Diminuel

An upstanding dragon turned..strange?
She'd always been seen as a good member of their clan, sufficient and likeable. However, what made her turn for the worse?
Always unseen and not particularly outstanding, she'd been carrying the weight of her own disappointment, always feeling like she'd been inside herself, trapped in a box she had no control over.

She'd undressed and refused to wear the apparel of her earlier profession, and went about the clan, lost and mostly seen caught up in her own thoughts.
The turning point for her was the lack of response she gained from those around her. Despite feeling like less of herself than ever, no one questioned it, no one even seemed to notice.
Had she always been this bland?

She'd been walking on the edge of doing something impulsive, something drastic, for a long time.
The voice of Flaurance, the ..eccentric ridgeback, made the impulsiveness flourish like a lightning bolt under clear skies.
"Flaurance," she called, and he stopped to great her, his little dog yapping at the top of its lungs.
"I need you to dress me in the most outlandish outfit you have, contrast and creativity, I need something colourful!" She yelled almost desperately, looking at him in the hopes that he could change her. He met her eyes, and must've seen something there, because he nodded determinedly and guided her quickly into his apparel shop.

He found a bunch of pretty silks, similar to the ones she used to own, but in a golden, ember colour, in spark contrast with her dimmed blues.
"I'd like to try something, chin up face forward." Flaurance planted several ornaments around her neck, and the put on what seemed like a smoking mask.
She held her breath, but he nudged her right and left to put it in place properly. "It's not toxic," he said.
Diminuel tapped her feet, and felt a gnawing inside her, ready to be let out. It was a strange sensation, almost like something wanted to tear out of her skin, burst into flames and perhaps burn her in the process.

"Now, this will be my most extravagant outfit in a while," he grinned, his eyes glowing with pride.
On the top of her head, on top of the smoky mask, he put a couple of strange goggles. They felt tight, but didn't hurt.
She could see out of the holes in the mask, but it wasn't claustrophobic, despite having almost all of her face covered.
Flaurance disappeared from view, and she could feel something being twined around her tail. She concentrated on keeping it still.
She breathed heavily, and with every breath, the non-scented smoke emerged. Flaurance appeared in front of her again.
"Diminuel, may I present to you," he grinned, twirling a huge mirror around the room, placing it in front of her with an overly-exaggerated bow. "-the new and spiced you! A living contrast! colorspeck, with an outfit I'd like to call-" she looked at herself, and felt the buzzing of her skin reach the surface. "Wind-chime Shaman!"

She shook her head to shake loose the tingling feelings of her skin. The silks embraced her comfortably, and the constant rush of smoke felt like a new breath of air.
"You like?" Flaurance smiled.
Diminuel grinned back.
She shook her tail and stomped her feet. It felt marvelous to let loose.
"I'll pay you back," she said, her voice echoed a little, but she liked the effect. Flaurance trusted her with that, and let her walk into the sun with her new attire.
The sun felt good, and the buzzing had reached her outer skin, she wanted to yell aloud to those around. Look at me, she'd say. I am no longer myself, and it feels great! Notice my flaws and my being, I am brightened!

Her head felt more open than it had in a long while, and with every inhale she could feel the smoke running around in her mind, awakening what had previously been in slumber.
Hitting the autopilot button until it broke, turning on every light and overrunning every corner, dust and grey walls turning bright and new.
Her mind had space, she felt vibrant.
A new breath in, the clear smoke settling in her lungs like sunshine itself.

"I am the wind shaman. I bring new life to the dead and apathetic," she growled in joy.
Unbeknownst of the puzzling looks she got from those around her, she laughed freely, spread her wings and started flying.
Flying and flying, twirling until the smoke laid as a clear map in the sky, following her new route as she awakened what had been dead and locked away.


Transcended into a new existence, it was believed that the mask contained hallucinogenic properties. It might, it might not. Flaurance could not attest to haven given her anything, but he did say it contained a stronger magical reading than his other apparel. He believed it was needed to make smoke emerge from it.
Diminuel had not come down from her travels in the sky, flying to and fro like a joyful bird in spring.
However, during the second week of her mantras, she struck down hard into the ground. Flaurance immediately ran to her, worried for her well-being. What met him was a pair of almost painfully glowing eyes through the holes in the mask.

She held her head high, but continuously with the echoes of a joyful smile.
"Diminuel.. Are you alright?" Flaurance asked her, the smoke billowing out through her mouth and nostrils.
She barely bowed her head, and looked him in the eyes.
"I've never been better."