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Familiar
Goldenplains Poodle Mith
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Story Acolight. It had been the name given to him at his birth. It wasn't a name, really, but a label. It told everybody what he was and where he was going. And from the very beginning, he hated it. Acolight wanted to spread his shining wings and explore the world, far from the Lightweaver's lands. He looked at the deity's Beacon, shining against the sea, and he grimaced in disgust. "Not for me," he muttered, shaking his elegant head. "That stuffy old place is not for me."
He detached himself from it any way he could. He fled from his lessons, from combat training. He learned to hide in dark places, where he was not easily found. Huddling in shadowy corners and caverns, listening to other dragons search for him, he learned to love the darkness. It gave him a way out.
It wasn't long before he fled his home, flying westward, out of the Sunbeam Ruins. The young Fae was alone, but in no way helpless. He'd acquired allies who helped him evade detection and then get settled. Life at the top was good for Acolight. He was no longer some humble god's servant, droning religious platitudes and always putting on a meek, pious face for the benefit of his clanmates. Out here, he could do whatever he pleased. Out here, what was his was really and truly his.
"But why the name 'Acolight'?" he was asked. It was his birth name. Many wondered why he hadn't yet changed it.
"If you change it, won't it be difficult for them to find you?"
He laughed softly. Like all Faes, he spoke in a monotone, and his chuckle was a quiet, stuttering noise. Like clockwork. "In the Sunbeam Ruins," he explained, "all servants of the Lightweaver are called 'Acolight'. I'm just one more glittering bauble in the Great Lady's treasure pile."
But even so, why not change it? Make it a little less easy for them to trace where he had come from....
"But it's not easy," he said in reassurance. His fins flattened demurely. He gave a brief smile, showing bright, tiny teeth, and promised, "Besides, everyone trusts an Acolight."
~ ~ ~
"Everyone trusts an Acolight." Acolight believed this, and he exploited this to full measure. It was easy for other dragons, other creatures, to believe him. He was so small, so frail. He spoke softly and inoffensively. Surely the Lightweaver's servant could only have their good at heart....
Well, actually, it was more like he wanted their goods in his hands.
He passed them on to clients, other dragons who paid handsomely for this service. "Anything you want, I can get it," Acolight declared. And they all believed him....
One day, a commission came from a very wealthy customer. Another dragon, jealous and greedy, who had heard of a most precious pearl. "It is in the Sunbeam Ruins," the client's servant told Acolight. "The pearl has been enchanted, you see, and is the only one of its kind in the world. We shall not have a chance to acquire a wonder like it any time soon."
"Actually, you have a chance now," droned Acolight. Only his fins quivered, betraying his excitement. The servant nodded and proffered a fee, and Acolight pressed his tiny hands together. He examined the details of the mission, and then he got to work....
His latest mission had him casing a tower. An almost-literal ivory tower inhabited by an aged scribe. A Pearlcatcher. The old dragon had once been a great sorcerer, and his devotion to the Lightweaver was such that he had made his pearl shine brilliantly, till it was a replica of the very sun. He basked in its glow, and invited other dragons to do so. "It is the Lightweaver's radiance," he told them with a gentle smile. "The Lightweaver has blessed me with great magic, and now I share it with you. Come bask in the healing light of this sun when the days are cold and winter darkens the sky."
Acolight joined the stream of visitors that visited the tower. Poor pilgrims they were, shrouded in patched cloaks, and so too was Acolight. There were about three small groups of visitors that day, and no one paid attention to him. Each one thought he was part of another group, for he drifted around them unobtrusively, like a leaf bobbing in a stream.
In this manner, he gained entry to the old scribe's tower. He climbed the twisting staircase and went past shelves of ancient tomes. The old scribe's familiar, a Golden Plains Poodle Mith, aided visitors, helping them ascend staircases and making sure the claws of the weaker ones were tightly gripping the handrails.
When they reached the pearl's chamber, they all had to look away, for the pearl shone with brilliance even thought it was lit only by candles and lantern light. Many of the more pious visitors knelt down and bowed their heads. Acolight knelt, too, but he kept his head up. He needed to see.
He looked around. He took careful note of the room and the people around him. There was no swaying the old Pearlcatcher; like all dragons of his breed, he would never willingly give up his pearl. But then, Acolight had learned that it was often the servants of the household who were more amenable to aiding him. The Pearlcatcher had no servants except for the Poodle Mith....It was a possibility.
Thereafter Acolight drifted back to the tower, always disguised, weaving among the bands of visitors. As spring returned to the land and the sun came out again, the number of visitors thinned. The Poodle Mith came out to guard the tower, standing by the door. It didn't speak, but that didn't impede Acolight. He crept closer and then struck up a conversation. It was wary of him at first, but Acolight was very patient. He only stopped by for a few minutes every week or so, and in time, the beast came to believe that he was a courier, always passing by on errands.
Acolight began to give it treats. He spoke to it more and more often, until he was chattering to the creature for nearly hours at a time. Never mind that the Mith never responded; Acolight had learned to be talkative and he rambled on about the most mundane things. Mostly he talked about the world away from the tower. And he asked the Poodle Mith: Where were the Golden Plains, its home? Didn't it miss that place? A stuffy old tower like this was no place to be cooped up; better if it had the life of a courier like Acolight, always drifting this way and that, seeing more of the world, but still free to come home any time. Any time!
The Mith's antennae twitched, but of course, it could not answer.
It was on the most brilliant day of summer that Acolight made his move. By then, the visitors had stopped coming -- the Pearlcatcher gently discouraged them, instead urging them to stay outside and bask in the true sun's glow. So it was that Acolight was the only visitor in a long time, trudging to the tower, his head drooping. He needed help, he told his old friend the Poodle Mith. He had been feeling poorly for a while now, and he thought that the pearl's radiance would cure his lethargy. But the old Pearlcatcher wasn't allowing visitors....Wouldn't the Poodle Mith help him? They needn't trouble the old scribe. All Acolight had to do was stand next to the pearl even for just a little while....
The Poodle Mith aided him. It guided Acolight up the staircases. The tower shone with radiance, the light of the pearl permeating the very stones so that it looked like the whole structure was emitting light. "It's a pity," thought Acolight, right before he dropped the pearl into a black velvet bag.
The light winked out. Suddenly the tower was as dark as a tomb. By this sign, the old Pearlcatcher knew his pearl was in danger. He burst into the room, roaring in rage.
Acolight quailed. The Pearlcatcher, who had seemed so saintly and frail, had been transformed into a vicious fighter. He bore down on Acolight, knocking the Poodle Mith aside. It bounced down the tower staircase. Acolight tried to hurry after it, but the old dragon was in his path. "My pearl, my sun!" he bellowed. His eyes flashed fury. "Give me back my pearl!"
Acolight was unprepared for this. The Pearlcatcher's frailty had left him, and he fought with berserk fury, biting and clawing. In between moments of rage, he bellowed incomprehensible spells. The Fae dodged and wove, always trying to escape the deadly bolts of magic. All the while, he clung to the bag. He was not surrendering his hard-won prize.
It happened with shocking speed: he dodged a bolt of light, but not fast enough -- it hit the bag instead. Black velvet burned away. With a horrible crunching noise, the pearl disintegrated.
The Pearlcatcher's scream was the most horrible sound Acolight had ever heard. It was a long, raw roar, filled with infinite desolation and rage. The fury left his eyes, replaced by something far worse: the deep, black darkness of despair.
In that instant, Acolight was afraid.
He made one final, feeble attempt to escape. The Pearlcatcher stopped him. A blast of light was flung into the Fae's eyes, and he gasped in pain. He couldn't see!
The world came back in spotty little blurs, but it was too late for him. By then, the Pearlcatcher had cast another spell.
The worst part wasn't the invisible force that picked him up and flung him away, through the tower wall. It wasn't even the tremendous beam of light that scorched away his eyesight, this time for good.
No, the worst part was when the shattered remnants of the pearl rose up and flew after him. They bonded themselves to his body, and it was as if molten metal were being poured onto his scales. Acolight screamed. In his blindness, he thrashed in pain, and his scream was as terrible as the Pearlcatcher's roar had been.
Down he went, drowning in light, until the blackness clamped down on his mind. Like the black velvet dropping over the pearl. Like an eclipse plunging the world into darkness.
~ ~ ~
There was nothing for him when he awoke. The world had vanished. He patted himself down and realized he had kept his cloak, but it felt...heavier. He was heavier now, he truly was....
He dragged himself onward. Grass tugged at his feet. His hands pressed against twisted trees. After some time, he realized there was something else guiding him. It wasn't much bigger than he was. It was rounded and furry, and it led him through the woods. It frequently took his hands, pressing them against trees and rocks, helping him find his balance. It was a familiar gesture. He'd seen it in the tower before.
In the darkness of the Tangled Wood, there was some relief, but not much. Acolight no longer chattered to the Poodle Mith as he'd once done. When he did speak, his voice was soft and rough. His throat had been permanently scarred by that final scream, that day at the tower. His throat, and more besides....
Unknown days later, a Wildclaw came loping through the Wood. Its green eyes glowed beneath a wolfskin cloak. The Poodle Mith aimed a staff at it, but it brushed the creature aside. It bent over Acolight in curiosity. It sniffed at his head, his cloak and his arms. Acolight kept his head bowed, and there was not a peep from him.
He didn't react even when the Wildclaw scooped him up and then flitted away, claws barely brushing the ground, wings moving in soft, silent beats. The Poodle Mith fluttered madly after them. Even later, when the Wildclaw deposited him in an unknown den and they demanded to know who he was, he said almost nothing. "I am Acolight," he whispered, and would say no more.
~ ~ ~
Acolight remains here in the Hidden Haven, even now. His familiar, the Poodle Mith, is always at his side. Every morning when Acolight wakes up, the Mith bends over him. It pats away the tears that stream endlessly from his blind eyes and helps him put on his blindfold. The cloth soaks up the tears.
It is hard to say why the tears are flowing. He never speaks of what he has done, and no one has yet found out. We cannot say if he regrets it.
The pearl remains bonded to his body and cloak. Most of the time it is quiescent, but there are times, especially at night, when his skin burns with it and he writhes in pain. When the pain leaves him, he hears, very distantly, the old Pearlcatcher's scream. "My sun..." the scribe wails, his words ringing in Acolight's ears. "I cannot find my sun...!"
Or perhaps Acolight weeps because although he is blind, he never sees darkness. No, instead he sees white, scorching brilliance. The light of the sun. He stole it, and now its burden is his to bear. He bears its mark upon his eyes and brilliantly burning skin. He carries its sign upon his cloak, upon the jewel scorched into his tail.
He fled the Light, but it found him. And it is never letting him go.
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profile code by saturne #101073, bio by Disillusionist #254672
Meditate
Energy Stone
The caster will focus on the surrounding magical energies, generating a large amount of Breath. Reduces physical damage dealt by 75% for two turns.
25
Required Level: 1
Contuse
Ability Stone
Deals neutral magic damage and weakens the target, decreasing their offensive capabilities.
250
Required Level: 1
Brown Daredevil Cover
Apparel
It is said that the wearer of this eye cover gains unfailing courage in exchange for his or her vision.
0
Mage's Golden Overcoat
Apparel
An enveloping coat constructed with a variety of hidden pockets and pouches.
1600
Mage's Golden Tunic
Apparel
A strong linen tunic for the magically inclined.
1500
Ethereal Flame Collar
Apparel
A pulsating jewel is set into this gold-lined mantle. The cloth is cool and wispy.
1400
Ethereal Flame Tail Jewel
Apparel
There are plenty of ways to dress up a tail, but the 'vision' behind this piece is what helps it stand out.
1200
Buttercup-Edged Claw
Apparel
A decorative claw extension.
500
Goldenplains Poodle Mith
Familiar
This mith wields the elemental energies of the land.
2500
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Exalting Acolight to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
