LadyK
(#22119665)
Level 5 Pearlcatcher
Familiar
Shorn Cerdae
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Pearlcatcher
This dragon is hibernating.
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Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.63 m
Wingspan
4.35 m
Weight
633.6 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Poison
Poison
Obsidian
Peregrine
Peregrine
Ice
Sparkle
Sparkle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 3691 / 5545
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
 Lady K
T H E M E S - Gasoline (Clean) by Halsey Saints by Echos Hope by Dead_Me Fallen by Dead_Me Bringer of Chaos by Dead_Me Fleshless from Enderall O C C U P A T I O N - Diplomacy Chief Diplomat of Court Reverence Survivor of Voiceless Reverence F A M I L Y - - Parents - Mother - InkWash (Deceased) Father - Latent (Deceased) - Siblings - All have exalted or led peaceful, dormant lives...save for the ones that she despises. - Mate - Perhaps the Court of Reverence itself. - Children - All the tools at her disposal. F A M I L I A R -  A P P A R E L -
A R T - All art is clickable and links back to their creators C O L I S E U M ྿
E X T R A - - Genes/Apparel - Ah Kayla...she's had three outfits so far. This brat drains my wallet endlessly. - Comments - Kayla is a gorgeous dragon with beautiful lore! I was absolutely enchanted, reading her sordid tale. For someone who spent so much time taking on the characters of others, she certainly has a lot of intriguing character herself! I just read the entirety of Kayla's lore I just read it, though, and it looks awesome! It’s not something I’ve seen before, actually; I don’t see many lores about an average dragon, usually they have something massive happen, but it’s really cool that she’s just described as average quite a bit!! What? There is NOTHING wrong with an elegant monochrome! And she has such good lore, and a good familiar for her plague type! I do not have the patience to write that much lore, so I'm impressed! What a pretty baby! I almost didn't realize she was wearing an accent at first. Tbh, if there's any dragon to pour so much attention into, she definitely deserves it! Holy sweet Glademom, I LOVE Kayla's lore!!! Everything about it is gripping and it's so well written! From her hatching to where they are now is such a smooth transition, aaah! She is wonderful! so majestic! the white/black coloration and her white/silver apparels matches perfect together! Wow! You have some intense lore and art for that girl. She’s lovely and those silks look great on her. K is gorgeous! Love the poison gene on her. Loved looking through all that art. It's so cool to get to see all these different art styles of one subject. The one with the ghost costume had me chuckling heheh. - Headcanons - If she were human, her hair would be kept as a short pixie cut for the use of wigs, extensions, and similar alterations. -VoxxVoleur She looks like some fierce Rogue-turned-Queen. She's plague so I'm going to assume she's had a tough battle to get to whatever rank she has but she's well respected for it and now wears her silks with pride. She could come across as ladylike but under those silks are hundreds of daggers ready to the cut the throat of anyone who dares undermine her. -? - Lair Reviews - The amount of descriptiveness, and depth put in to Kayla's bio is nothing short of astonishing. For such a quick read, it delivers better than some full blown novels. It takes quite the tale for me to tear up, so besides the fact that everything is well written and fleshed out, the structure and flow is on point, I recommend the read alone based on one reason. This poor bean brought me the closest I have to crying in close to a decade. Kayla is more unique than she realizes, with just as unique of an author behind her. I like Kayla! Her lore is very nice and well written. It's fluid, well-paced, and full on contrasts. I really love that how she acted as a child kind of led to her position in the clan when she grew up. I would really love a closer look at how her mother's death changed her-- like a full book about her childhood honestly. The description of her job is also very well-written. I think it summarizes and describes her role and past well enough while not going too into detail. What happened to her clan is probably the saddest part of her lore. Luckily (or maybe unluckily?) she made it out alive! -balthy - Forum Games - C R E D I T S - Coding Template, Honor by the Sword by Merethic Coding Template has been modified by VoxxVoleur (Template allows modification) Bio by VoxxVoleur Gijinka of young Kayla |
Discomfort is a precursor to fear and to be feared is to be powerful.
⚔ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
If someone were to explain who this shadow of a dragon is, they might start with how fleeting her existence is.
A flicker of nothing in a world of everything. A hatchling who was not too little, nor too large. Not too loud, not too quiet. Not too bright, not too dark. No odd affinities. No exceptional talent. Nothing that stood apart from the world she hatched into. Perhaps that was what made her special. She was nothing special. Even her clan was nothing special. Just a heap of bones in the land littered with them. A normal Plague clan. They had enemies, they had allies. A ruler, a military, a system that worked like any other. Dragons that worked like any of the others, albeit fitting to the land of their livelihood. Kayla was a hatchling of no coincidence at all. Even her clutch siblings were more than she was. They were twins of different breeds, what were the chances? Perhaps the only thing exceptional about her was that she was not exceptional at all. She had normal parents with a normal family in a normal clan. Later on she would come to know that the clan was not so plain as she thought, but it was like her by then. It was tainted like she was by then. The quiet hatchling grew up squabbling with her brothers, adoring her father, copying her mother, and loving what she would later call ignorance. Fighting with her brothers only to leave pouting would become a distant memory. Lovingly following her father and all that he was only to realize how much being kind hurt pushed her to the point of almost losing a part of herself. Copying her mother only to learn how fleeting life was shattered her. After spending a day at the end of this life, of helping her brothers pack to find their new clans, telling stories like her father’s to anyone who would listen, and sorting new books in her mother’s archives, the Pearlcatcher laid down to rest. Even the summer heat could not permeate down to the rocky archives below the clan. It would be the last day she rested peacefully for what could have been a lifetime. The next, her mother visited the healer’s den and left the clan shortly afterward with a blurred goodbye and unshed tears. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. No strong last words. No ‘I love you,’ or ‘you’ll be fine.’ No burial or closure. No end to this winding pain. Unnoticed to her, Kayla was different from that day on even when the grief of the loss passed. She entered herself in the quiet clan’s ritual questioning in the Queen’s darker chambers, before sunrise the next day. A chilling air met her, soaking into her claws as she took a seat. Embroidered pillows, rippling sheets of silk, gemstones glittering with sunset flames… a knowing gaze cut through the haze of smoke. Staring into the eyes of the Queen with the grin of joker about to play their trump card, Kayla leaned over and whispered nine words. "You don't have a leader of Espionage do you?" It was not a question, nor was it a command. It was only a simple statement of fact with the assumption that Kayla could and would take that position in the clan. That was what the Queen wanted. Usefulness. Kayla’s father was the only exception, in that he helped everyone in the clan. The Queen only blinked. A coy smile crept up her lips and into her eyes, before she left the room. A short question had a shorter answer. “"You can begin your training then.” Veilerris murmured, shutting the door with a click. Kayla did exactly that. She perfected the skills she had picked up on in her childhood. No one noticed her. No one wanted to. If that was the case, if that was truly what needed to be, then by all means, she would use it to her advantage. Blending in with the shadows, sinking deep into the crowd, she hid in the haze of dragons all around. Picking up on details of their lives became second nature. The nuances of others’ speech rolled off with each word as if they were her own. Her mother always did have a knack for learning others’ speech patterns, then again Fae dragons did have a need to at times. Kayla didn’t really mind either. She had always kept tabs on the dragons of her clan. Before she had hoped that they would talk to her, but now she just wanted to learn about them. Everything about them. She could watch them and mimic the whole of their existence; she could become them if she wished. That would happen on numerous occasions, though usually not with them as her spectators personally. That would just be… tasteless. In time, she became a formidable yet invisible foe. She could bring down whole clans without anyone noticing until well after the event had occurred, if they noticed at all. She could not be followed or watched without disappearing. Her words were under her full control. Dragons would know what she wanted them to know, and she would surely hear exactly what she wanted to hear from them. Information gathering and gaining trust came naturally to her. Clans rose and fell around her, and she was the eye of an invisible storm. The Pearlcatcher no one ever knew became the bane, a bad luck charm, an ill omen, to all of the clans that opposed her own. After an endless haze of this repeating chess game, the master of it all slowly lost her grip on the morals that bound her. It was only a little. As rocks are worn by oceans, so too were her reservations towards such dark deeds. For her clan, she would do anything. Her life was but a bargaining chip, her soul the final card. They did not simply require straightforward tasks such as scouting out their enemies. They needed infiltrators and double crossers. They needed someone to get close to leaders of other clans, and then they needed that someone to betray and backstab the one they feigned care, trust, and feelings for. She could do that for them. She would eventually. Other times they would need someone to identify the keystones of a clan, to see which dragons could be removed through a myriad of means she learned from the clan’s enemies. Then, they would need removed. Embargos by other clans would do the trick. Declarations of war by enough clans onto the one was always a safe bet. Mercenaries could be hired as well. Bribery worked when treasure once no issue. Threats towards what those dragons held dear broke even the strongest, as long as they were heroes. Enticing offers to grant their greatest of wishes could be conjured to lure them to her own cause. By the end, it got to the point where sometimes all she needed do was ask. All of the more personal ways worked equally well on those the keystones trusted, and these trusted dragons would just as easily take care of her problems for her. When it came down to it, she always had a couple assassins under her command to take care of anything she found necessary as well. Simply having dragons killed removed any threat they posed, and if she chose the right ones to take out, fear and chaos overthrew clans faster than her clan could have started a war. Her life was spent as someone else. Always a new dragon, always a new name, and always, always in a new place. She changed outfits, her fur, her scales, her look, and more. Her tone, her interests, her quirks, and her story. She swayed to a dance, any dance she could do. She marched with soldiers, then dropped in line with the refugees. Grace laced her voice relaying urgent, yet twisted news to kings and queens whom she wrapped around her clawtips like ribbons. Exhaustion consumed her, collapsing amidst the beggars of Hewn City ragged and forsaken. That was not all either, for she stood among any and all dragon alike. The noble, the estranged, the pious, the twisted, the young, the old, and most importantly all in between any extreme one could think of. Without question, she could pose as a noble or beggar, but more often than not her role was that of a commoner. The stories she told others the least were the most often occurring. Less exciting, that could certainly be said. This was, however, the bread and butter of her work. Lingering in clans of all kinds to see what they had that could be bargained for, through any way that would work for her. Infiltration glorified what she did. First came observation. She was only truly infiltrating when her hosts were already her enemies, or when she had ill intentions to start. All of this would meet its end just as every story comes to a close. Long before her hatching yet easily within a lifetime, the clan of Voiceless Reverence was sentenced to die by fate itself, so it seemed. It is said that it was not even a real clan, at the time that this occurred. An Oracle of the wrong element happened upon the hovel and prophecies unfolded from her mind. Annihilation of a kind Kayla could not fathom, until it unraveled before her eyes. The complete destruction of a clan. She destroyed clans. She did. But not like this. She was a storyteller like her father, but this was one story she could never tell. It started with the sickness, so they said. The one her mother fell to, because she was not the only dragon to fall. Soon after or right before, Kayla’s memory for once failed her in this, other dragons’ lives were taken by a horrid disease. Their nervous systems crashed, bodily control ceased, and it culminated into a very quick death in terms of how long sickness could take to do its work. One of many warning signs of the coming end, and there were many others. And her father just wouldn’t leave the clan, so neither did she. That stupid, loving father just had to stay. It was his home. He was hatched and raised there, though they never found his original family. She did, but she knew he didn’t care to know. It was more for her own curiosity’s sake. Back when she had curiosity. Gods, sometimes she wondered what that felt like, though it was a fleeting thought once she could think again. |
C O N T I N U E D - L O R E
-
There was little else to say for the untold story of the Shade of Voiceless Reverence. The Shade overwhelmed their clan. For months, it kept them in the dark. Buried in the archives underneath the main infrastructure of it all, the remainder of the initial wave clung to hope as everything tore into their minds. The ‘what ifs’ and their denial of escape, any kind of escape. One dragon kept them safe from the Eldritch, yet she also ended the lives of those possessed. She kept it from physically, directly getting to them, but it also kept them from leaving that area too. Kayla watched as all of the dragons she knew, their darkest secrets - truly all of their secrets - and all, were taken by all of the things that could have broken their minds.
By the time that final battle came around, she was so afraid her body would hardly support itself. That was the last time her father held her. That was all she cared to remember.
They buried their dead and in a sense themselves that day, and if that could be said of any one dragon in full honesty, it would be said of Kayla. Far too few lived to flee the forsaken ruins of Voiceless Reverence, and she was among them if only in body. They fled to the edges of the Shadows able to go no further. From there, a guide of that land took them far deeper into the Woods. Deep into the brambles, they dug out shelters well below the surface to bury themselves as well.
Some dragons hurried to do anything needing done, if only to keep themselves able to take another step. Some struggled with their demons, staving them off until either they or their demons succumbed to the other. Some lost their fight and others won. Some fought every day, while others never tried at all. At least one teetered on the edge for a day at a time.
The only fight Kayla bothered to fight was none at all. Her demons were far too busy pulling her apart like the loose threads on a fraying scarf. They pulled so quickly and in so many directions that she went nowhere. Her mind unraveled too quickly for her body to act on it, leaving her mind shattering as her body stilled. She warred with herself endlessly. At times, she wished for her own death. At others, she wanted vengeance. She cursed her father and grieved over her family. She pined over the only place she had ever called home, raging over the sheer loss of life they had suffered.
She refused her old work, yet could not continue without it either.
And so, for a time, she simply fought for control over her mind.
-
Her life was spent in a haze.
She should have known someone would shatter it.
Maybe she should have known that Lyalise would shatter it.
That dragon, she hated that dragon. She was meek yet spined, soft yet unyielding. Kayla still didn’t care about that part, not truly. She just hated how Lyalise’s soft yet firm words poured over her like ice cold water. It was like Lyalise took a needle to her heart with surgical precision and made it beat again.
The noise thundered in her ears as Kayla trembled with a writhing anger, or was it fear? It didn’t matter. It crashed down into sickness, her body convulsing onto the dirt. Her world spun as a mix of what little she had eaten earlier and acid violently expelled itself from her, burning its way out in time with her shuddering. Her body crumpled onto the ground.
She did not dare rise, lest it start again. Her eyes drifted across the brambles of whatever corner of the clan she had hidden in. It looked like the one near the entrance. No one would find her there. Her eyes fell closed, her body stilling save for slow and ragged breaths. The acidic scent was… off putting. Especially so to her churning stomach, as she noticed. She gently turned her head away from the puddle. Her stomach churned once more and she simply breathed with it.
The time she needed to quiet it was time she had to spend painfully aware of her thoughts. There was no distracting her claws with meaningless tasks, her eyes with incomprehensible texts, her body with pacing the shadows where no one saw her. No, she was alone and she even had to think on top of that.
The gall that dragon had, to dare call Kayla… Call Kayla what? What had Lyalise said to her?
…
She couldn't remember.
She was vaguely aware that Lyalise had asked for help, and an oath of loyalty to the clan.
A soft whimper tore itself from her as another wave of nausea threatened to force her body into heaving again.
Do you care that the stomach is, indeed, empty? No? But sire, there is nothing remaining to remove from it. I fear that this course of action may take more effort than is necessary, perhaps a simple warning would do in its place?
…
She pried her eyes open with some difficulty, a shapeless darkness greeting her. Shifting her attention to other senses, she found a chill breeze drifting across her fur and decent bedding underneath her.
Someone had moved her.
How dare they.
The thought flitted across her mind, entering and exiting like air in her lungs. Keeping it there, such a thing was too much effort. Besides, she counted two extra blankets to her left. They had nearly fallen off of her sleeping area, she liked to call it. From a glance, they looked to be the heavier ones many of the clan enjoyed.
Those were gifts very likely from Rhusa, and even Kayla could not direct her anger at such a well meaning dragon. She would have to find someone else to blame. The wretched Skydancer would do.
Yet something pricked at the edge of her senses. Something felt wrong. It didn’t quite click the way it should have, like a piece of a puzzle that almost fit. It could work, she wanted it to work, but no matter how hard she struggled to fit that piece into its place… it didn’t fit. Something in her knew that Lyalise wasn’t foolish enough to have done what Kayla thought she had. Lyalise wouldn’t dare ask Kayla to do what the previous Queen had, or what she had needed, or what Kayla offered, whatever it had been. That demand and Lyalise didn’t go together, they were like oil and water. It could not have been.
Kayla was missing something. She had missed something.
What had Lyalise meant asked her?
There was only one way to find out, and her work could be nothing but the best. Even in personal matters.
-
And so it began. Meetings, plans, and work in preparation that Kayla thoroughly avoided. She stalked the brambled pathways, sliding into the shadows and alternate alleys before she crossed paths with anyone but the one dragon she was looking for. Once she sighted the ghostly pallor of Lyalise in front of the clan’s center, she halted only a sliver away from touching the dragon, though the Skydancer barely moved to glance at her.
“What do you mean, you plan on bringing the clan back there? And leading the clan? Advising isn’t the same as ruling.” Kayla hissed.
“Not there. Somewhere else in the Abiding Boneyard. It’ll be far away from Voiceless Reverence.” Lyalise said smoothly.
“And ruling? As queen?” she heard herself ask, no hysteria, only disbelief.
“You of all of us have seen how the clan has stagnated without a leader,” Lyalise paused, “and without an enemy to fight.”
“Yes, but you…” she growled, eyes narrowing into slits.
“If not me, then who? Everyone else is best suited to the battlefield. Can you imagine them handling politics?”
Lyalise smiled at her in the way only she could, foolish and naive like a hatchling playing with magic it couldn’t even begin to understand. From a child’s eyes, this plan was a good one. It looked like a hatchling trying to help build a whole clan’s lairs. It was a pebble, and it was misplaced in the grand scheme of things at that. Kayla couldn’t help but grin then laugh, chortle even, at the dragon next to her. When she didn’t fake her laughter, it was an odd sound. The laugh was hollow yet rumbling, broken into pieces like overlapping waves trying to reach the shore all at once.
“Exactly. You do understand.” Lyalise’s voice was even, her eyes piercing now.
“I suppose I could understand that part, but surely there’s a better option.” Kayla said slowly.
“Can you think of one, Kayla?”
Now, she tripped and tiptoed through her mind in search of an answer to that. It had never been the same after they had left that clan. Her thoughts once danced to one rhythm, but once the Shade touched her everything whispered and skittered about. Hairline fractures no eye could see criss crossed everything she touched, everything It touched. She could still access everything of course, but it seemed as though something was always whispered down her neck to take a look with her. Her very fur shuddered. Pushing it out of the way, what she searched for crossed her mind. Each dragon flicked by with their pasts, their mannerisms, their values, their deepest secrets, and their favorites socks. That was assuming they liked socks.
“No, I can’t.” Kayla gave a petulant sigh.
They were all warmongers. She supposed Rhusa could be exempt, unless someone had declared a war against anyone being mean while she wasn’t looking. It was a wonder the dragon survived in the Wasteland for as long as she did. Rhusa was positively not queen material. The rest couldn’t keep their weapons sheathed long enough to hear someone say, “Hello.”
Having a hothead rule a clan would be amusing for a moment, but not the most stable of options. Too many heads rolling and diplomacy tended to drop off into war or worse, skirmishes. Those got messy. There were no real leaders, just a dragon with enough boasting to become a bard coupled with a tone that could stop bar fights long enough to turn it into a revolt against the clan. Yes, that fit Briar and Ryukotsusei to a T.
That left them with a handful of bad choices for rulers. Anemone wasn’t as bad as her comrades, but leadership from the throne was no battlefield that Anemone could master. All other dragons who could be suitable left long before or had pledged to other causes before joining the past or current clan.
Lyalise or Kayla then. Only years of practice and a heavy dose of exhaustion kept her nose from crinkling at the thought. Kayla’s place was in the shadows with strings to pull, behind the throne, or far - far away from throne altogether. Placing her on the throne would disarm her, as a painter without paint or a warrior without weapon. The lavish lifestyle wouldn’t be bad of course, but the mere thought of all of the responsibilities threatened a headache. No ruling for her, preferably no serving either.
“Fine,” Kayla hummed. “But you know that you are ill fit to rule, yes?”
“I was hoping you would help with that.”
“I hope you’re ready.”
-
There was little else to say for the untold story of the Shade of Voiceless Reverence. The Shade overwhelmed their clan. For months, it kept them in the dark. Buried in the archives underneath the main infrastructure of it all, the remainder of the initial wave clung to hope as everything tore into their minds. The ‘what ifs’ and their denial of escape, any kind of escape. One dragon kept them safe from the Eldritch, yet she also ended the lives of those possessed. She kept it from physically, directly getting to them, but it also kept them from leaving that area too. Kayla watched as all of the dragons she knew, their darkest secrets - truly all of their secrets - and all, were taken by all of the things that could have broken their minds.
By the time that final battle came around, she was so afraid her body would hardly support itself. That was the last time her father held her. That was all she cared to remember.
They buried their dead and in a sense themselves that day, and if that could be said of any one dragon in full honesty, it would be said of Kayla. Far too few lived to flee the forsaken ruins of Voiceless Reverence, and she was among them if only in body. They fled to the edges of the Shadows able to go no further. From there, a guide of that land took them far deeper into the Woods. Deep into the brambles, they dug out shelters well below the surface to bury themselves as well.
Some dragons hurried to do anything needing done, if only to keep themselves able to take another step. Some struggled with their demons, staving them off until either they or their demons succumbed to the other. Some lost their fight and others won. Some fought every day, while others never tried at all. At least one teetered on the edge for a day at a time.
The only fight Kayla bothered to fight was none at all. Her demons were far too busy pulling her apart like the loose threads on a fraying scarf. They pulled so quickly and in so many directions that she went nowhere. Her mind unraveled too quickly for her body to act on it, leaving her mind shattering as her body stilled. She warred with herself endlessly. At times, she wished for her own death. At others, she wanted vengeance. She cursed her father and grieved over her family. She pined over the only place she had ever called home, raging over the sheer loss of life they had suffered.
She refused her old work, yet could not continue without it either.
And so, for a time, she simply fought for control over her mind.
-
Her life was spent in a haze.
She should have known someone would shatter it.
Maybe she should have known that Lyalise would shatter it.
That dragon, she hated that dragon. She was meek yet spined, soft yet unyielding. Kayla still didn’t care about that part, not truly. She just hated how Lyalise’s soft yet firm words poured over her like ice cold water. It was like Lyalise took a needle to her heart with surgical precision and made it beat again.
The noise thundered in her ears as Kayla trembled with a writhing anger, or was it fear? It didn’t matter. It crashed down into sickness, her body convulsing onto the dirt. Her world spun as a mix of what little she had eaten earlier and acid violently expelled itself from her, burning its way out in time with her shuddering. Her body crumpled onto the ground.
She did not dare rise, lest it start again. Her eyes drifted across the brambles of whatever corner of the clan she had hidden in. It looked like the one near the entrance. No one would find her there. Her eyes fell closed, her body stilling save for slow and ragged breaths. The acidic scent was… off putting. Especially so to her churning stomach, as she noticed. She gently turned her head away from the puddle. Her stomach churned once more and she simply breathed with it.
The time she needed to quiet it was time she had to spend painfully aware of her thoughts. There was no distracting her claws with meaningless tasks, her eyes with incomprehensible texts, her body with pacing the shadows where no one saw her. No, she was alone and she even had to think on top of that.
The gall that dragon had, to dare call Kayla… Call Kayla what? What had Lyalise said to her?
…
She couldn't remember.
She was vaguely aware that Lyalise had asked for help, and an oath of loyalty to the clan.
A soft whimper tore itself from her as another wave of nausea threatened to force her body into heaving again.
Do you care that the stomach is, indeed, empty? No? But sire, there is nothing remaining to remove from it. I fear that this course of action may take more effort than is necessary, perhaps a simple warning would do in its place?
…
She pried her eyes open with some difficulty, a shapeless darkness greeting her. Shifting her attention to other senses, she found a chill breeze drifting across her fur and decent bedding underneath her.
Someone had moved her.
How dare they.
The thought flitted across her mind, entering and exiting like air in her lungs. Keeping it there, such a thing was too much effort. Besides, she counted two extra blankets to her left. They had nearly fallen off of her sleeping area, she liked to call it. From a glance, they looked to be the heavier ones many of the clan enjoyed.
Those were gifts very likely from Rhusa, and even Kayla could not direct her anger at such a well meaning dragon. She would have to find someone else to blame. The wretched Skydancer would do.
Yet something pricked at the edge of her senses. Something felt wrong. It didn’t quite click the way it should have, like a piece of a puzzle that almost fit. It could work, she wanted it to work, but no matter how hard she struggled to fit that piece into its place… it didn’t fit. Something in her knew that Lyalise wasn’t foolish enough to have done what Kayla thought she had. Lyalise wouldn’t dare ask Kayla to do what the previous Queen had, or what she had needed, or what Kayla offered, whatever it had been. That demand and Lyalise didn’t go together, they were like oil and water. It could not have been.
Kayla was missing something. She had missed something.
What had Lyalise meant asked her?
There was only one way to find out, and her work could be nothing but the best. Even in personal matters.
-
And so it began. Meetings, plans, and work in preparation that Kayla thoroughly avoided. She stalked the brambled pathways, sliding into the shadows and alternate alleys before she crossed paths with anyone but the one dragon she was looking for. Once she sighted the ghostly pallor of Lyalise in front of the clan’s center, she halted only a sliver away from touching the dragon, though the Skydancer barely moved to glance at her.
“What do you mean, you plan on bringing the clan back there? And leading the clan? Advising isn’t the same as ruling.” Kayla hissed.
“Not there. Somewhere else in the Abiding Boneyard. It’ll be far away from Voiceless Reverence.” Lyalise said smoothly.
“And ruling? As queen?” she heard herself ask, no hysteria, only disbelief.
“You of all of us have seen how the clan has stagnated without a leader,” Lyalise paused, “and without an enemy to fight.”
“Yes, but you…” she growled, eyes narrowing into slits.
“If not me, then who? Everyone else is best suited to the battlefield. Can you imagine them handling politics?”
Lyalise smiled at her in the way only she could, foolish and naive like a hatchling playing with magic it couldn’t even begin to understand. From a child’s eyes, this plan was a good one. It looked like a hatchling trying to help build a whole clan’s lairs. It was a pebble, and it was misplaced in the grand scheme of things at that. Kayla couldn’t help but grin then laugh, chortle even, at the dragon next to her. When she didn’t fake her laughter, it was an odd sound. The laugh was hollow yet rumbling, broken into pieces like overlapping waves trying to reach the shore all at once.
“Exactly. You do understand.” Lyalise’s voice was even, her eyes piercing now.
“I suppose I could understand that part, but surely there’s a better option.” Kayla said slowly.
“Can you think of one, Kayla?”
Now, she tripped and tiptoed through her mind in search of an answer to that. It had never been the same after they had left that clan. Her thoughts once danced to one rhythm, but once the Shade touched her everything whispered and skittered about. Hairline fractures no eye could see criss crossed everything she touched, everything It touched. She could still access everything of course, but it seemed as though something was always whispered down her neck to take a look with her. Her very fur shuddered. Pushing it out of the way, what she searched for crossed her mind. Each dragon flicked by with their pasts, their mannerisms, their values, their deepest secrets, and their favorites socks. That was assuming they liked socks.
“No, I can’t.” Kayla gave a petulant sigh.
They were all warmongers. She supposed Rhusa could be exempt, unless someone had declared a war against anyone being mean while she wasn’t looking. It was a wonder the dragon survived in the Wasteland for as long as she did. Rhusa was positively not queen material. The rest couldn’t keep their weapons sheathed long enough to hear someone say, “Hello.”
Having a hothead rule a clan would be amusing for a moment, but not the most stable of options. Too many heads rolling and diplomacy tended to drop off into war or worse, skirmishes. Those got messy. There were no real leaders, just a dragon with enough boasting to become a bard coupled with a tone that could stop bar fights long enough to turn it into a revolt against the clan. Yes, that fit Briar and Ryukotsusei to a T.
That left them with a handful of bad choices for rulers. Anemone wasn’t as bad as her comrades, but leadership from the throne was no battlefield that Anemone could master. All other dragons who could be suitable left long before or had pledged to other causes before joining the past or current clan.
Lyalise or Kayla then. Only years of practice and a heavy dose of exhaustion kept her nose from crinkling at the thought. Kayla’s place was in the shadows with strings to pull, behind the throne, or far - far away from throne altogether. Placing her on the throne would disarm her, as a painter without paint or a warrior without weapon. The lavish lifestyle wouldn’t be bad of course, but the mere thought of all of the responsibilities threatened a headache. No ruling for her, preferably no serving either.
“Fine,” Kayla hummed. “But you know that you are ill fit to rule, yes?”
“I was hoping you would help with that.”
“I hope you’re ready.”
A R T
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Due to a coding break, Kayla's bio was once completely erased. All art with known artists are clickable, linking back to shops or profile pages. Payment will be given to anyone able to find the artists of any pieces without credit.
Lady K's character, persona, and appearance are ever changing. Her art aims to be just as varied, including versions of her from her youth to present as well as examples of roles she's taken on. Her dragon art shows her previous outfits, while her gijinka art tends to highlight alterations she can make to herself for her work.
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Due to a coding break, Kayla's bio was once completely erased. All art with known artists are clickable, linking back to shops or profile pages. Payment will be given to anyone able to find the artists of any pieces without credit.
Lady K's character, persona, and appearance are ever changing. Her art aims to be just as varied, including versions of her from her youth to present as well as examples of roles she's taken on. Her dragon art shows her previous outfits, while her gijinka art tends to highlight alterations she can make to herself for her work.
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