Ghost

He was always the problematic one. In the nest, his egg kept freezing over, even though it was already frozen. As a hatchling, any dragon he attempted to touch would immediately jump away, yelping at how cold he was. It wasn't until when he was an adult, looking into the sympathetic eyes of a seer, that he learned that his body measured the temperature of space. And so he wandered the Ashfall Waste, always shaking off the frozen grime that accumulated on his limbs ever so quickly, always afraid that any small exhale of his could freeze an entire clan of faes. He was so lonely, and the lava would not provide any much-needed warmth.

Until he met his home.

It came to him in the form of two powerful mages, one arcane, one fire. The fire mage took pity on him, convincing the arcane mage to conjure a permanent charm that would raise his body temperature to be more normal. They succeeded, mostly. He was now the temperature of the Southern Icefields. But after he followed them home to the Southern Icefields, he discovered that nothing froze to him. Dragons were even willing to touch him, to embrace him! He was no longer the Ghost he had been named to be. He had been found.