#velandrian

[dragonsiblings]

Hallow’s End

Velathra hummed to herself as she decorated the cave’s entrance with a garland of flowers from her garden. It was nearing Hallow’s End and she was quite excited to spend it with Ruffle, Farra, and Velandrian. Given it would be the first time Ruffle and Farra celebrated the holiday, one could never be sure the date within the realm of the dead afterall, she wanted to make it special. The garland consisted of Briarthorns, Sorrowmoss, Aethril and a few sprigs of Nightshade.

Red eyes glistened with pride that she was able to grow them all without the blooms withering, attaching the final point and taking a step back to look at it. With a nod, she turned back to the rest of the cave, grinning at the cobwebs lingering around. Maybe a cave wasn’t the best place to live sometimes, but it was certainly exceptional during certain times of year. Tapping her fingers on her hip for a moment, she set off deeper into the cave, spotting the mass of blue that formed her brother.

“Andy! Is there a way for you to freeze some things for me?” Vela grinned as she moved closer to the other elf, leaning her hip against the jagged wall.

Tiredly, Andy looked up at her, “Depends on what it is I suppose.”

Velathra hummed, “I was curious if my magic could be frozen. I can keep the form of something when I’m concentrating.” 

The Frostwyrm shrugged, “Only one way to find out.” With a nod, Velathra sat down and the two attempted to freeze magic into many different shapes. Bats, skulls, snakes, spiders, anything creepy and spooky the two created. It took a little bit to figure it out, but she was a giggling mess at the end.

“Thank you!” With a kiss to Velandrian’s cheek, she scooped everything up and began to strategically place the items around the cave, keeping away from the Owl’s rooms. Wouldn’t want them to wake up in the middle of the night panicking after all. With a last look around, she moved back out to her garden to look at the pumpkins growing in them. 

“I think this is going to be a wonderful Hallow’s End.” 

@thecastcompany

[anzhin-the-starman]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 3 - Mortality

[This lore is a part of Anzhin's story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, sometime near the end of year three.]

TW: Depression, a quote of Foul Language/Suggestiveness, sudden Violence

A half-elf, bleary from sleep, wanders to the vanity beside his wardrobe. The growing brightness from enchanted lights is hidden by a scrim parting the room, keeping the shine from his lover still asleep in the mountains of cushions and fabrics that made his bed. On mornings like these, he looks a bit closer to his true age, especially when the glow catches the silvering strands of his hair.

'Has it really only been three years?' His thoughts whisper to him. 'Has it been three years since I lost my purpose? My job? My soul song?' He looks to one of many pictures and pieces of memory on the board on the wall cradling the vanity, the picture of Velathra and him at his last performance from three years past. 'I haven't sung with her since... We finally came up with a name for our partnership and we only used it once. She must be so disappointed in me.'

He puts a hand on his neck, looking at his sad reflection in the mirror. Even thinking to sing now makes his throat tight. Who is he? He's not a Diplomat for the Court of Night anymore, that job ended when mortals' meddling in the Shadowlands ended. He's not Starman, the singer has been silent for three long years, perhaps for forever.

Who is he? Who is Anzhin?

A half-elf that lost his meaning.

The self-loathing loop is broken by a gentle touch that gives him a start.

"Hey, babe... Are you okay?" Alathase whispers softly, draping his form over Anzhin, arms looping around the half-elf's neck. The cornsilk blond is so effortlessly pretty, petal-soft lips pressing to his boyfriend's cheek. "You look a little lost there... I'll make some tea, would you like that?"

Anzhin gives a demure nod, his voice barely above a hoarse croak. "Yes, please..."

Alathase nods in turn, slowly pulling himself away, but before he could get too far-- "What are your plans for today?" Anzhin asks, having turned and taken his hand. The Ranger smiles brightly in response. "Well, I was thinking I'd run some errands and spend some time with Evie tonight~ It's so rare our schedules actually work, you know?"

Anzhin nods, he understands. A smile even crosses his lips. Many of his partners are polyamorous themselves, and if they aren't, they understand that he himself certainly is. It's a comfort.

As Alathase disappears to the kitchen, Anzhin returns to looking at the vanity. His gaze fixes on those grey streaks again, pulling him back into the many thoughts that rattle in his mind. Such a change these simple strands bring into many of the relationships he has.

He has seen the fear in Zae'thas' gaze, the knowledge that the half-elf isn't as ageless as he is. He has also seen the so-calm sadness in Kelazen's face, understanding the passage of time, and the subtle concern in Vastherion's brow, the reminder that Anzhin is so very mortal. He's watched the panic in Allorian's face, the start of a desperate search for any sort of way to bargain with Death for him.

Jiroki's pity is rather visible to him, but he's assured himself that that is due to the trials and tribulations he's been going through to find his inner voice again while working with the Tarts.

Velathra, Velandrian, and Caythaes are rather unreadable about it, as their nature makes them nigh-immortal, and they know that anyone that isn't like them will age and die an eternity before they ever do. They are still quick to comfort him when the weight of his limited mortality bears down on him.

Aerien is indifferent to Anzhin's aging, finding it to be a rather minor detail. Alathase finds his 'graceful aging' to be especially attractive, saying, quote, "When all of this goes silver, I'm going to let you fuck me for a straight week."

It's a very wide range of emotions to deal with and comprehend. And there are still so many that he has yet to gauge a reaction from.

So, he sits. Pondering. With the help of a touch of illusion magic, he experiments. Different colors, with or without stubble, or a beard, maybe?

All ginger... It doesn't match his tired face anymore. It just looks like a man trying too desperately to cling to his youth. Away it goes.

Blond? Definitely doesn't match. Only for use with his Gremlin King costume.

He takes a breath... tries full silver. He grimaces, tinting his stubble to silver as well. It's... questionable. He tries a beard with it.

CRASH!!! The mirror shatters, a fist coated and embedded with shards of glass, the illusion gone.

Alathase rushes in with a worried noise, finding his boyfriend taking panicked breath and trembling, cradling a bloodied mess of a hand. "Ani, w-what?" He gently pulls him to stand, trying to bring him out of this shock-state. "Come on, where do you keep your first aid kit?" He could ask what happened later, once everything is calm again.

~ @daily-writing-challenge​

Mentions and Credits: Alathase Zae'thas and Kelazen @jessephantomhive​ Vastherion @danedrawn​ Allorian Jiroki @bread-elf​ Velathra and Velandrian @dragonsiblings Caythaes @mekandawn​ Aerien @thecastcompany​

[dragonsiblings]

Reunion

He knew something was off the moment the voice echoed as it, she he corrected in his mind, called for Malygos. Andy shook his head, knowing it couldn't possibly be who he thought the voice belonged to. He shook his head, pulling the last Feasting Wyrm he needed before Kalecgos called for him to join him near the Oathstone. Glowing blue eyes watched as the Aspect approach the Oathstone, curious as to why it did not seem to react to him..

"I was expecting Malygos. Where is he? And who are you?" A voice called from behind the two, Kalecgos looking up from his hand, Andy holding his breath as the voice revealed a figure he knew very well. The two blue dragons turned to look at Sindragos, Velandrian's face falling as he looked upon the see through figure.

Her striking blue eyes looked between the two in front of her, her gaze staying on Andy a moment longer before Kalecgos began speaking with her.

Andy held his breath, eyes glued to the image...simulacrum of his mother. He shook his head, minutely taking a step back as she moved to the Aspect, he didn't want to impede her or their conversation. The blue dragon shifted further away from them, moving his arms behind his back, so many memories running through his mind.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice Sindragosa wandering over to him, a curious expression on her face, "You are quite familiar to me." Her gaze looked him over, taking in his glowing eyes, icy pallor, and scars. He watched her as well, unneeded breath held, as recognition finally crossed her features, "Velandrian. My sweet boy." Sindragosa reached forward, her hand gently cupping his cheek, "This world has turned you into a hero. A man to be adored." She couldn't help but chuckle, "Where did my little boy go?"

"I...," He choked slightly, surprised at how visceral of a reaction at seeing her once again he was having, "I am no hero. This world has made me a monster," Andy looked into her eyes, "Made us, monsters."

The simulacrum's face softened at his utterance, "In the years you have last seen her, have you not changed course for the better? Proven yourself to those that would hold ill will toward something out of your control?"

His eyes closed, leaning into the hand still on his cheek with a small nod, "I suppose I have."

"Then go forth, My Hero." Her voice was full of warmth as she pulled her hand away and walked back to speak with Kalecgos.

[dragonsiblings]

Mirror Image

Velandrian didn’t know what made him look. Something about his reflection caught his attention. Cold, blue eyes looked over his naked form, brow furrowing at the body that reflected back from the waterfall. He tilted his head, trying to better understand what was wrong...incorrect about his appearance.

He was thin, he thought as he ran a hand over jutting ribs. He thought to the last time he actually ate a full, hearty meal and frowned. Centuries ago. Yes, Velathra and Anzhin would goad him to eat, but it just never seemed to add to his mass.

Blinking at his watery mirror, he finally figured it out.

A teenager’s body.

One long since scarred from a war long past. One that should have grown over the years but lay frozen instead. Trapped in a stasis of being.

But that was his conclusion, a body not fitting what his mind thought it should be. The body in front of him, reflected back at him, was one of the past and not of the present.

Velandrian snarled, slashing a hand through the reflection, watching as it warped for a moment before settling back to normal. He took a breath, shook his head and made his way back to shore, his mind made up.

No more would he look like a young, defeated boy. It was time for his body to catch up to his mind. 

@anzhin-the-starman