Dragon of the Clouds || 500 Years Young

"There is no source of darkness; it is merely the absence of lights"



Zoriko is a rare type of  juvenile dragon with pointed, white scales. Her small silver talons shimmer on her toes and don't serve too much of a purpose besides grip, and spikes that travel down her body.

Her wings are longer than most dragons of her age; being a dragon of the sky meant having a slender physique, larger chest for bigger lungs, and a broader wingspan to glide through the harshest of winds. 

Zoriko's  crimson red eyes glow dimly at night, and with strong emotions, aiding her night vision. 

Zoriko's photographic memory aids her in protecting herself and others.Zoriko is learning the power of magic, and her latest abilities are often a result of impulse and desire.

As a human, her skin is as pale, pure as porcelain. This and many other features coincide with her dragon form, long, straight silver hair, crimson eyes, which glow with anger and with the twilight. Being a juvenile dragon means she's also a short human, standing a mere 5 foot.  Zoriko has Elven tribal markings upon her arms, and her legs, though she usually conceals them using appearance shifting magic.These markings were given to her by her former dragon rider Zora, though appearing after her death

Zoriko has proved time and again that her appearacne does not define her demeanor, which is rather cautious and shy. She has learned to test people she doesn't know in order to gauge their personality. Shy at first then cunning to really expose a person's true intentions. A lethal combination.



Birth and Banishment:

Zoriko was born 500 years ago in the Cloud Kingdom. However, soon after her birth, she was abandoned, shortly thereafter, forced out of the sky and onto land, for reasons she could not understand as a child. Today it can be described as prejudice.

For the part of her childhood where she roamed the skies, Zoriko was alone, and discriminated against because of her appearance; Pearly white, while dragons of the sky were an array of beautiful pastel colors, sometimes resembling the vividness of dawn and the tranquility of dusk

She was born too early and a sickness in her early stages of life caused her color to develop differently from the others. She was blessed or cursed with silver scales, some silver, and others a pearly white, and destined to remain juvenile; slightly smaller than the rest.

Image result for white dragon



Zoriko's childhood became mundane, and spent mostly in solitude.Then one day, Zoriko found a tribe of elves. Hungry, lonely, and a bit curious, Zoriko flew over to them and found that these elves were warm and welcoming. They accepted her with open arms.

They didn’t care for her color, or her size. To them she was the most captivating creature they had seen. 

Zoriko's silver color made her unique, and tied with a kind personality, Zoriko was the companion and guardian that this village desired. For the next few decades, Zoriko lived in peace, with the elves, and even made friends with a particular elf who called herself Zora, the daughter of the head of the village. She, like Zoriko had a slender physique but long curly hair which was the color of rich chocolate. 

Her appearance almost doll like, and her ears, long and pointed upwards. She made up for all the compassion that Zoriko was denied in the past, and she  and Zoriko became very close, almost like true blood siblings. Zora had taken her in, allowing to reside in her house, and sleep in her room. In fact, Zora was the girl who gave Zoriko her name, and they lived as best friends, rather than as pet and master.

Everyday in the morning, Zoriko would do her morning rounds, where she would fly above the village to stretch her wings. Soon, Zora began tagging along, riding on Zoriko’s back,whispering "Fly Safe" into Zoriko's ear. It was a statement that warmed Zoriko’s heart. For the first time in her life, Zoriko felt needed, she felt like she could finally protect, her rider, master and best friend, Zora.


Death of a Rider:

Zora fell ill one day, and against her will, Zoriko left her in the village to fetch her some herbs and meat, only to return to a village that was engulfed in flames.  Before she realized, her worst nightmare had come true, as she eventually found Zora, charred, trembling in pain.


Her dying wish conveyed with the words, "Fly...safe...My sister..." and she lay limp as she tried to hand Zoriko her alexandrite pendant.

With nothing left to live for, Zoriko, who could not bring herself to bury her master, took her corpse to an abandoned cave where she lived for a few months alongside her master. Zoriko felt eminently guilty.

With every passing day she regretted leaving Zora alone on that day, because if she hadn’t left her behind, she could have saved Zora. She blamed herself, there was one person who gave her the love a family would give her, and she lost it. Zoriko thought she would live in the cave with Zora until death consumed her whole, and she lay right next to Zora.


Skya and Nightwing:

A few months later, Zoriko was finally able to put Zora to rest, burying her where the village once stood.

Zoriko could no longer bear the happy memories that village bore, and she began to wander, hoping that her life of solitude may end soon.

A few years later she came across a black dragon of the night, named Skya, alongside her rider Lenn. Skya’s motherly instincts took over and she immediately took a wounded Zoriko under her wing.


 Skya accepted her with an open heart, and they lived as though they were bound by blood.

Although becoming Skya's daughter gave her new joys in her life, Zoriko finds it hard to trust anyone but Skya, and constantly wants to be near Skya in case she needs her.


Nightwing and the Onset of Magic:

As the days past with Skya, Zoriko finally had a new family. New found brothers, who were Skya’s blood offspring. In fact, her brother Klaus was the one who had taught her to harness her magic so that she can transform into human form at will. She became close with Lenn, Skya’s rider, and companion, and she considered Lenn’s family, her own family.

Zoriko thought her life was complete, and finally when she was strong enough, decided that she would go on a voyage and visit the grave of Zora, so that she could convey to Zora that she had finally found happiness once again.

On Zoriko’s return, she stopped by a mage who taught her other uses for her magic, including mastery of the elements. Although her descent grants her immense power in wind and water, her magic training allowed her to harness fire and lightning. Her training under this mage took years, and she returned to her home as an adult, no longer the estranged child she once arrived as.

Present Day

Today, Zoriko works for a large magazine company; as an artist. Within nature she was able to find her home, as well as her dream job, to simply observe nature and imitate its beauty upon paper.

Though she was given a home in the city, she sometimes relaxes in the wilderness of Nightwing, patiently waiting, for life to take it's course, and so she may enjoy every moment of her new life

Skya:  Adoptive mother
Rigel: Brother; Skya's blood son
Klaus: Brother; Skya's blood son
FC: Ola Rudnicka


  • No god modding, It generally ruins the plot. Give me options to abide by if you must, but no controlling
  • Do not try to kill my character either, a fight is fine, also if you startle her or scare her in any way, she will probably hold an attack stance, but she won't attack you first. Killing her will result in an immediate end to the RP
  • Just know that Zoriko is timid and cries frequently, if this annoys you, I'm sorry. Feel free to criticize it (which may lead to more tears, you have been warned), but if you can't deal with it, don't rp with me.


Authors Note:

  • I'm usually pretty quick with responses, but if you don't get a response for a few days, I haven't forgotten about you I promise. I'm a full time college student and it's crazy                                                                          
  • This song is called Norwell, and it's from the game Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask.                                       




July 29

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  • The man waited patiently as she made herself at home, oddly casual himself. As he abled in past the front entry, he pulled a stray jacket from one of the chairs in the living room and pulled it on. Out of all the space in the home, few rooms were truly cluttered… but who was he to call his stacks of books and papers as clutter? Regardless, he did a quick round and gathered up some stray sheets from around the coffee table, stacking them up and setting them on the other side for the time being. 

    “I had done some traveling last month… Through Europe mostly,  a couple of nights here, a couple of nights there,” The man would kick himself internally at how simply he could put it, just like that. The events of those travels were another story altogether. He wouldn’t dwell on it, brushing past the subject with his words and keeping a grimace off his face to the thought. 

    And so he listened, instead. He stood with his forearms resting on the back of the empty chair, not quite committed to sitting down yet. By the end of her synopsis, he was nodding his head gently. "An Elf's system is much more efficient as a whole. You would think such a healing rate would affect their stamina, increase their metabolism... but the majority of them being historically vegetarian or vegan, they had either perfected their diets, or can simply make do with far less than a human requires... not that metabolism is the only factor to one's life force." So she'd done the reading. It brought a smile across his face as he thought. “They live simpler lives. They live past the cusp of the human life span which, tragically, a lot of growth can happen in the years just past that.”

    It had its minor curses as well. He watched as Zoriko’s eyes lit up to the subject as a whole—it was a gift to truly experience things for the first time. The longer that time went on, it was more a matter of searching for it. With a hum, Spencer rocked back on his heels and made his way to the kitchen. Of course, he had made both. He returned a few minutes later with a mug of coffee and a cup of tea, setting hers down respectively before he took a seat in the chair across from her. He held the cup in his palm and cleared his throat.

    How is Lenn doing? ...Spencer froze momentarily. His gaze shifted back to the dragoness almost blankly, fingertips tapping his cup in thought. He certainly couldn’t lie to her. That didn’t mean he’d accepted what the truth was in the matter. He didn’t know for sure. He lowered his hands, letting the cup rest above his lap for the time being. “I… don’t know,” Spencer started. “I haven’t seen him. Not since our last session...I paid him a visit or so when he wasn’t answering, he wasn’t home. The apartment looked no different.” He frowned. “I stopped in your mother’s shrine, and his jacket was folded… you and I both know he wouldn’t part with it. I don’t know what to make of it.”

    The man’s shoulders shrugged apologetically when that was all he could offer. Finally, he took a careful sip from his tea and then set it down on the table between them. His eyes studied it for longer than needed before he cleared his throat. Mercury hues landed on Zoriko once more, the trouble wiped off his face. “Well… it seems you have been doing quite well for yourself since we have started. It’s made me consider something...” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he left her in silence briefly. “How do you feel about travel?”

  • How long had it been now? Weeks? A month? With every visit and every lesson, it was enough to fall into a rhythm and routine with each time the dragoness would come to the door and begin her studies. Throughout their studies there were texts after texts thrown at her, lesson plans ready for when she would appear, when one could wonder whether Spencer found the time to sleep. He didn’t. Her own studies had provoked him into continuing with some of his own, where he had spent far less time roaming the territory and far more in his study areas, whether it was the house or Skya’s keep. 

    Their ‘cadaver’, Lenn, felt like more of a ghost than he. It had an unsettlingly long time since Spencer last encountered the man, even if it meant going as far as into the city to try knocking on the man’s door. Nothing. The knock came on the door to shake him from those thoughts, glancing across the way in the direction of the door, as if he could see it. Pulling up his chair from the kitchen table and walking across the expanse of a living room, walking past stacks of books yet to find homes in the house, Spencer made his way toward the front door. He wouldn’t bother on checking who it was as he pulled the door open, stepping aside. 

    “Good morning,” Spencer chimed, hiding the previous trouble on his face with a smile. Once the door was open he had already stepped back, letting her settle in. “I suppose its been a short while since I dropped everything on you… The books can be set down on the coffee table, for now, did you learn anything?” It was a subtle apology for leaving her with all of human and inhuman anatomy to study, hefty textbook stack and all. As he had nagged once before, one didn’t have to be a doctor to learn healing magic, but the stronger the base, the fewer incidents.

     “Are you hungry? Tea? Coffee?” The man questioned as he tipped his head to gesture toward the kitchen. What kind of lesson was it if he didn’t try and feed her like somebody’s grandparent first? His hands slipped into the pockets of a pair of joggers worn, a loose t-shirt accompanying. Today brought a new topic, and perhaps, a proposition.


    Looking back through my external hard drive...

    I forgot I ever made this shitpost, so now you have to suffer

    through looking at it with me (I'm sorry).


      Let's all just imagine Spencer sporting a pair of sneakers  

  • *Did not proofread this* ._.

    Her words concluded. Lenn’s face gave few initial hints to the results… he was a man that could wish away pain by simply dwelling on something else. For now, he put his focus unto it. After shaking his head, the man shifted his arm some. He turned it, clenching and unclenching his hand so to prove it. While Zoriko’s attention went elsewhere, he snuck a glance to Spencer before his gaze returned to the table.

    Spencer’s instructions were recited promptly, calmly. They were mistakes he had made dozens of times, tasks the dark haired man had helped him with so many years ago. Giving her time and utmost patience, he resumed a comfortable position. With each time she spoke those words, repeating over and over, his mind eased when she spoke little to none wrong. His attention turned entirely, even. In the background he had the book open once more, flicking the page silently.

    Lenn meanwhile listened and watched. A short stream of blood had made it to the table from the cut. When the final phrase left her lips, he gave another pause of silence… His hand opened and closed once before a smile edged at the corner of his mouth. “Well done.” He stated. Standing from his seat, he turned toward Spencer across the table. The white haired man had looked up from the book the moment Lenn uttered the words. He wore a grin across his face.

    “With the right focus, an incantation, some care…” Ushering Lenn to extend his arm, Spencer’s hand went over the wound. Words would not audibly leave his mouth as he put his fingertips an inch or so above the cut. After a moment would pass he raised it again; nothing but blood remained of the injury.

    “I have another select couple for you, on the same level of difficulty, complexity…” Spinning the book back around, he pointed to a couple similar passages on the next page. “One is for warming the flesh, the other for cooling.” Spencer leaned forward on the table some, tipping his head toward Zoriko diligently. “Do you remember the stone I had requested you to balance..? Many spells will require a similar amount of control… not too much, nor too little. The spell you first cast could cause nerve damage if used too haphazardly. Likewise, misuse of the next two may have the possibility of causing damage in a similar way…”

    . . .

    By the time the afternoon was reached, Spencer swept his hair back out of his face and exhaled. “Perhaps we can conclude there for the time being.” He proposed. His gaze cast to Lenn, who had come out unscathed by the end of it, spare an ounce of blood and energy on his own part. The man nodded likewise. Snatching a pen from a counter facing the wall, digging for a piece of scratch paper, Spencer started to scrawl on it. His handwriting was of cursive, written quick and at a slant- but legible.

    “I will leave you with this… I want you to work on memorizing those spells as well as the next two pages. The first few pages of the anatomy textbook, skim through the book on injuries and first aid.” As he finished writing such things down, he tucked it in the top book and stacked all three neatly. “Do so at your own pace, although I recommend you work diligently. Know I will be here if there are questions. Is there a time you wish to meet next?”

  • “Spirits you say? Take heed Brightscales, my own adversary will not honor such an agreement to take this elsewhere, even the deceased are not safe from his clutches. As unfortunate as that may sound.” In response to the protest Zoriko gave them about engaging each other right there on the spot, a warning was given on just how disrespectful that tri-headed menace truly was. Hearing that made his left head grit his teeth out of annoyance, having subconsciously known this was a fact about his true nature. While the onyx scaled leviathan wished to comply with her request, the other would not if it meant ripping out his opponent’s throat.

    “An island?”

    “This land is part of a whole continent.”

    “You would be wise to know this is an active war zone.”

    What made this seemingly random encounter all more bizarre was the obvious lie they were not on the type of land mass Draven just described, claiming to be standing on something else entirely. Even Tempest knew this wasn’t true by any means, but that didn’t stop him from rescuing a certain human he was advised not to retrieve for their own safety.

    Within seconds of answering, the necks of all three began expanding slightly with a sort of build up increasing in their throats. Thanks to a quick glance he had, the azure scaled beast managed to anticipate the incoming strike and took off on all fours, unsure if this was intended for him or his Uncle at first. The middle head’s maw opened to release a wide, cobalt inferno that charred its way towards the Oceanic elder just a short distance away, already leaving embers in its wake. Mel was quick to collapse onto his side and rotate his entire body aside for evading it. Upon rising onto his talons, his dense jaws would part until a stream of pressurized, boiling water erupted from it.

    As they were still attempting to incinerate him, the triad found themselves being struck and easily gaining a mouthful of salt water. Were it not for them ceasing that fiery breath, their heads would’ve literally exploded from creating so much steam, luckily for him that brutal event did not occur. The fallen Monarch snarled loudly until their wings began beating against the soil below to get airborne and take flight. The ancient Sea Drake charged forth to grip his tail from behind once he had flown past using his cone-like fangs. Such an unexpected halt caused him to descend and tumble into a rock formation and take out a few unfortunate trees, if any two-legged beings were standing close by, that impact would’ve felt like a short-lived quake beneath the Earth.


    Wherever Zoriko would choose to land prior to their escape, the one who disobeyed her was quick to follow her there. Should she choose to cease flight at a safe distance from the confrontation going on, said young drake would be reluctant to approach her and said nothing, already attempting to predict how she might feel about his actions back there. His eyelids came down almost halfway at the thought of his decision, but there was a very specific reason as to why he carried this out and may need to justify that to her soon.

    A quick release from his upper back was made to let the Captain slid down off his side and dust off his shoulders afterward, soon walking over towards his lowered head. His gloved palm reached over to run itself across Tempest’s neck repeatedly on its side. Said onyx haired male shook his own head in minor disapproval for what took place earlier, but chose to pat the young drake regardless. If the white Dragoness hadn’t caught on earlier, it would seem those two knew each other to anyone’s shock.

    “One of these days you’re going to land on something as stubborn as you are, putting yourself at risk like that was reckless.” He said, scolding the wingless Dovah about his prior actions but did not raise his voice at him. “But I appreciate you saving me back there, if this were the other way around I would’ve done the same.” The lesser man announced, where Tempest would then nudge him lightly in the chest. In return, he received multiple pats around his snout before replying. “I wasn’t going to sit there and let him rip you to shreds, I’m not losing another friend just because that big bloke has a stick in his ass.”

    Now that they had their precious reunion, there was another matter they had to tend to, and that was Tempest not complying with the Dragoness’ orders earlier. Knowing there might be some emotional conflict if this wasn’t settled soon, the Captain broke away from him to approach Zoriko reluctantly, also taking a mental note of Zora’s presence. His two-piece visor was removed to reveal a pair of liquid mercury irises underneath when gazing back up at her towering figure if she chose to remain in her true form by then. It was at that moment when he spoke to her on Tempest’s behalf.

    “Hey… I may not you, and you probably sure as hell don’t like me, but I’m vice admiral Richard Magellan Bicondova, captain of the USS Unity which is docked not far from here. The point of me introducing myself is that I take full responsibility for Tempest did, him and I have known each other for some time. I came here as an explorer, searching for ancient relics from the Nightwing Empire solely for study. I did not foresee any aggressive dragons being here, we picked up nothing on it through radar, so I assume the big beefy boy back there was sleeping. He just came out of nowhere and attacked me. All I ask is that Temp isn’t blamed for something I did, please…”

    His words about the matter were sincere to say the least, all the Sea Drake did was try to defend someone he held dear. Could anyone really get onto him for that?

    Before the white scaled female could answer, her friend finally asked him a question that might surprise her. “Rich, where is Gleeon?” This ultimately left him silent for a moment and made him turn his silvery hues elsewhere from her, contemplating on his answer. In what felt like a prolonged wait, Bicondova responded to him. “I’d hate to be the one to tell you this, but I’ve lost contact with him. We kept in touch through phone calls and planned to meet up again. The last thing I heard from him was that he and his adopted mom were moving somewhere, he didn’t tell me when, where, or why. The only one who’s here with me is Eris, her and I fled together when we abandoned the Invictus.”

    “What about Clarion?” Something about uttering that name made the young drake speak in a much lower tone before, even his heart sank a little in his chest until a reply was given.

    “You might be in luck, because I may know where she is, or at least have a lead on her whereabouts. For now, I wouldn’t get my hopes up until we get there, I know she means a lot to you. At the moment, we ought to be more concerned with getting off this island. If your friend here can turn back into human form when we get to the beach, we’ll take my submarine back to the city, it's our best bet for avoiding any other beings like Draven again. Eris is waiting there, she might be thrilled to see you again.”


  • "Lily." She answered, watching the woman pat the ground in front of her. Slowly, she sat, observing her curiously. Lily had never seen a woman like her before, nor did she feel any inherent connection either. She had the means to protect herself if the stranger was perceived as a threat. 

    "What's your name? And what happened?" Her questions started, and would not stop until her curiosity was satiated.

  • As her deliberation came to an end on the object, a smile showed. Seemingly accepting of it, Spencer nodded his head to the decision. “So be it… consider it yours whether it be of use or sentiment.” The possibilities were endless for the matter. An extra ounce of strength could do one well in more trying times, after all. Leaving the topic be, his eyes turned down to the spellbook and the words on the page. He knew them instinctively and could likely recite them backward, once upon a time.

    There came a time once, however, where he couldn’t. Where his judgment was easily clouded and his abilities were put into question. Where he held his breath just as she was to the thought of acting. It came, and it passed… and so he was patient. The knife had been handed over, where Spencer stood equally calm to the events that would unfold. He did so without a flinch… he knew the nature of his friend as well as the history where it would bother him none.

    Lenn was perturbed little, all the same. The expression across the regularly stoic man’s face was grave as he did his work, holding off the pain that was an irritation to the grand scheme of things. What had brought him to be able to complete the action without flinching… was another long story altogether. The knife was set down with a far quieter clatter on Lenn’s part, eyeing the deep crimson that seemed borderline maroon with some disdain. Emerald hues then studied Zoriko’s face where he pinpointed the panic as it set in.

    It came to the man with some surprise that she acted. It went against the anxious figure that he had last been visited by, in the months before. Regardless, he watched Zoriko stride forward toward the problem… Lenn was calm. What if he had not been? If he were panicking? Such scenarios were to be faced as time went on. For now, the man gave no fuss when she grasped for his arm gently, turning it to her whim in order to go about the process.

    Both men watched and ultimately waited. Spencer’s eyes were upon the table as she spoke the words, going over each in his head in comparison. Eventually, he looked toward Lenn for indication quietly. The man clad in black showed little indication on his face throughout, waiting for the words to finish all the same in order to respond.

    Lenn’s silence persisted for some time, unnerving even to the white-haired man who readjusted his position some in wait. Eventually, the man’s head shook. Emerald hues settled on Zoriko with some sympathy. “Take your time.”

    “The fourth line, strive for clarity,” Spencer chimed in quietly. “There is little to fear in not achieving on your first time... with this being new text, half your worry is in reciting; understandably it leads to hesitation. Read it once more, repeat it to yourself a few times over if you so wish. The more accustomed you are to those words, the better off you will be. After today, I will have given you more time with the text I will assign you.”

  • As her question came, Spencer responded first with a sheepish grin. His eyes fell to the table, sweeping his hair back when he looked up again. “I will admit, in giving you that ring I was underestimating you… I should have known better, forgive me for it. As I mentioned, magic comes almost naturally to dragonkind, from what I have ever observed… even without your pendant, you may be more than capable. Yet with it, down the road… it may serve as an energy reserve for when you need it.” Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “The ring is yours to take or leave. It may return to the drawer if you would like. Otherwise, perhaps you might find yourself in a position to pass it down.”

    He was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Yet forward thinking wasn’t always a terrible thing in his mind. When the question turned to his own dealings, he paused a moment thoughtfully. “Once upon a time I was heavily reliant, I used written markings such as seals, the use of stones... I still do for more complex things. I keep a grimoire where written word can be an aid in times of need. There is no wrong or right formula, simply those more efficient or suitable. The closer I get toward using my own energy the better, but I will always be with assistance.”

    The second book was handed over with ease. Where Spencer had learned once the old fashioned way, they would make due with what they had. He gave a hum of amusement to Zoriko’s comments, a smile visible. “If I do my job, you will save lives with it. In the very least, make them easier for a little while. He smirked afterward. “You will have to tell me if there is, won’t you?” Spencer mused.

    Time was given to read over the text on the page, where Spencer crossed his arms again. His gaze fell on Lenn who was ever silent as always, still attentive to the process. It wasn’t the first time he had aided the spirit in magic, witness to his own self-teaching many years ago. Lenn’s emerald hues shifted to Zoriko as well in wonder just how it would be received for the dragoness.

    “Casting a spell is like firing a gun,” Spencer started calmly afterward, seeing the flash in Zoriko’s eyes as her words were concluded. He knew she was done, and an ounce of what she might have been thinking. “You can hold a gun in your hand, you can grip the trigger… you can think about firing. You can say you will pull the trigger. Although if you are not ready, if you are unfocused, if you don’t have the intent to act… you won’t. Magic requires intent and decision making. Aim to always do so with a calm head; strong emotional reactions, the use of only instinct, can detour your results.”

    It was time, then. Walking closer toward the doorway, opening yet another drawer, the creak of it opening mirrored the clatter of metal on the inside. Spencer pulled out a small, thin penknife and flicked it open. “That spell is presented in the beginning of the book for a reason. Tripping on your words will do no harm.” The knife was then stuck to the table point down to it stood, closer to Zoriko’s side of the table.

    It was Lenn that took it, expression unphased other than an exhale that left his chest. As Spencer had reached for the item, the man was busy rolling up his sleeves to his forearms. A stool from the corner was pulled up secondly and he took a seat before plucking the knife off the table. He held it gingerly in one hand. “There are other complications to not being able to wield magic…” Lenn murmured in a low tone. It was quieted in compared to Spencer’s on the subject. “My own blood restricts it from what I am... Regardless demons are far more capable with destructive forms of magic.” He informed. As if on queue, effortlessly he lowered the knife to the top of his forearm and pulled it across the skin. Sharpened like a scalpel, it made not a sound. Crimson seeped from the precise, quarter inch deep gash it left, a notably darker color than what it should have been- Lenn showed no concern over the matter. Without a flinch, the only sign on the man’s face that the cut had occurred was a slight furrow of his brow, his lips pursed. The recognition of pain was a glint in his eye just for the instant it started. He stopped after what was about three inches across. The knife was set down afterward.

    “Your scene is safe, your victim is open to assistance, and perhaps owed a thank you when we are all said and done...” As Spencer spoke he picked up the knife, wiping the blade with a cloth. “An injured person calms down considerably when they can no longer feel it. To dispel pain is one form of sedation before you handle the injury itself. When you have your words read over to certainty, put your focus on the issue at hand and do so.”

  • That reaction of hers only further his interest. In a matter of seconds, the tri-headed terror himself nearly closed the gap by hovering all three just inches away, each snout facing her directly. The right one had its maw curving upwards to reveal a set of fangs that shifted into a demented grin while the left simply gazed upon her with vengeful hues, as if contemplating on striking her. His middle head remained elevated behind the others and tilted, having narrowed his light blue orbs in suspicion to her statement.

    “If that’s how it will be, perhaps I should continue.”

    “But know this.”

    “I. Hate. Liars. You and your sea wyrm would be wise to remember that, daughter of Skya.”

    Hearing it all already sent chills down Tempest’s spine in the meantime, having made a profound mental note of what sounded like an ominous, yet indirect threat. His heart skipped a beat while freezing in place for a good moment or two, up until his winged counterpart had begun her transformation. The Draconic Lord meanwhile resumed his gaze at Zoriko before drawing his other two heads back to grant her some room, but were still not phased by her change in appearance.

    Her aquatic friend was incredibly reluctant to move from his spot and leave a certain man behind, the same one hunkered down behind a rock their unholy guest failed to spot. He almost shook his curled fists at the thought of leaving for some strange reason, despite the fact it was nothing more than a human who lacked any special traits or powers. Surely there must’ve been a reason why he was adamant on saving the Captain other than for the sake of morality, right?

    For the sake of making them more formidable without provoking him, and because of his urge to shed that human facade, said Sea Drake allowed his body to radiate a familiar cobalt aura again. Much like her, his figure rapidly expanded to the armored being he was, easily morphing in shape to take on his true form. Even after that, he still lacked in size compared to the massive behemoth standing in front of them both. Draven’s left head snarled mildly in annoyance to just seeing it, knowing his extreme distaste for any Oceanic dragon kin.

    Yet before a decision can be made on whether or not to disobey Zoriko, the soil beneath all their talons shook, akin to when their visitor first charged at them, only lighter in weight. As one might expect from something so enormous like another Dragon, more trees were ripped from their foundations, or toppled inside to make way for a second intruder. Bits of dirt were flung about just a short distance away in the direction Zoriko was intending to go, but nothing could prepare her nor Tempest for what was about to make its appearance.

    Though not as massive as the former Kaiser, four claws stepped forth, both coated in thick onyx scales all the way up. A soft, thick, almost rubbery golden underside was found beneath the enormous feral figure that ceased all movement directly in front of the white Dragoness. Fins intended for gliding across water could be seen on each limb, gills located on its neck, and crimson serpentine hues. If that wasn’t enough to make a disturbing resemblance to her friend, the three horns adorning his head certainly were. Much of that exterior faded some, many scales being weathered by age, a few partially coated by barnacles originating from the sea. His size was the most notable feature, being at least two hundred feet across from head to tail.

    Not one, but two ancients were among them, and not of Nightwing.

    That dense maw of his parted open to reveal a much larger set of fangs that easily dwarfed Tempest’s, where one immensely loud roar was given, enough to shatter windows if there were ear. Even the surrounding vicinity quaked some from the vibrations it created, most if not all of it being directed towards the multi-headed creature they just encountered. No attention was paid to Zoriko as the mysterious black Sea Drake glared him down with the spinal fins on his neck rising up. The trio in question gritted his teeth with his left head snarling, only for the other two to stare back with vengeful orbs.

    The young drake meanwhile was too occupied gazing up in awe at the being who had just appeared before them, as if recognizing him right off the bat. He froze there in place for a good moment or two, until he was required to step aside since those two were already contemplating on who’d initiate the first strike. His emerald irises were already widened at him, still in a obvious state of shock at just the site of one of his own kind, a living one in fact. While it was inevitable the two leviathans would battle soon, his lips curved to form one enormous grin after being time to process who it was and announce it out loud. “That’s my_Uncle~!!”

    “You have some nerve setting foot here, wyrm!” The middle head snapped first. “And you call me the sist, I wish not to know what business you have with a juvenile from my pod, but I’ll be sure it’s the last.” Said the onyx scaled behemoth while his nephew inched his way out of sight between them both. “So you came to meet your grave? Very well, but the time this is over, I shall feast upon BONES of you and your youngling!!”

    As the two exchanged some banter back and forth, the much smaller azure scaled figure was about to deviate from where Zoriko was until a certain Captain erupted from cover. Since Draven was too occupied with the newcomer, he managed to sprint over towards her, where Tempest then scooped him up in a claw to place on his back. Why he chose to disobey her or that human willing ran in their direction was a wild guess at that point, it may or may not be a personal conflict they’d have later. With little time they had, the younger Dovah whispered a question to the man seated on the base of his neck frantically.

    “Where the hell were you…?!”

    “Went back to my former job, I couldn’t find anybody else other than Eris.”

    Now, why did he and that human act as if they know each? And who was Eris?

  • The past, in the end, had been right where he left it. The irritation of not knowing had only diminished since he first walked through Nightwing’s bordering territory. In a sense, even with his break from traveling, once Spencer had entered, he never truly left. The thought kept him going. Even in a now silent territory, he was at home. Nonetheless, he carried on just as he would now. Explaining further, Spencer spoke as if he were in his element. The wealth of information was something perhaps he had waited to share, or never thought he would at all. As Zoriko asked her question, before she would even finish he was nodding along. A smile returned soon enough.

    “Magic across the board works differently from person to person… it comes as easier to elves while humans may struggle to master it. Dragonkind is born with it on most occasions. It is a personal belief that perhaps lifespan plays a role in it.” Spencer cleared his throat and continued.

    “As for the Germanic magicians, in particular, those who worked with rune magic, the Norse labeled as seiðr, or Seidh… Between... oh… the late 800’s into the 1000’s when Heathenism was practiced broadly. Icelandic tribes divided the factions in two. Magicians were known as Galdramen. They were split between the Seidh as well as the Galdur. The Seidh based their skills upon more natural methods of magic with uses of animal and plant life in order to conduct themselves… The Galdur approach magic with verbal formulas and symbolism. The Seidh worked upon the energy and life forces of their tools. It was a shamanistic form of magic wielding. As for those tools? I have a book that may interest you as we go further. A Galdur magician’s work is far more dependent on the power of the magician itself. Incantations were prevalent. Some cultures, including Norse among others, require themselves to channel magic through a deity of their choosing.”

    “Magic is prevalent in places around the world… it all boils down to where the user channels their intent. How they went about their teachings, from one magician to another.” Spencer shrugged his shoulders. Taking a step back, he continued.

    “Some cannot hold the stamina to use magic without the assistance of an object from which to channel it through. Others may not be able to channel their intent clearly enough to produce spells without verbally speaking out their incantations. Some, for either reason, are not capable at all. I have found that I am unable to wield magic as naturally as others may be. I account it toward my half-human bloodline, for lack of better reasoning… to this day I cast not a spell without putting quite a bit of energy into my intent; I cast nothing out of instinct. It makes healing magic especially strenuous… but it could mean someone’s life, all the same. I keep a journal on hand when I travel.”

    As Spencer took a breather from his barrage of information, the book was pulled off its place, marked, and soon enough handed over to her for her own reference. It had served him well, and now perhaps it would do for her, even better. When the question was left in the air, Spencer leaned forward against the table in wait for an answer.

    Soon enough, Zoriko would respond with one. Giving no indication it was wrong, instead, a subtle nod came from the white-haired man. “So you assess the situation… if safe, you proceed. First aid rules follow even more strictly in healing magic. If someone lucid wishes no assistance, even in the face of death, their wishes are to be respected. Not to say you cannot go by your best judgment in some situations.”

    “And so, you identify the nature of the injury and you begin the process of healing…”  Spencer turned his back once again. Another book was taken off the stack, newer in covering. He set it on the table and pulled it open to what were diagrams in full color. Anatomy. “This book covers basic human anatomy. You need to know the canvas that you are working upon in order to better identify the problem, and solve it without causing further injury. Many of the structures, such as organs and muscles, and so on, remain similar throughout a broad range of species as well.” Spencer flipped to a spot halfway through the book, where another marker was placed. “It includes an appendix of different ailments, injuries, diseases alike... and what may be their cause. How to properly handle each according. We will start small and grow from there on.”

    “As promised, we will start small… if you wish to proceed with more complexity, then let these two texts be your guide. Any incantations I give you, I expect they will be memorized in full. Tripping over one’s tongue can be hazardous.” Spencer closed the book, sliding the first book of healing spells closer again. He opened it to the introduction bookmark and flipped a couple pages. Turning it around, he pointed it back toward Zoriko and placed a finger over the top of the page.

    The text displayed was brief, almost poetic in its delivery. With only four lines, it read much like Shakespearean English while still being legible. The header read as ‘The relieving of aching’. “We will start here. Read it, speak it… take your time. When you feel you can recite clearly without looking, we will proceed.”



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"Spencer held the door open for her and stepped aside so she could enter. A smile took to her face…"
Oct 1, 2019
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"Zoriko approached the cottage now, books in hand, very focused expression on her face. Her mind…"
Aug 5, 2019