Mourn

Mourn The Warrior

Escaping the rather intimidating duo of Naliya and Helios, you leap into the sky and flutter back onto the main path, pausing to gain your bearings, With sudden decisiveness, you spin around quickly, only to smack directly into a large… Guardian? It’s scales and thick and gnarled, swirling in unnatural patterns. It has two branching white antlers, contrasting with the murky green and blue scales across the rest of it’s skin. Frankly, you cannot be sure this is actually a Guardian dragon. Starting at your touch, the creature gives a half growl and leaps back, shrinking down as if to hide behind a heavily armored Wildclaw. The Wildclaw clicks their talons on the ground, makes several quick motions with their front paws to the Guardian creature, then turns to you and offers a small booklet with writing scribbled across it. ”This is Mourn, my mate, and I am Echo. She cannot speak common draconic and I am deaf, but she says hello. Don’t be afraid, you simply startled her."

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Origins

Mourn's life began in the Windswept Plateau, specifically in a border clan that worked tirelessly to train soldiers for dominance. Mourn, already slated to be a warrior, trained hard from her time as a hatchling and made a name for herself as a skilled fighter. She rose in the ranks of her army, but always felt dimly like she didn't belong. She was a Guardian with no charge, and even as she grew older she didn't feel the pull of a Search. Frustrated, Mourn eventually left the Windswept Plateau in hopes of pushing the Search to begin. For months Mourn traveled to and fro across the land, enjoying the benefits of other clans trying to assist her; she found a natural trust in others, though it would eventually be her downfall. A group of dragons wanted to create a weapon, something that could easily win dominance and fight in the coliseum all under their control, but to do that they needed something… unnatural. With careful planning, the cunning dragons lured naive Mourn into their clan, using dark magic to transform her into the monster she is today, nothing more than a faded echo of a Guardian dragon. Mourn was fractured beyond recognition, her body physically twisted and reformed with gnarled scales and unnatural horns. Her mind was also riddled with scars; she struggled to speak basic draconic, her memory was faltering at best, and her trust was utterly shattered. She often found herself wanting to escape, claw her way out and disappear into the landscape, away from her captors. She was no longer a dragon, and these creatures--these dragons--were the enemy. She was broken.

For months after her initial transformation, Mourn did nothing but her namesake. She wept for her own loss, felt the pain rip through her at all hours of the endless days, yet could not find it in herself to fight her way free. Then, eventually, sorrow gave way to anger, and Mourn began to fight. Despite the scars it earned her, Mourn made escape attempt after escape attempt, slowly chipping away at her captors defenses. After a particularly brutal fight she did break free, mauling any and all that threatened to stand in her way before escaping deep into the wastelands to hide away. She still lurked about, sometimes even seen by local dragons out in the distance before she quickly fled the scene. Eventually, she found herself in the Shifting Expanse, hoping that her monstrous nature would be ignored by the dragons there. Mourn simply wandered the desert she came upon the Galestorm Flyers, and began to bring the clan bits of food, interesting objects, or other small gifts. Like a feral cat, Mourn found herself welcomed into the folds of the Flyers, set to work with the warrior Echo. Overtime the two became close, working together seamlessly as trust grew between them, blossoming into a romance. By the time the Flyers were set to move to the Windswept Plateau, Mourn was beginning to open up, finding herself more at ease amongst the Flyers with Echo by her side. Though she still feared returning to the lands that first imprisoned her, Mourn was unwilling to leave Echo’s side and decided to do something she hadn’t in a long time: take a chance. With the mindset of a fresh start, Mourn has settled back into the Windswept Plateau with greater ease than she expected, enjoying the freedom the community offers as she heals from long ago traumas.

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Personality

Lesbian Genderqueer

Once, long ago, Mourn was a trusting creature. Sweet tempered and endlessly curious, Mourn saw the light in everyone, her eyes unwarped by the evils of the world. However, the trauma she suffered at malicious warlocks’ paws tainted her, broke her in a fundamental way. No longer would she chirp greetings and soft hellos to strangers, no longer would she trust herself to care for her future charge, no longer would she feel safe among other dragons. Now, she is skittish and fearful, untrusting of strangers and unable to communicate in common draconic. Though part of the Galestorm Flyers, she sticks to the outer edges of the clans, rarely venturing into the Platforms. Though she has lost faith in the world, she has not lost hope, not completely at least. She hopes to heal, and works to do so, slowly entering the lair and communicating with her clanmates more and more often, working to undo the damage to her mind as she learns to live with the damage to her body. She clings to an image of a day she can enter the lair and feel safe.

If there is one thing Mourn can say with certainly, it is that she is not alone. She has friends, a wife, and a charge at long last. Ascelin, stubbornly lonely but intelligent and kind, is a friend despite his protests. They speak little, preferring to show affection with actions, but there is a friendship there nonetheless, nursed in the quiet of the apothecary’s lab. Then there is Naliya, who lost everything and came back from it, a friend in a different sense. Naliya inspires hope in Mourn. And then there is Echo, in all her glory. Echo has been the riptide to Mourn, a hidden danger that tugged her far from her comfort zone and forced her to swim. Echo, fierce and unyielding to forces of nature that try to bend her to their will, yet signs gentle words of love and tucks herself firmly underneath the Guardian’s gnarled wings. They guard each other, watch the other’s back on the battlefield and cover their blindspots without hesitation. Echo stands beside Mourn against any enemy, both on the battlefield and in her mind. It was actually Echo who realized Mourn’s charge, not long after the two became romantically involved: herself. It made sense, Mourn feared for her charge when she was in danger, yet felt no fear when she was somewhere safe despite not having her charge present, or so she thought. When Echo suggested it, Mourn sobbed, some fractured part of her psyche mending it’s tattered edges just a bit.

Echo: Wife Ascelin: Friend Naliya: Friend

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There was nothing special about that day.

The wind still blew steadily across the steppe, pressing grass flat against the ground in periodical waves, blowing cascades of dried blades free from their confines. Birds still fluttered about the sky, avoiding the dangerous galeforce winds of the Crescendo. Distantly, there was the sound of the bustling market, which had opened earlier in the day as it always did. The Platforms descended at noon as they always did, docking firmly on the ground to allow landbound dragons entry and exit. There were no special banners strung about the conglomeration of floating islands, no cheerful decorations that would signal a celebration. There was no feast cooking in the bustling kitchen of Dew, no busybody movements of artisans. It was all normal, utterly and perfectly normal.

Mourn never wanted to forget it.

Standing some yards away from the motley crew of dragons disembarking from the Platforms, the gnarled Guardian took a moment to watch. Her one pale green eye flittered from point to point, resting on the Mirror pack, then the overburdened form of Monarch, then the twisting body of Merlot, then then elegant motions of Zandrys, then--. She needed to stop. She needed to calm down.

Closing her eye, Mourn took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air breeze through her throat into twisted lungs, wheezing slightly but taking in air nonetheless. She held it, taking stock of her limbs, scarred but still so good. The scars across her shoulders itched, but she did not scratch it. Slowly, she breathed out, casting the warmed air from her lungs in a soft growling. Opening her eye once more, Mourn focused on one thing: a small cat with a flower pinned to it’s ear. A smile stretched over her lips, looking more like a snarl but it didn’t matter. It didn’t.

Mourn felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to see Echo watching her with patient eyes. The Wildclaw shifted to show her hands, quickly making familiar motions of sign.

‘Are you ready?’

It was a normal day for everyone but Mourn.

‘I want to be,’ Mourn signed back, shifting her weight to her haunches as she did. Echo nodded, nudging her side affectionately, then moved to take the lead.

Echo had explored the Platforms before, so she walked forward with confidence. The stream of dragons stepping onto and off of the Galestorm Flyers’ lair did not part for her, acknowledging her presence but granting her no immunity to the tide's directions. Mourn followed closely, trying to tuck herself impossibly closer to her wife as she pulled her limbs in, attempting to avoid any and all touch from other dragons. Inamu brushed her shoulder slightly, and she jerked from his touch, catching his gaze long enough for him to murmur a gentle apology and shift out of her way.

It was several painstaking minutes later that Mourn was finally free of the crowd again, no longer needing to tuck in on herself like a scared turtle. The entry to the Platforms had cleared, those who needed to get on and off immediately having done so, leaving only the dregs of dragons lingering about. To her right--her blindside, danger danger no--was a pale Pearlcatcher attempting to tune a lute with some metallic device; his name slipped her mind, but Mourn knew she had met him before, often. Fear was overriding her again.

“Echo, Mourn.” That voice was familiar, and Mourn snapped her attention to it, reaching out to intertwine her tail with Echo’s and stop the Wildclaw in her tracks. Pausing, Echo glanced at Mourn then followed her gaze, perking up slightly at the familiar face.

‘Ascelin,’ Echo signed, letting off a slightly too loud chirp in greeting, ‘Hello!’

“I had hoped to catch you today,” Ascelin said from his point in the shade, sitting back so he could sign as he spoke, “I have something for you.”

Mourn tilted her head slightly, but made no move to approach, instead warily eyeing the vampiric Skydancer as he reached into his bag and removed a small vial. Tossing it their way, Ascelin tucked his bag back onto his side with a smirk.

“It is a tonic to help with sleep,” Ascelin explained, signing his words again as Echo looked up from her examination of the vial, “I know you struggle with that.”

‘Thank you,' Mourn replied silently, tucking the vial among the folds of her shawl. There was a creak from behind her, and it took all of her effort not to whirl around and flee or fight whatever had made that noise. Tensing, Mourn forced herself to wait one, two, three agonizing seconds before forcibly relaxing her muscles and twisting her head to gaze at the source of the noise.

Lief, sitting atop a bamboo post with his sickle forepaws embedded deep in the green fibers, looking pleased with himself and the small gem he gripped in his mouth. Not a danger, not a threat. Not a danger, not a threat. She was safe.

“Monarch was saying he always likes to knick things,” Ascelin said as he watched her reaction. Mourn nodded jerkily in response, leaning into the gentle touch Echo offered her.

Mourn watched Lief for several long moments, staring at his sleek caramel fur as he scrabbled to free himself without dropping the gem. He made small chittering noises, but fell silent as another sound graced their ears, a familiar jingling jog. Moments later, Monarch rounded the corner, still half covered in overly full bags of scrapped supplies. With a sigh, Monarch reached her Kamitachi companion and pried the gem from his mouth, then freed him from his self imposed prison and carried him safely away. Mourn said not a word to the Wildclaw as she came and went, just watched.

The gentle tap of Echo on her shoulder was enough to draw Mourn from her trance, and she turned to look at her wife as she quickly signed a question.

‘Shall we leave now?’

Mourn knew they were welcome to stay, knew that not even Serezha would complain of their presence, but the itch on her scar had grown unbearable. A quick nod was all it took, and they were off, leaving Ascelin in his shaded corner without a word goodbye. Then hurried back down the Platforms dock, Mourn speeding their pace and nearly overtaking Echo in her eagerness to be free of this pressure. Launching themselves into the sky, they fluttered back to their outpost, perching high in the nest and curling into each other.

Settled in her nest of safety, Mourn watched Echo sign soft words of love to her, which soon morphed into some fairytale Grimm had allowed the warrior to read a few days ago. Mourn was sure it was badly paraphrased, but it made her smile, made her relax slowly, inch by inch.

This was safe, it always had been. Even when it had felt terrifying, it was safe. Echo meant her no harm, she never had, not even when they first met and Mourn was nothing more than a skittering shadow that left the occasional frayed wire and smoked lizard on her lair doorstep. They were here now, safe in the knowledge of safety. How incredible it was to know that now, to know that Echo was more likely to die than hurt Mourn. Echo, who constantly lost her hood and complained about it, despite Mourn having collected nearly twenty as cautionary replacements. Echo, who was so incredibly bad at poker that she had been banned from entering the lair when it was being played. Echo, who failed to catch fireflies and instead set fire to twigs and called them fireworms. Echo was safe, and that was incredible.

One day, the Flyers too would be safe.