the wake of a still-virulent Ghoul's path, in need of healing. Olecrana has no plague of her own, not anymore, but she is strong and she is certain. For all she flinches at the casting of some spells, she remains unbowed in the face of Ghouls - even those huge, and terrible, and feral beyond belief. If Alaric had to judge, he thinks at times that he is more frightening to her, when his hands alight with magic, than the Ghouls. "It is not yours to concern yourself with," she says when eventually, after months together, he finally asks. "My fears are my business. I do not intend to let them conquer me." He is of Light. He has always sought the ultimate truths of the world - those truths which led him, in the end, to Plague - and he knows well that fear does more than conquer, if left to run unchecked. "It is not a matter of conquering," he says at last. "I have seen fear break dragons before. I would rather not see you broken by the same." Is that perhaps too obvious to admit? He had not asked Olecrana to join him; she had decided that for herself. But he likes her too much to want to see her hurt or gone from him. Her hand is gentle on his, her smile far warmer than he'd ever expect from the chilly Wind of her birth and the flight's frivolous, twisting humour. "And that," she says softly, "Is why I shall not. Thank you for your concern, Alaric." It is, he thinks later, the first time she has called him by his name, and not a title. -- Their status is gathered slowly. They keep so much to themselves that they only gather notes those few times those they neutralise have no place to return to - those few times they make the careful, guiding trek towards the Council, to try to match a Necromancer to their new neutralised. It is on those trips, Olecrana carefully advising the new-remade dragon, that Alaric sends letters - to the Council, to Necromancers he knows, to Ague the ancient Archivist. All in the hope that someone knows someone who can give their new one home. So it is they receive gifts, small treasures in thanks from those settlements they saved from a Ghoul's path, now their identities are known; small treatises from Necromancers, hoping to be given a companion; small measures of trust and favour and friendship that can mean even more than either. So it is that one evening, their latest charge safely rehomed, Olecrana is picking apart two lockets they had been gifted, laying them out in every piece before putting them back together. "Here," she says, passing him a steel-grey chain and pendant. When he takes it, she loops it's soft-gold counterpart around her neck. For all that has passed between them in her time together, it has been hardly spoken of, let alone marked by anything aside from their actions and affection, and he cannot help but be startled. "I did not think you one for tokens," he admits. Her smile is fond. "My flight's tokens tend to be rags or ribbons - but that did not serve my purpose." When he raises an eyebrow, she only laughs. "I thought I had proven that, for all I am severed from Plague, I do not lack any magic at all," she says with a smile. "I still have what I was born with, if nothing else. I know the value of connection." Carefully, she opens the locket at her breast, taps the silvery spring on it's hinge. Then, she reaches out, to open his. The hinge of his glints gold. He has heard of sympathetic magic. He had not ever thought he might see it performed. "Hold it," she suggests. "[i]Feel[/i] it." He closes his eyes, closes hand around the locket, reaches past the plague to the light he was born to and then on to the twist of magic set in the metal in his hand. He feels a heartbeat, softly pulsing, feels a direction, and when he steps forward his eyes blink open because he has stepped nose-to-nose with Olecrana. "You see?" she says. "Even if we are lost, we may find each other again." -- Their patrol spans a wide space. Some days they are close to the Wyrmwound, coiling their way through the Rotrock and all the way up to the putrescent cauldron's spitting rim. Other days they trek across the Boneyard, seeking a Ghoul wandering rogue, who needs either neutralisation or the final rest before they wreak something more terrible than even their own making. It is one such day that Olecrana is taken from him. He tracks her prints first - of course he does, it had been prints they were following, prints and plague spoor, wild disease lashing out and mutating at a rate that can only be from a Ghoul. She might not have the same force of magic as he, but she was a force of nature, in her strength and speed. Her prints, overlaying those they followed, are clear. When he finds their end, however, there is nothing. No Olecrana. No quarry. He clasps his hand around his locket and he seeks. -- Alaric knows that there are many consequences of Neutralisation. He has heard of dragons made sterile by it, the mutations of their virulency not erased with their connection to Plague. He has heard of dragons forever scarred by it, physically and mentally and both alike. He knows of the status shift - a Virulent Ghoul at least has a power of it's own. Neutralised ones are seen as servants. Some, he knows, are mistreated as Olecrana had been. He knows Olecrana's limitations. He knows the consequences of her neutralisation, for all he had not been the one to inflict it on her - and, knowing what he has come to know of the one who neutralised her, he cannot think of it as anything but [i]inflicted[/i]. No matter what they may want, they will never have hatchlings of their own. Perhaps with others- he might, he knows, and Olecrana only perhaps, but they do not care for that. What they know and what they accept is simple: Olecrana's mutations prohibit her having offspring with Necromancers. Her neutralisation renders her magic incapable of cultivating magic even a little touched by the Lady of Plague's. Those few eggs they have produced - not a one has hatched, Alaric's chosen magic warring with Olecrana's utter lack. It is not something they have terribly grieved. So much of what they have with each other is unspoken; they have accepted the nature of their bodies and their magic, understood it for simple science and practicality but rarely stopped to discuss its consequences for them. They have work to attend to, they have each other. If Olecrana minds, she has never told him. "This," she says, when finally he finds her, stranded in the [i]Ashfall Wastes[/i] of all places. "Is Hecate. She is the one we tracked." In her arms, the dragon's whole face marked by the twisting sigil of primal Arcane, is a hatchling. A ghoul hatchling. He does not think he has seen Olecrana so at ease since- ever, perhaps. She is comfortable with him - he knows that, because it made it so striking the times she flinched from the sign for a spell, or scowled with some genuine anger when he spoke of certain sects. Her fear would not be so obvious, her anger not so freely expressed, if she was not as comfortable with him as she was. He has seen her with newly neutralised ghouls as well, caring and careful, but a mentor or a sibling, never maternal. He had thought, perhaps, it was simply not a role she cared for. Perhaps, he supposes now, she had simply never been called upon to be so. "She is tricky," Olecrana adds as he looks. "Her plague is- hard to tame, they have amulets here to control feral magic, but she is Arcane, with her plague it is- volatile." That explains how Olecrana's usual steady winds could have been blown so far off course, even in a fleshwind storm. He could attempt to neutralise, he supposes. He knows he could - but Olecrana is here, somehow sent miles upon miles from where they had been, across the sea and past the Great Furnace itself. Her winds, always so steady, blown so far off course by a quirk of this Hecate's magic? It had taken him weeks to reach her. From how easy the other dragons are around her, she has been here far more than the few hours. She has been here days. He thinks, if her magic is so volatile, an attempt to neutralise her might just neutralise [i]him[/i] as well. "They do at least mean to find a way to tame her magic," Olecrana adds. "They have a primal smith, Pyrmal. He thinks he may has a solution. And Parabola-" she gestures to one of the dragons hovering at the edge of the room, a waterborn ridgeback ghoul, a multitude of eyes running down her sides "-she is trying to See the right way of enchanting. She wants to see Hecate well-cared for." That is promising, to know there is another to whom Hecate's care can be given - but looking at Olecrana, Hecate cradled easily in her arms, he cannot quite bring himself to separate them. Olecrana might listen to him if he asked - but he has said before and he has meant it every time: he does not wish to be the one to ever cause her hurt. "We won't be able to hunt with her in our care," he says. It is not an apology. "I know," she says. "Tethys' clan have the means to care for her, if it comes to it." Olecrana always has preferred to approach things from odd angles hasn't she? "If it comes to it," he says with a smile. "Will they accept us, do you think, if we mean to care for her ourselves?" [left][color=maroon]by EssayOfThoughs[/color][/left]

[center][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0][size=0]@3idolon @thecell @kmrikkari @horseleech @sixcrows @mnkn10 @essayofthoughts @rosielin @reotheleo @wolfandcrow @stduke @shadowfire1223 @toxicsugar @vengeful @wolftrickster @scorpiontail @meilkor @caathedral @yuubi @shadowpiper @spiderfrog15 @spore @twilitraven @arborpunk @probablyskeletor @roaringspector @foxghosts @tarantulove @teahorse @princessfirefly @cosmicfalcon @delotha @artemisaeternity @cartographic @wyldangel @wolfandcrow @featherfalls @noxextractum @frankenfood @kalicokat @godofmesses @validemotions @cinamonpizza @kwozmotis @dathomir @shadari @mnkn10 @sylvanlady @mako @firebirdsuite @clockworkeclipse @antisense @psittacidae @serpentineoracle @londor @bxy26 @inkfrog @fatbingo @levantera @elysifish @amezrou @finalflight @mothermalice @flyteofheart @sonjmir @tendervulture @adaejha @berceuse @ichorapotheosis @taejin @geist @rampant @serpentscribe @yangxin @loucat @thevvitch @hyddenchyld[/size][/size][/size][/size][/size][/center] [center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/hp56gdizp19uqry/plaguetop.png[/img][/center] [center][size=7][color=DarkRed][font=Californian FB][b]SPOTLIGHT[/b][/font][/color][/size][/center] [center][color=DarkRed]_______________________[/color][/center] [center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=559475][size=6][color=maroon]hyddenchyld's[/url][size=6][color=maroon] Aceso[/color][/size][/center] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/71176490][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/711765/71176490_350.png[/img][/url][/center] [left][color=maroon] Young Aceso inherited her Plague Flight status through her mother, Lucretius, and was blessed with rare eyes. This has allowed her to develop skills in transmutation - which may help her in her upcoming trials. Aceso, like her Necromancer forebearers, started her journey with her Rotrock Rim meditation. She now has three trials to face before she can earn her mantle: 1. Trial of Infection: Be touched by Plaguebringer and develop plague. 2. Trial of Survival: Suppress the plague so it remains dormant inside. 3. Trial of Contagion: Pass the plague to another being through touch and call it back again. If she fails to control the plague inside her, she will become a Ghoul and will slowly die from her condition. If she fails the third trial, she will become a Necroservus, bound to a successful Necromancer, for she will be unable to cure plague. Pulling disease from the body is part of a Necromancer's duty so she must be able to do so. If she does not pass the trials by her own merit, she becomes a Wraith. This is not as poor a fate as a Ghoul, but is still a failure to be avoided if she seeks to claim the title. If she is tempted away by the Shade, she will be a Lich - a traitor to be hunted. Will Aceso succeed in her trials? ----- [color=maroon]Aceso was happy to see that plague did take root in her, as was expected of anyone who dared dream of becoming a Necromancer. This change happened quickly, allowing her to feel that her calling was, in fact, desired by Mother. The first trial had been passed. She was not overcome by pride nor ego so for the second trial she wisely choose not to perch right at the edge of the Wyrmwood; however, she is devoted to her cause so she perched as near as she thought was wise. She could feel the plague grow inside her, but she could also feel herself shifting it, keeping it from becoming too wild. It was a strange feeling to have felt such contamination within oneself, yet she also felt powerful in her ability to keep it under control. She maintained her presence of mind, focusing her energy on making sure she would be victorious. She could feel the plague begin to stagnate, to become dormant within her. Aceso could see the changes happening to her body - the blood colored stripes appearing over her spine and wingtips. They would serve as a reminder of her struggle, her victory. The second trial was over. Last, but certainly not least, she would have to prove mastery over disease by transferring it to another AND calling it back to her. She found a willing host, one who knew the risks of what her failure would mean. But they showed trust and had faith in her abilities. For that, Aceso would always be grateful. That faith, combined with her own belief in herself, allowed the young dragon to prove her mastery. It was finally done. She had completed the third trial. ----- [color=maroon]Clever and level headed as she is, Aceso managed to pass her trials and has become a full-fledged Necromancer. She donned a shroud and a mask, symbols of her service to Plague Mother. She has petitioned to join the Necromantic Council. She feels that she has a calling towards healing and would like to pursue knowledge of that subject. Aceso was pleased to learn that she had been accepted into the Council and vowed to work hard to serve Mother and the interests of Plague. She spent some time observing her new peers before setting off on a journey of her own. ----- [color=maroon]One day, while flying over the border between the Southern Icefield and the Starfall Isles, Aceso noticed a dragon flying erratically. As she watched, he plummeted to the ground. Concerned, the young healer flew over. Right away she could see and sense the disease growing inside him. His body convulsed and his eyes wouldn't focus. He was dying. She'd seen Ghouls before and knew what a horrific fate he had in store - an agonizingly slow death. Unless...would she take the risk to help him? Even experienced Necromancers weren't guaranteed to succeed in helping a Ghoul for they had angered the Plaguebringer by failing to control the infection. Yet, she couldn't bear to see him suffer and not at least try to ease his anguish. Aceso took a deep breath to gather her energy. She focused her power on grabbing at the tendrils of infection that ran through the sick dragon. She worked on unknotting the tangled threads of disease and pulling them into herself. She wrapped these threads around her own dormant plague, willing it to stagnate and be still. For a tense moment she worried that it was too much, that she would fail and kill them both. Was she about to fail Mother and bring shame to herself for thinking she could handle something like this? [i]No,[/i] she reassured herself, [i]Mother wants me to prove myself.[/i] She continued working on her task until all the disease had been neutralized. Her body shook and her breathing was ragged, but looking at the male Nocturne that had been in so much pain and seeing that he had relaxed allowed her to think that she'd made the right choice. She learned that his name is Asher and that he was not, in fact, a failed Necromancer. How strange. Didn't victims of plague contamination usually succumb to their illness and die quickly? Had this ever happened before? She would have to do some research. ----- [color=maroon]While still researching Asher's condition, Aceso continued to journey throughout the Sunbeam Ruins, healing those who would accept her aid. She felt drawn to a certain place, but could not determine why. Every day she landed there and waited. For what, she wasn't quite certain. Asher waited patiently beside her, never questioning this strange ritual. They spent long hours in silence, waiting. She knew her faith would be answered someday. [i]You can't rush fate,[/i] she thought. One day her pull to the area became clear to her. She saw a lone dragon, a Wraith by the looks of her, sitting by the Moonportal. An aura of loneliness and desperation radiated off her, but there was something else, too. Something Aceso could not yet discern. When the dragon looked over at Aceso, she looked ready to flee. "Please wait!" Aceso called out to her, gently. The Wraith hesitated. Aceso explained that she felt a strong desire to help her. She knew the toll the trials took on a dragon's body and mind. She also knew, but did not mention, that the Skydancer was likely filled with regret and a sense of failure. [i]There must be a way for me to help her,[/i] she thought. The Wraith's words were full of bitterness, and she hung her head in shame. Aceso would not let the Skydancer's negativity affect her resolve. With gentle insistence, the Skydancer allowed Aceso to help her. [left][color=maroon]by hyddenchyld[/color][/left] [color=maroon]Drangons mentioned: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/67729362][color=maroon]Asher[/color][/url]