Creative Corner

1571

January 08, 2023 16:55:50

A work in progress lair lore for my clan. I have a lot of big plans coming up in June for the anniversary so I need to make myself write these things down.

dragon?did=1854591&skin=42705&apparel=13825,12902,23742,944,5161,25929,12937,23743,352,13841,13817,13785&xt=dressing.png

Come, child, sit with me a while. There are many tales to tell in this great winding world of ours. I am sure you know of a great many stories. Of brave and valiant dragons fending off the darkness and defending their clans. Of the quiet ones, finding peace in the Glade, serenity within themselves. Of the mischievous Spirals perhaps absconding with things they should not? Oh, is that one just me?

I pose a question to you then, youngling. Have you ever heard tales from the Tidelord's first children? Of those from before the sundering of the Third Age? Before the Nocturnes? Back when the Tidelord still lived among his people? Before all of this... was as you see it today? Well, then, perhaps I have a story for you to hear today. If you would listen.

Water Lair Intro

Fire Lair Intro

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Last edited on Jun 16, 2023 10:07:10 by LittleWatty

First, there was Muirin. Not the oldest of the Tidelord's children, but one of them. She is his eldest Imperial daughter though she did not always appear as she does now.

(img tbd?)

Her First Steps
Among the first of the Tidelord's chosen children, Muirin hatched a simple Guardian colored to the deepest waters. An egg lost in the tides of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. As with all Guardians, it was in her blood to take on a charge the moment she came of age. It was for this reason that she found herself befriending a young maren named Shizue, born just beyond the safety of her beloved Sea. The maren’s clan was small, secluded, and kept to itself outside the Windswept Plateau. Occasionally they might venture beyond the barrier provided by the frigid flows and the islands abutting to the Starfall Islands. They were never supposed to, but the young and adventurous would always cause trouble.

Their days were full of joy as the two would explore the surrounding waters but they had their own lives to live as well. As Shizue grew, she thought of how she might contribute to her tribe. She became a warrior and a hunter. And as Muirin grew, she wondered if she might have a clan of her own. For a brief while they ventured to the steaming vents of the Blacksand Annex. It was close enough to the Plateau ridgeline that they were not afraid of the distance. There she met a charming warrior, a Guardian of the Great Furnace. He was the only dragon that might have tempted her away from her home near the Reedcleft Ascent… but their fancy was short lived. He had a duty and so did she.

The daughters that came from that union stayed with Muirin. They were of the water as she was. The fire that bore itself across their wings would remind her of those quiet times. What she did not know was coming would be an end of her peace and the quiet times that she was so fond of.

Spending so much time outside the Sea of a Thousand Currents, separating herself from the leyline of her forebears, had quieted the gift of foresight that all water dragons inherently held. If she hadn’t maybe she’d have seen the storm coming. They were far outside of the isles of the Frigid Flows when something pierced the leylines. The magic of Sornieth was shifting. Muirin hadn’t heard of anything of this nature happening since the Pillar was sundered. She and Shizue looked at each other before taking to the currents to find their way back home.

The gales started to pick up as they watched the Twisting Crescendo swell in size. Wind dragons could barely be made out fleeing from their trials in the vortex. The seas around them grew angry, waves climbing above even the Flows themselves. Beneath the waves the bottom twisted and churned silt until visibility dwindled to nothing.

“Muirin! We need to get home!”

Seek shelter

Another voice spoke in her ear beneath Shizue’s plea. She looked to the east as she felt the tingle of magic flow through the currents.

“Muirin!”

Hide

Her instinct knew what the voice meant. They would never make it home. Whatever storm was billowing from the Crescendo was going to tear across the inlet. They needed to keep themselves safe first.

Muirin pulled Shizue into her claws and swam for the nearest cavern on the sea floor. A striker hissed and flared at her but she was larger. A loud snap of her teeth and it abandoned its cave to the dragon and her charge. The maren struggled, trying to pull herself from the giant paws that entrapped her.

“Muirin! Stop! We need to go home!!”

For a brief moment she thought about her young hatchlings. They were still with Shizue’s family. But she had to trust the Tidelord that they would be alright. She would seek shelter, wait out this storm, and would find them when it had passed. They were just as connected to the sea as she was. They would be safe.

Through the night the maren struggled against her guardian. And through those long hours she was held fast. Muirin’s wings buffeted their cavern from the raging currents and shrouded them in darkness. Only when the silt began to settle did she dare release Shizue and explore what the storm had wrought.

At first it seemed as though little of importance had changed. The sea floor had shifted, covering corals in sand, exposing old ships that had long since been buried. But the closer they traveled to the edge of the Windswept Plateau, the epicenter of the storm, the more damage they witnessed. Kites from Cloudsong sunken below the sea. Bits of bamboo and structures from the Millmeadows strewn along the sand. Panic settled itself in both their hearts.

Even that could not have prepared Muirin for the sight of the maren tribe’s home. What was once a bustling little community set into the cliff edge of the Reedcleft Ascent was now merely a pile of rubble. Agony tore itself through Shizue’s throat. The salt of her tears washed away to join the water that surrounded them.

They dug through the rubble for hours and found no sign of life. Only broken pieces of what they once had.

“Why, Muirin?! Why didn’t you let me help them?”

“You are my charge. I had to keep you safe.”

“What about them?! What about your daughters?!?”

There was a pang of pain and fear that they had not found a trace of her young droplets.

“I was told to find shelter, so I did.”

“Told? By who?!”

That was not a plain answer that she could give. The voice may have been the Tidelord, or it may have simply been a voice she gave to her instincts. Neither answer sounded good enough to fill the excuse Shizue wanted and her silence was taken as an answer instead. The maren clawed her hand across Muirin’s broad scaly cheek.

"This is your fault! You are dead to me, dragon! Consider yourself charge-less."

Though the scratch would not kill Muirin, it wouldn’t even scar, but the shame of being dismissed by her own charge might. There was no reason left for her to live. She failed the maren she took under her wing. She failed her race’s own purpose. She failed to live up to the one reason she might have been made to exist. She failed.

Delirious in her own depression, Muirin meandered past the broken rubble of the maren settlement. Up into the shallow rivers of the Ascent where the winds had slowed. Rivers born of rain flowed from the Sea down into the inlets she had once called home. With a heaving sigh she collapsed into the gentle lapping of the current, closing her eyes so she might be soothed by the chill against her scales. Her immense form obstructed the stream as if she were a dam created by a flattail, causing the water level over the years to rise higher... higher... until she was resting comfortably beneath the waves. It was the eternal kind of sleep she sunk into. The river that surrounded her carved at the land around her until it was a torrential current that flooded into the Sea.

Wake, my child

To Muirin, it might have only been hours that passed, or days, years, decades, eons. When she woke, the pain of her loss was just as fresh as the moment she sunk into her sleep. But the pain was not the same. There was less pain for her failure as a Guardian, only her loss of a friend. The importance of the charge was shrinking.

Before her sat a guardian, dark of scale and fiery of wing. Though despite her inclination towards the flames of the Great Furnace, her eyes shone blue as the Sea. A grin cracked itself along her dark scales when their eyes met.

“It’s good to see you again, Mother.”

Her droplet, her Ciaran, guarded her through her sleep. Muirin took this as a message. A sign that whatever had happened was meant to be. There was nothing she could have done to stop it even if she had tried to rescue Shizue’s family. This was proof enough that the Tidelord still had faith in her.

It was after the Ciaran began to lead her to the sea that she noticed her own reflection. The dragon she saw was not one she ever would have recognized. Her bulk had become sleek, the dark colors of her scales shimmered like the waves she slept under. The gold flecked rivers became a part of her, the very mineral itself embedded between her scales. No longer was Muirin the disgraced Guardian that had been abandoned by her charge. She was an Imperial, respected and honored across all of Sorneith. She could start new.

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:55:57

First, there was Muirin. Not the oldest of the Tidelord's children, but one of them. She is his eldest Imperial daughter though she did not always appear as she does now.

(img tbd?)

Her First Steps
Among the first of the Tidelord's chosen children, Muirin hatched a simple Guardian colored to the deepest waters. An egg lost in the tides of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. As with all Guardians, it was in her blood to take on a charge the moment she came of age. It was for this reason that she found herself befriending a young maren named Shizue, born just beyond the safety of her beloved Sea. The maren’s clan was small, secluded, and kept to itself outside the Windswept Plateau. Occasionally they might venture beyond the barrier provided by the frigid flows and the islands abutting to the Starfall Islands. They were never supposed to, but the young and adventurous would always cause trouble.

Their days were full of joy as the two would explore the surrounding waters but they had their own lives to live as well. As Shizue grew, she thought of how she might contribute to her tribe. She became a warrior and a hunter. And as Muirin grew, she wondered if she might have a clan of her own. For a brief while they ventured to the steaming vents of the Blacksand Annex. It was close enough to the Plateau ridgeline that they were not afraid of the distance. There she met a charming warrior, a Guardian of the Great Furnace. He was the only dragon that might have tempted her away from her home near the Reedcleft Ascent… but their fancy was short lived. He had a duty and so did she.

The daughters that came from that union stayed with Muirin. They were of the water as she was. The fire that bore itself across their wings would remind her of those quiet times. What she did not know was coming would be an end of her peace and the quiet times that she was so fond of.

Spending so much time outside the Sea of a Thousand Currents, separating herself from the leyline of her forebears, had quieted the gift of foresight that all water dragons inherently held. If she hadn’t maybe she’d have seen the storm coming. They were far outside of the isles of the Frigid Flows when something pierced the leylines. The magic of Sornieth was shifting. Muirin hadn’t heard of anything of this nature happening since the Pillar was sundered. She and Shizue looked at each other before taking to the currents to find their way back home.

The gales started to pick up as they watched the Twisting Crescendo swell in size. Wind dragons could barely be made out fleeing from their trials in the vortex. The seas around them grew angry, waves climbing above even the Flows themselves. Beneath the waves the bottom twisted and churned silt until visibility dwindled to nothing.

“Muirin! We need to get home!”

Seek shelter

Another voice spoke in her ear beneath Shizue’s plea. She looked to the east as she felt the tingle of magic flow through the currents.

“Muirin!”

Hide

Her instinct knew what the voice meant. They would never make it home. Whatever storm was billowing from the Crescendo was going to tear across the inlet. They needed to keep themselves safe first.

Muirin pulled Shizue into her claws and swam for the nearest cavern on the sea floor. A striker hissed and flared at her but she was larger. A loud snap of her teeth and it abandoned its cave to the dragon and her charge. The maren struggled, trying to pull herself from the giant paws that entrapped her.

“Muirin! Stop! We need to go home!!”

For a brief moment she thought about her young hatchlings. They were still with Shizue’s family. But she had to trust the Tidelord that they would be alright. She would seek shelter, wait out this storm, and would find them when it had passed. They were just as connected to the sea as she was. They would be safe.

Through the night the maren struggled against her guardian. And through those long hours she was held fast. Muirin’s wings buffeted their cavern from the raging currents and shrouded them in darkness. Only when the silt began to settle did she dare release Shizue and explore what the storm had wrought.

At first it seemed as though little of importance had changed. The sea floor had shifted, covering corals in sand, exposing old ships that had long since been buried. But the closer they traveled to the edge of the Windswept Plateau, the epicenter of the storm, the more damage they witnessed. Kites from Cloudsong sunken below the sea. Bits of bamboo and structures from the Millmeadows strewn along the sand. Panic settled itself in both their hearts.

Even that could not have prepared Muirin for the sight of the maren tribe’s home. What was once a bustling little community set into the cliff edge of the Reedcleft Ascent was now merely a pile of rubble. Agony tore itself through Shizue’s throat. The salt of her tears washed away to join the water that surrounded them.

They dug through the rubble for hours and found no sign of life. Only broken pieces of what they once had.

“Why, Muirin?! Why didn’t you let me help them?”

“You are my charge. I had to keep you safe.”

“What about them?! What about your daughters?!?”

There was a pang of pain and fear that they had not found a trace of her young droplets.

“I was told to find shelter, so I did.”

“Told? By who?!”

That was not a plain answer that she could give. The voice may have been the Tidelord, or it may have simply been a voice she gave to her instincts. Neither answer sounded good enough to fill the excuse Shizue wanted and her silence was taken as an answer instead. The maren clawed her hand across Muirin’s broad scaly cheek.

"This is your fault! You are dead to me, dragon! Consider yourself charge-less."

Though the scratch would not kill Muirin, it wouldn’t even scar, but the shame of being dismissed by her own charge might. There was no reason left for her to live. She failed the maren she took under her wing. She failed her race’s own purpose. She failed to live up to the one reason she might have been made to exist. She failed.

Delirious in her own depression, Muirin meandered past the broken rubble of the maren settlement. Up into the shallow rivers of the Ascent where the winds had slowed. Rivers born of rain flowed from the Sea down into the inlets she had once called home. With a heaving sigh she collapsed into the gentle lapping of the current, closing her eyes so she might be soothed by the chill against her scales. Her immense form obstructed the stream as if she were a dam created by a flattail, causing the water level over the years to rise higher... higher... until she was resting comfortably beneath the waves. It was the eternal kind of sleep she sunk into. The river that surrounded her carved at the land around her until it was a torrential current that flooded into the Sea.

Wake, my child

To Muirin, it might have only been hours that passed, or days, years, decades, eons. When she woke, the pain of her loss was just as fresh as the moment she sunk into her sleep. But the pain was not the same. There was less pain for her failure as a Guardian, only her loss of a friend. The importance of the charge was shrinking.

Before her sat a guardian, dark of scale and fiery of wing. Though despite her inclination towards the flames of the Great Furnace, her eyes shone blue as the Sea. A grin cracked itself along her dark scales when their eyes met.

“It’s good to see you again, Mother.”

Her droplet, her Ciaran, guarded her through her sleep. Muirin took this as a message. A sign that whatever had happened was meant to be. There was nothing she could have done to stop it even if she had tried to rescue Shizue’s family. This was proof enough that the Tidelord still had faith in her.

It was after the Ciaran began to lead her to the sea that she noticed her own reflection. The dragon she saw was not one she ever would have recognized. Her bulk had become sleek, the dark colors of her scales shimmered like the waves she slept under. The gold flecked rivers became a part of her, the very mineral itself embedded between her scales. No longer was Muirin the disgraced Guardian that had been abandoned by her charge. She was an Imperial, respected and honored across all of Sorneith. She could start new.

Last edited on Jun 21, 2023 08:36:17 by LittleWatty

Next you would find her mate, Aodh. A dragon with a true fire burning in his soul. But fire and water do not mix.

(image tbd?)

His First Dive
When it came to guarding the borders of the Ashfall Waste, there was one team that had always been successful. From the encroaching ice of the Southern Icefield, to the raging winds of the Windswept Plateau, Aodh and his elite held back any who would encroach on the Lady Flamecaller's domain. They were skilled enough that their beloved Matron saw it fit to bestow upon them the greatest honor she could - to grant them all the shape of an Imperial.

Yet, with their new forms came a learning curve. Muscles were in different places, bones were different lengths. One by one, Aodh's team whittled down from lost battles and dragon-error. Until there was only him. Determined not to be usurped as the Flamecaller's strongest, he was so determined to single handed defend the boarder to their north - with the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

It was in the distance he saw an immense shape, comparable with his own. In his headstrong ways, he assumed that this encroaching dragon, whomever they may be, was intending to attack. So he took to the skies himself and made sure that it was he who attacked first.

Aodh was blinded, and he was angry.

The fire burned in his chest, spewing out of his maw at the blue dragon as he collided with it. Yet for every bite, his teeth cracked. Every scratch, bouncing off scales as hard as stone. This dragon wore no armor, yet he could not do it damage! Their claws and legs locked mid air when he finally found a soft spot - the base of the neck. But in that bite, he felt his own blood sicken. It was a sudden lurch, legs stiffening, and scales itching. Even under his eyes, he could see the hard orange stone encrusting his body. In fear, his body sized and plunged from the sky. The other dragon stopped and stared as he fell farther, closer to the water that would snuff out his fire. After a moment's hesitation, the other dragon dove after him.

The cool, almost freezing temperatures of the water might have been soothing were it not for the suffocation that threatened to extinguish the life that so loyally served the Flamecaller. The deeper he the weaker the heat of the sun became, and the more tempting it was to close his eyes... to let the currents take him...

Do not die just yet, young one. You are needed.

Take this gift, use it well, and you shall be rewarded beyond your dreams.

Fish of all different kinds danced behind his eyes. Sharks and eels, tuna and wrasse. Fish of all kinds he had never seen living, only burnt to a crisp and ready to be feasted upon. Thinking of such things made his stomach turn. Then, from the dark, a small ghostly fish appeared in his mind. Small enough to fit in the palm of his claws. It danced around him, and suddenly another appeared. Then more. They kept appearing until it was all that he could see.

Aodh's throat and lungs burned as he coughed water out onto the sand. He had survived. The currents saved him, washing him ashore where he could dry, and the fire would be reborn. Except that his chest felt cold.

"How do you feel?"

The lilt of a kind voice made his head raise and turn, only to find the dragon he had just quarreled with in the sky. She was sopping wet, yet it did not seem to bother her. With a snarl, eager to get away from this stranger, Aodh pushed to his feet and attempted to fly away, only to crash back to the beach. Angry and frustrated, he ignored the scolding calls of the other dragon and attempted again. And again. And again. Until the exhaustion set in and he could do nothing but lay prone in the sand.

All of the countless battles that lay behind him, all the scars that told of each combatant, every dent or breach in his armor be damned if he could not get off this beach to return to his Lady Flamecaller!

"He said this might happen..."

Aodh snapped his jaws back at the other dragon, about to demand an answer to his own frailty, when he noticed the small fish dancing before his eyes. The very same one he had seen in his dreams. It was not in the water. It was just... floating there in front of him. Was he going crazy?!

"My healing magics could not save your fire, so I prayed that the Almighty Tidelord might lend his assistance. It was even beyond even his abilities. You would have died, had we not done something."

Snaking his head to the side, Aodh stared at his reflection within a tidepool. He could have roared in anger and pain with what he saw. The strange orange gems still encrusted his scales, but that did not concern him any longer. What hurt him the most was that his once vibrant orange eyes now... were blue.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!"

The roar shook the earth beneath their feet, teeth bared and spit flying. The other dragon only wined the slightest bit, but did not back of. Even when she tried to help, Aodh would not listen to a word and took off flying towards the border. It was difficult at first, but with each flap of his wings, he grew stronger. Each mile closer, he became more powerful. His home was calling him back.

Until he crossed into the very terrain that called to him. The heat seared his skin, singed his wings, and even melted the crystalline growths on his scales until he could no longer remain in the skies. The charred cut and pierced his scales, and cracked the gems that covered his body. His very home.... the land he had protected for so long... it... betrayed him! The fire would not welcome him back. If he remained any longer, it would likely kill him.

Aodh barely noticed a stranger helped support him back across to the Sea. Its waters cooled his wounds, but nothing could quite ease the pain deep inside. When he looked up again, he saw that same dragon who resembled the very waters they wade in, her wing shading him from the harsh sun.

"If I might ask… what is your name?”

Her voice was sweet, now that he had a moment of pause in his own mind to listen. It brought him back to memories he had long since left behind.

"Aodh. My name is, was… Aodh.”

"I thought it might be you. It’s been a long time since we last spoke.”

A Guardian that he had not seen since she was a wee newborn hatchling emerged from the surf and greeted her mother with a nuzzle to the cheek. They spoke for a moment, their words lost as he fixated on the reality of the situation dawning on him, until they both turned and smiled at him. Memories from the past flooded him and suddenly the world didn’t seem so cold. Rising back to his feet, he followed her as she guided him deeper into the waters. Down... into the depths where he would soon make his home.

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:56:02

Next you would find her mate, Aodh. A dragon with a true fire burning in his soul. But fire and water do not mix.

(image tbd?)

His First Dive
When it came to guarding the borders of the Ashfall Waste, there was one team that had always been successful. From the encroaching ice of the Southern Icefield, to the raging winds of the Windswept Plateau, Aodh and his elite held back any who would encroach on the Lady Flamecaller's domain. They were skilled enough that their beloved Matron saw it fit to bestow upon them the greatest honor she could - to grant them all the shape of an Imperial.

Yet, with their new forms came a learning curve. Muscles were in different places, bones were different lengths. One by one, Aodh's team whittled down from lost battles and dragon-error. Until there was only him. Determined not to be usurped as the Flamecaller's strongest, he was so determined to single handed defend the boarder to their north - with the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

It was in the distance he saw an immense shape, comparable with his own. In his headstrong ways, he assumed that this encroaching dragon, whomever they may be, was intending to attack. So he took to the skies himself and made sure that it was he who attacked first.

Aodh was blinded, and he was angry.

The fire burned in his chest, spewing out of his maw at the blue dragon as he collided with it. Yet for every bite, his teeth cracked. Every scratch, bouncing off scales as hard as stone. This dragon wore no armor, yet he could not do it damage! Their claws and legs locked mid air when he finally found a soft spot - the base of the neck. But in that bite, he felt his own blood sicken. It was a sudden lurch, legs stiffening, and scales itching. Even under his eyes, he could see the hard orange stone encrusting his body. In fear, his body sized and plunged from the sky. The other dragon stopped and stared as he fell farther, closer to the water that would snuff out his fire. After a moment's hesitation, the other dragon dove after him.

The cool, almost freezing temperatures of the water might have been soothing were it not for the suffocation that threatened to extinguish the life that so loyally served the Flamecaller. The deeper he the weaker the heat of the sun became, and the more tempting it was to close his eyes... to let the currents take him...

Do not die just yet, young one. You are needed.

Take this gift, use it well, and you shall be rewarded beyond your dreams.

Fish of all different kinds danced behind his eyes. Sharks and eels, tuna and wrasse. Fish of all kinds he had never seen living, only burnt to a crisp and ready to be feasted upon. Thinking of such things made his stomach turn. Then, from the dark, a small ghostly fish appeared in his mind. Small enough to fit in the palm of his claws. It danced around him, and suddenly another appeared. Then more. They kept appearing until it was all that he could see.

Aodh's throat and lungs burned as he coughed water out onto the sand. He had survived. The currents saved him, washing him ashore where he could dry, and the fire would be reborn. Except that his chest felt cold.

"How do you feel?"

The lilt of a kind voice made his head raise and turn, only to find the dragon he had just quarreled with in the sky. She was sopping wet, yet it did not seem to bother her. With a snarl, eager to get away from this stranger, Aodh pushed to his feet and attempted to fly away, only to crash back to the beach. Angry and frustrated, he ignored the scolding calls of the other dragon and attempted again. And again. And again. Until the exhaustion set in and he could do nothing but lay prone in the sand.

All of the countless battles that lay behind him, all the scars that told of each combatant, every dent or breach in his armor be damned if he could not get off this beach to return to his Lady Flamecaller!

"He said this might happen..."

Aodh snapped his jaws back at the other dragon, about to demand an answer to his own frailty, when he noticed the small fish dancing before his eyes. The very same one he had seen in his dreams. It was not in the water. It was just... floating there in front of him. Was he going crazy?!

"My healing magics could not save your fire, so I prayed that the Almighty Tidelord might lend his assistance. It was even beyond even his abilities. You would have died, had we not done something."

Snaking his head to the side, Aodh stared at his reflection within a tidepool. He could have roared in anger and pain with what he saw. The strange orange gems still encrusted his scales, but that did not concern him any longer. What hurt him the most was that his once vibrant orange eyes now... were blue.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!"

The roar shook the earth beneath their feet, teeth bared and spit flying. The other dragon only wined the slightest bit, but did not back of. Even when she tried to help, Aodh would not listen to a word and took off flying towards the border. It was difficult at first, but with each flap of his wings, he grew stronger. Each mile closer, he became more powerful. His home was calling him back.

Until he crossed into the very terrain that called to him. The heat seared his skin, singed his wings, and even melted the crystalline growths on his scales until he could no longer remain in the skies. The charred cut and pierced his scales, and cracked the gems that covered his body. His very home.... the land he had protected for so long... it... betrayed him! The fire would not welcome him back. If he remained any longer, it would likely kill him.

Aodh barely noticed a stranger helped support him back across to the Sea. Its waters cooled his wounds, but nothing could quite ease the pain deep inside. When he looked up again, he saw that same dragon who resembled the very waters they wade in, her wing shading him from the harsh sun.

"If I might ask… what is your name?”

Her voice was sweet, now that he had a moment of pause in his own mind to listen. It brought him back to memories he had long since left behind.

"Aodh. My name is, was… Aodh.”

"I thought it might be you. It’s been a long time since we last spoke.”

A Guardian that he had not seen since she was a wee newborn hatchling emerged from the surf and greeted her mother with a nuzzle to the cheek. They spoke for a moment, their words lost as he fixated on the reality of the situation dawning on him, until they both turned and smiled at him. Memories from the past flooded him and suddenly the world didn’t seem so cold. Rising back to his feet, he followed her as she guided him deeper into the waters. Down... into the depths where he would soon make his home.

Last edited on Jan 26, 2023 12:12:04 by LittleWatty

[columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/dgen/dressing-room/dragon?did=1854591&skin=42705&apparel=13825,12902,23742,944,5161,25929,12937,23743,352,13841,13817,13785&xt=dressing.png[/img][nextcol] [i]Others joined the clan within time. A small plagueling exile, an upstart of a cinder in more than one way, and yet others still. But our stories here focus on the first two. Their children. Their pain. And everything that would come to unfold because of their unwillingness to [b]see[/b].[/i][/columns] [columns] [color=transparent]...........[/color] [nextcol] [center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/55510][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/556/55510.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/68641][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/687/68641.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/208607][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/2087/208607.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/8883405] [img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/88835/8883405.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/10031995][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/100320/10031995.png[/img][/url][/center] [nextcol] [color=transparent]...........[/color] [nextcol][center] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/42985][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/430/42985.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/69297][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/693/69297.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/98790][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/coliseum/portraits/988/98790.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=transparent]. . . . . . .[/color] [/columns] [columns][size=2][color=transparent]FACTIONS The Original Three Muirin, Aodh, Saorla The Front Line Lonan, Cinaed, Amarine, Taede, Nyssa The Ice Guard Warden, Jokuul, Jorman? Shadetouched Aisieri, Myrrh, Shadesclaw [/color][/size] [nextcol][size=2][color=transparent] Portal Touched Heitor, Muerig, Way Lorekeepers Lokah, Maon, Toxy, Diaphen, Puff [/color][/size] [nextcol][size=2][color=transparent] The Keepers Forfax, Solanum, Kynya, Fuxi, Cathair, Idris [/color][/size][/columns] [center][size=2][color=transparent]NEW ADDITIONSdragon1 » Name « | Title | [ / center] [ url = https: //www 1.flightrising .c om/forums /cc/3134423 /]this formatting from Bonivich[ url ][/color][/size][/center]

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:56:07

Others joined the clan within time. A small plagueling exile, an upstart of a cinder in more than one way, and yet others still. But our stories here focus on the first two. Their children. Their pain. And everything that would come to unfold because of their unwillingness to see.

...........

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

FACTIONS
The Original Three
Muirin, Aodh, Saorla

The Front Line
Lonan, Cinaed, Amarine, Taede, Nyssa

The Ice Guard
Warden, Jokuul, Jorman?

Shadetouched
Aisieri, Myrrh, Shadesclaw

Portal Touched
Heitor, Muerig, Way

Lorekeepers
Lokah, Maon, Toxy, Diaphen, Puff

The Keepers
Forfax, Solanum, Kynya, Fuxi, Cathair, Idris

NEW ADDITIONSdragon1

» Name «
| Title |
[ / center]

[ url = https: //www 1.flightrising .c om/forums /cc/3134423 /]this formatting from Bonivich[ url ]

Last edited on Mar 08, 2023 10:55:19 by LittleWatty

tbd

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:56:14

tbd

Last edited on Jan 28, 2023 11:34:32 by LittleWatty

The firstborn son is a momentus birth. But the loss of the elder sisters, the guides for those younger than them, would impact more than just Aodh and Muirin... for water makes ripples. And those ripples become waves.

(image tbd?)

The Returned
At his hatching, Muerte was not aware of any conflict between the clans. All he knew was the kindness of his parents, and the gentle teasing of his elder sisters. He, like his sister Ciaran, had a fire in his heart as their father once did. It blazoned itself upon their wings to be shown proudly to any who might test them.

The only aspect in which they truly differed was that Muerte took after their mother as well. The gold of the river that made Muirin as she was flecked itself through his scales. He was even once told that the gold was more than an adornment. When he was young he did not understand what that meant.

As he grew, that fire inside of him did as well, until he could contain it no longer. It was what drove him to leave home and explore the world of Sornieth. To see everything there was to see. His first engaging encounter beyond the Seas was in the land of Light. Outside the Lanternlea Port where he made ground there was a glint of light off a golden orb. It matched the flecks upon his own scales and drew him in.

"A droplet moving in the wrong direction!"

The snarky voice made the young dragon stop in his tracks.

"You’d think a gilded dragon like you would be used to talking with gold.”

"What gold does speak is usually reverent.” Muerte searched the globe trying to find the source of the voice but it was only a sphere not unlike the lights of the Lanternlea.

"I need not be reverent of a droplet looking to get lost and dried up in the sun of the Ruins. I’d bet my shiny hide you won’t last a day.”

A golden lion stepped out and placed it’s paw upon the sphere and it finally clicked. This was a Golden Idol - a rare creature, once thought to exist solely within the folklore of manticores.

Muerte flashed a white toothy smile that was matched by a glint of gold from the Idol. "I will take that bet.”

This became the first of many adventures with the two of them: a dragon with a gilded soul, and his golden companion. They would get loss, exchange friendly insults, and find themselves a new story to tell any that they might cross.

Muerte picked up many skills in his travels. Mostly tinkering with little trinkets. Nothing so skilled as an Arcane dragon or a steward of the Stormlord might create. But they were fanciful little things. They earned him many admirers and his life grew comfortable. Calm, relaxed, easy. He did not know of pain or loss until the news came to him of a war with the Plaguebringer. His sisters… had been lost in the carnage. Warriors as strong as his father, and as wise as his mother, gone from the world of Sornieth. The breath left his lungs and pain brought his once lofty soul back down to earth.

He should have returned home then. To comfort his parents and himself. But he could not bring himself to return to those familiar caverns that welcomed his birth. They would feel far too empty without those he knew. So he buried that pain with companions. Many he might call mates if only they had stayed. Perhaps he was chasing them off without even realizing it.

The last that he might have called a life mate was Celine… a dragon who’s heart made him feel whole again through her uniqueness and strange habits. She was a water dragon like he was and something about that made him feel closer to her. The light that once shone on his scales seemed to return when they were together. They loved and laughed. But as with all his other mates it was a temporary happiness. The turn that saw them through the pain that broke their bond was a pair of eggs cracked too early. Sons taken by the Stormlord without even a chance for Muerte to defend them.

This pain, this loss, became too much for either of them. Instead of being able to support one another they continued to remind each other of the pain they felt. The agony of their loss pushed Celine away and he knew he had to find a new place to call home. Pain would bring strength, and through strength, he would survive. He always survived.

So many years would pass. Muerte busied himself within a clan of the Southern Icefields. An itch found its place under his scales in a storm from the east. Something he couldn’t scratch. For so long he ignored it - he was comfortable here. The familiar face of Kokiri by his side and the Idol keeping his spirits high. With every eastern wind the smell of salt filled his nostrils and tugged at his heart. The currents tugged him just the same. That itch became incessant. It felt like home. When he looked back at Kokiri the dragon understood.

"Ah, I know that look in your eye. Are we on the move?" The Golden Idol’s claws clicked against the glacial ice.

"We're going home, for real this time."

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:56:22

The firstborn son is a momentus birth. But the loss of the elder sisters, the guides for those younger than them, would impact more than just Aodh and Muirin... for water makes ripples. And those ripples become waves.

(image tbd?)

The Returned
At his hatching, Muerte was not aware of any conflict between the clans. All he knew was the kindness of his parents, and the gentle teasing of his elder sisters. He, like his sister Ciaran, had a fire in his heart as their father once did. It blazoned itself upon their wings to be shown proudly to any who might test them.

The only aspect in which they truly differed was that Muerte took after their mother as well. The gold of the river that made Muirin as she was flecked itself through his scales. He was even once told that the gold was more than an adornment. When he was young he did not understand what that meant.

As he grew, that fire inside of him did as well, until he could contain it no longer. It was what drove him to leave home and explore the world of Sornieth. To see everything there was to see. His first engaging encounter beyond the Seas was in the land of Light. Outside the Lanternlea Port where he made ground there was a glint of light off a golden orb. It matched the flecks upon his own scales and drew him in.

"A droplet moving in the wrong direction!"

The snarky voice made the young dragon stop in his tracks.

"You’d think a gilded dragon like you would be used to talking with gold.”

"What gold does speak is usually reverent.” Muerte searched the globe trying to find the source of the voice but it was only a sphere not unlike the lights of the Lanternlea.

"I need not be reverent of a droplet looking to get lost and dried up in the sun of the Ruins. I’d bet my shiny hide you won’t last a day.”

A golden lion stepped out and placed it’s paw upon the sphere and it finally clicked. This was a Golden Idol - a rare creature, once thought to exist solely within the folklore of manticores.

Muerte flashed a white toothy smile that was matched by a glint of gold from the Idol. "I will take that bet.”

This became the first of many adventures with the two of them: a dragon with a gilded soul, and his golden companion. They would get loss, exchange friendly insults, and find themselves a new story to tell any that they might cross.

Muerte picked up many skills in his travels. Mostly tinkering with little trinkets. Nothing so skilled as an Arcane dragon or a steward of the Stormlord might create. But they were fanciful little things. They earned him many admirers and his life grew comfortable. Calm, relaxed, easy. He did not know of pain or loss until the news came to him of a war with the Plaguebringer. His sisters… had been lost in the carnage. Warriors as strong as his father, and as wise as his mother, gone from the world of Sornieth. The breath left his lungs and pain brought his once lofty soul back down to earth.

He should have returned home then. To comfort his parents and himself. But he could not bring himself to return to those familiar caverns that welcomed his birth. They would feel far too empty without those he knew. So he buried that pain with companions. Many he might call mates if only they had stayed. Perhaps he was chasing them off without even realizing it.

The last that he might have called a life mate was Celine… a dragon who’s heart made him feel whole again through her uniqueness and strange habits. She was a water dragon like he was and something about that made him feel closer to her. The light that once shone on his scales seemed to return when they were together. They loved and laughed. But as with all his other mates it was a temporary happiness. The turn that saw them through the pain that broke their bond was a pair of eggs cracked too early. Sons taken by the Stormlord without even a chance for Muerte to defend them.

This pain, this loss, became too much for either of them. Instead of being able to support one another they continued to remind each other of the pain they felt. The agony of their loss pushed Celine away and he knew he had to find a new place to call home. Pain would bring strength, and through strength, he would survive. He always survived.

So many years would pass. Muerte busied himself within a clan of the Southern Icefields. An itch found its place under his scales in a storm from the east. Something he couldn’t scratch. For so long he ignored it - he was comfortable here. The familiar face of Kokiri by his side and the Idol keeping his spirits high. With every eastern wind the smell of salt filled his nostrils and tugged at his heart. The currents tugged him just the same. That itch became incessant. It felt like home. When he looked back at Kokiri the dragon understood.

"Ah, I know that look in your eye. Are we on the move?" The Golden Idol’s claws clicked against the glacial ice.

"We're going home, for real this time."

Last edited on Jan 28, 2023 11:33:40 by LittleWatty

Shadows on the Sea

The laying of a clutch is always a momentous day. Even knowing the pain of children leaving to live their own lives, or worse, their lives being taken away does not stop the birth of another from bringing such joy. But this time, this year, the clan did not seem to share in its normal jubilations. Even when this clutch of three was laid there was a certain stillness to the seas. The winds had died and the currents felt as though they were at a standstill. Something was wrong.

(bounty of elements post) https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/ann/2392505#post_2392505

Rumors had begun to spread that the Tidelord had abandoned the Sea of a Thousand Currents. The flight was alone, godless, so many ships and wings set adrift without aid. The prophecies of the Spiral Keep had gone silent. Even Muirin’s vision had begun to fade. What remained were sights of which she dared not speak.

This clutch that came to her, in the darkest of hours, was a boon. A light in the dark of her dwindling hope. In the last egg she could feel the warmth of a bright daughter. A child that would seek goodness to the ends of Sornieth. The middle egg, regal, a beacon, though something dark threatened the edge of her sight as she gazed beyond the present. The first egg… the moment she touched its frail shell something snapped her mind out of its visions. A dark chill crept down her spine much like the day she heard the news of the Tidelord’s absence. The stillness of the wind felt suffocating.

Her mind must be tired. The amount of energy needed for such visions without the Tidelord’s guidance was exponential compared to before. She let the eggs lie under Denmother Geileis’ care. In the morning when she had rested she would try again. It was tradition to give her children a glimpse of the glories they might find.

Yet, when Muirin returned to the nest and touched the first laid of the clutch, she found no glory. No hope. She saw her son, a darkness flowing over his scales, but the gold of her blood shining through. Beyond that only blackness.

“What do you see?” Aodh’s calm voice beside her soothed the anxiety brewing in her gut. His warmth settled her spirit when even Galen could not calm her.

“A daughter and two sons,” she cooed, brushing her fingers over the tops of the other two eggs. “It has been difficult to see since the Tidelord left us, but this much I know. They are bound for great things.” What she did not speak of was the frailness in her mind. The threatening darkness that she could not follow. It must be because of their missing deity… it had to be.

Every day that Muirin returned to her eggs to see if she would be given a different fortune she left disappointed. Again and again, all she could find for her first egg was darkness. A thick, engulfing blackness through which she could see nothing. Geileis’ assured her that all her eggs were alive and healthy. There was nothing she could find to explain what she could not see.

When the day finally came that her eggs pipped and the first little snouts emerged, the egg that gave her so much worry, hatched just the same as the others. A little squawking newborn stumbling around the warm caverns of the clan. Any fear that Muirin might have had was assuaged. She dared not look again into that hatchlings future for the fear might influence her to alter his fate. Whatever direction he would go… her Aisieri, her child that would be born again into a life of his own choosing, would decide for himself.

The years would pass and that willful ignorance Muirin put herself within failed to see the darkness living on his scales. A shadow that seemed to cower from the light. While his siblings left and found clans of their own, Aisieri remained, keeping to himself on the far edges of the territory. Studying within the library. Occasionally sparring with Taede or others. Whispers moved through the clan of the child’s oddness. His peculiarity and proclivity for the dark corners of a space. But Muirin could see none of it. She saw her son, a child that scared her that she might lose him like so many others, yet here he remained. Alive and happy.

Perhaps the others would allow her to see. Perhaps not. When pain has clouded the mind of one so focused on protecting those they love it is a most difficult endeavor to make them see the truth. Something old and dark lived within the heart of this young dragon and those that knew its touch might bring it into the light.

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:57:00

Shadows on the Sea

The laying of a clutch is always a momentous day. Even knowing the pain of children leaving to live their own lives, or worse, their lives being taken away does not stop the birth of another from bringing such joy. But this time, this year, the clan did not seem to share in its normal jubilations. Even when this clutch of three was laid there was a certain stillness to the seas. The winds had died and the currents felt as though they were at a standstill. Something was wrong.

(bounty of elements post) https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/ann/2392505#post_2392505

Rumors had begun to spread that the Tidelord had abandoned the Sea of a Thousand Currents. The flight was alone, godless, so many ships and wings set adrift without aid. The prophecies of the Spiral Keep had gone silent. Even Muirin’s vision had begun to fade. What remained were sights of which she dared not speak.

This clutch that came to her, in the darkest of hours, was a boon. A light in the dark of her dwindling hope. In the last egg she could feel the warmth of a bright daughter. A child that would seek goodness to the ends of Sornieth. The middle egg, regal, a beacon, though something dark threatened the edge of her sight as she gazed beyond the present. The first egg… the moment she touched its frail shell something snapped her mind out of its visions. A dark chill crept down her spine much like the day she heard the news of the Tidelord’s absence. The stillness of the wind felt suffocating.

Her mind must be tired. The amount of energy needed for such visions without the Tidelord’s guidance was exponential compared to before. She let the eggs lie under Denmother Geileis’ care. In the morning when she had rested she would try again. It was tradition to give her children a glimpse of the glories they might find.

Yet, when Muirin returned to the nest and touched the first laid of the clutch, she found no glory. No hope. She saw her son, a darkness flowing over his scales, but the gold of her blood shining through. Beyond that only blackness.

“What do you see?” Aodh’s calm voice beside her soothed the anxiety brewing in her gut. His warmth settled her spirit when even Galen could not calm her.

“A daughter and two sons,” she cooed, brushing her fingers over the tops of the other two eggs. “It has been difficult to see since the Tidelord left us, but this much I know. They are bound for great things.” What she did not speak of was the frailness in her mind. The threatening darkness that she could not follow. It must be because of their missing deity… it had to be.

Every day that Muirin returned to her eggs to see if she would be given a different fortune she left disappointed. Again and again, all she could find for her first egg was darkness. A thick, engulfing blackness through which she could see nothing. Geileis’ assured her that all her eggs were alive and healthy. There was nothing she could find to explain what she could not see.

When the day finally came that her eggs pipped and the first little snouts emerged, the egg that gave her so much worry, hatched just the same as the others. A little squawking newborn stumbling around the warm caverns of the clan. Any fear that Muirin might have had was assuaged. She dared not look again into that hatchlings future for the fear might influence her to alter his fate. Whatever direction he would go… her Aisieri, her child that would be born again into a life of his own choosing, would decide for himself.

The years would pass and that willful ignorance Muirin put herself within failed to see the darkness living on his scales. A shadow that seemed to cower from the light. While his siblings left and found clans of their own, Aisieri remained, keeping to himself on the far edges of the territory. Studying within the library. Occasionally sparring with Taede or others. Whispers moved through the clan of the child’s oddness. His peculiarity and proclivity for the dark corners of a space. But Muirin could see none of it. She saw her son, a child that scared her that she might lose him like so many others, yet here he remained. Alive and happy.

Perhaps the others would allow her to see. Perhaps not. When pain has clouded the mind of one so focused on protecting those they love it is a most difficult endeavor to make them see the truth. Something old and dark lived within the heart of this young dragon and those that knew its touch might bring it into the light.

Last edited on Mar 29, 2023 10:02:24 by LittleWatty

Home

The familiar lapping shores of the coastline at the Ascent filled Muerte with memories of a time long since passed. Hatchlings running across the shore unaware of how their lives would tear them apart. He felt the pain but also comfort. For there, waiting for him, was his beautiful mother glistening in the sun just as the sea behind her did. Even though he looked different than he did as a hatchling she knew him without hesitation. The gentle nuzzle of her snout in his mane reminded him of the shelter and stability she always offered when he was young.

“I always knew one day you would come home to us,” her rich voice spoke through the wind.

“Sornieth has much to offer but nothing quite fills the heart like the sight of home.”

“Come. You should reacquaint yourself with your family. There are many new faces for you to meet.”

Dozens of dragons filled the old caverns that Muerte once knew like the back of his paw. Some old faces, many new. One of them, a sibling. There was a certain… darkness about his brother that left him unsettled. The quiet stillness of the air that surrounded him even as he greeted Muerte. The words he spoke, though friendly, felt like ink staining his soul. Nonetheless he smiled and spoke nothing of these fears - he trusted his mother, and if she was not concerned by this presence that surrounded Aisieri, then neither would he be.

When introductions, or reintroductions, were finished Muerte followed his mother into the nesting caverns. There a few hatchlings tumbled and flitted around while the ever watchful Geileis stood sentinel over a full nest of four large eggs. By the way she looked at them he could discern they were his mothers.

“It has been many seasons since these four were laid, but they don’t make a sound. They live still but it is almost as if they are waiting for something. I stay with them as often as I can.”

The tire in her voice became apparent as she spoke. The years started to weigh on her. Few on Sornieth were as ancient as his mother and Muirin knew her heart went out to all beings. Even still, there would always be a special place in her heart for those of her own blood. So to be relegated to sitting, waiting, until your own young would take their first breaths… Muerte could relate.

“Get some rest, Mother. I will watch them with Geileis until they hatch. You won’t have to worry after them anymore.”

A silent sigh of relief lifted itself from her shoulders. Those kind eyes that supported him through his childhood now thanked him for this service. “I will never be far. Thank you, Muerte.”

So it was that he stood vigil over this nest of his siblings, much like he would have done with his own eggs. There was an ache in his heart for Celine and those he lost… but being home made it hurt less. This was a chance for a new life, a new start. He could be happy here.

After a few short weeks a shift in the eggs stirred him from his light sleep. One of the eggs started to wobble. Then another. Three of the eggs rocked in place until their shells cracked and the first of the hatchling’s snouts pipped. The fourth… lay quiet. Muerte could feel the familial magic within the egg and knew it still lived but the silence was concerning. While the three siblings romped and tackled each other, still it was quiet.

Leaving the newborn hatchlings with Geileis, Muerte decided to take a chance. The Tidelord had given his father new life once perhaps he could help here as well. Though his family’s deity had long since been missing, their faith in him never wavered. Every shift in the tides, every wave, every current was a symbol of his life. Curling his body into the shallow surf he placed the egg into the waves and waited. Almost on cue, it rocked. There was a squeak shortly followed by a second. Watching curiously Muerte saw a muzzle emerge briefly from the shell but when it retreated it didn’t return.

A few minutes of silence passed.

Curious, Muerte took a gentle claw and pulled a small fractured piece of the shell away from the small opening. Then another. Bit by bit he cleared away the fragments of the shell until he saw not one, but two hatchlings inside of the egg. A small male coiled tightly and protectively around an even smaller female. Her scales reflected the setting sun, the same familiar gold shared on her skin that they both inherited from their mother. When her blue eyes opened at long last they looked directly at him.

LittleWatty

1571

January 08, 2023 16:57:22

Home

The familiar lapping shores of the coastline at the Ascent filled Muerte with memories of a time long since passed. Hatchlings running across the shore unaware of how their lives would tear them apart. He felt the pain but also comfort. For there, waiting for him, was his beautiful mother glistening in the sun just as the sea behind her did. Even though he looked different than he did as a hatchling she knew him without hesitation. The gentle nuzzle of her snout in his mane reminded him of the shelter and stability she always offered when he was young.

“I always knew one day you would come home to us,” her rich voice spoke through the wind.

“Sornieth has much to offer but nothing quite fills the heart like the sight of home.”

“Come. You should reacquaint yourself with your family. There are many new faces for you to meet.”

Dozens of dragons filled the old caverns that Muerte once knew like the back of his paw. Some old faces, many new. One of them, a sibling. There was a certain… darkness about his brother that left him unsettled. The quiet stillness of the air that surrounded him even as he greeted Muerte. The words he spoke, though friendly, felt like ink staining his soul. Nonetheless he smiled and spoke nothing of these fears - he trusted his mother, and if she was not concerned by this presence that surrounded Aisieri, then neither would he be.

When introductions, or reintroductions, were finished Muerte followed his mother into the nesting caverns. There a few hatchlings tumbled and flitted around while the ever watchful Geileis stood sentinel over a full nest of four large eggs. By the way she looked at them he could discern they were his mothers.

“It has been many seasons since these four were laid, but they don’t make a sound. They live still but it is almost as if they are waiting for something. I stay with them as often as I can.”

The tire in her voice became apparent as she spoke. The years started to weigh on her. Few on Sornieth were as ancient as his mother and Muirin knew her heart went out to all beings. Even still, there would always be a special place in her heart for those of her own blood. So to be relegated to sitting, waiting, until your own young would take their first breaths… Muerte could relate.

“Get some rest, Mother. I will watch them with Geileis until they hatch. You won’t have to worry after them anymore.”

A silent sigh of relief lifted itself from her shoulders. Those kind eyes that supported him through his childhood now thanked him for this service. “I will never be far. Thank you, Muerte.”

So it was that he stood vigil over this nest of his siblings, much like he would have done with his own eggs. There was an ache in his heart for Celine and those he lost… but being home made it hurt less. This was a chance for a new life, a new start. He could be happy here.

After a few short weeks a shift in the eggs stirred him from his light sleep. One of the eggs started to wobble. Then another. Three of the eggs rocked in place until their shells cracked and the first of the hatchling’s snouts pipped. The fourth… lay quiet. Muerte could feel the familial magic within the egg and knew it still lived but the silence was concerning. While the three siblings romped and tackled each other, still it was quiet.

Leaving the newborn hatchlings with Geileis, Muerte decided to take a chance. The Tidelord had given his father new life once perhaps he could help here as well. Though his family’s deity had long since been missing, their faith in him never wavered. Every shift in the tides, every wave, every current was a symbol of his life. Curling his body into the shallow surf he placed the egg into the waves and waited. Almost on cue, it rocked. There was a squeak shortly followed by a second. Watching curiously Muerte saw a muzzle emerge briefly from the shell but when it retreated it didn’t return.

A few minutes of silence passed.

Curious, Muerte took a gentle claw and pulled a small fractured piece of the shell away from the small opening. Then another. Bit by bit he cleared away the fragments of the shell until he saw not one, but two hatchlings inside of the egg. A small male coiled tightly and protectively around an even smaller female. Her scales reflected the setting sun, the same familiar gold shared on her skin that they both inherited from their mother. When her blue eyes opened at long last they looked directly at him.

Last edited on Jun 21, 2023 08:33:25 by LittleWatty

When Darkness Comes

LittleWatty