Dewayne

Exiled from his home in the Viridian Labyrinth for trampling somebody's flowers, Dewayne often thinks about attempting to go back to his old clan. However, he just can't shake the feeling that if he did leave, conflict between a couple of the clan members would tear the clan to bits, and so he's stayed.

Rumors abound that he may actually be the lost prince of some far-off nature clan, but these have not been proven true. Dewayne has never even acknowledged these rumours, and additionally refuses to divulge which clan he originally hails from. He won't ever let that crown leave his head though, and that blade of his is quite ornate, so those rumours aren't completely without precedence.

Dewayne is often scorned for not pulling his weight around the clan, but it's his opinion that his role as peacekeeper is just under appreciated. Normally softspoken, when he has to raise his voice dragons listen, and thus he has staved off many a fight in the clan. (Most of which involve Levant or Sirene.) Many dragons might not take anything he says to heart, but it can't be denied that if your actions force Dewayne to get involved nobody will be taking your side.

Unfortunately, Dewayne can't be everywhere at once, and as such conflicts rage on. Even so, he still takes it upon himself to try speaking to feuding dragons and possibly resolve their problems. Quite often this will just get him and his dumb crown insulted, but if this bothers the skydancer, he has yet to show it. Dewayne is truly a patient and understanding dragon, to the point where he can't understand why some dragons like fighting so much. He might be a skydancer who can sense emotions and has taken the time to learn how to read fae crests, but that doesn't mean he knows why other dragons feel the way they do. Honestly, emotions are kind of overrated as far as he's concerned. They've caused him nothing but trouble.

He paints as a hobby, and his pictures of what many assume to be his home in the Viridian Labyrinth are quite beautiful. The monsters smashing the painted lairs to bits are also quite beautiful, if possibly out of place. But considering the sadistic expression that replaces his normally serene one when he's painting said abominations, nobody's really felt like questioning why they're there. It's not helped by the strange fae who turned up one day and likes to watch Dewayne paint. He doesn't like the attention, and some of his irritation towards the fae definitely bleeds into his work. Not that his art wouldn't be likely to depict at least a bit of bleeding regardless.

Dewayne spends a lot of treasure on a certain rare flower that reminds him of home. It may or not be illegal to remove said flower from the Gladekeeper's realm. Nobody can be certain, as nature dragons are oddly forceful about denying its existence. ...Which is rather confusing when you happen to be waving the plant directly under their nose.

Ever since Scáthach arrived at the clan, Dewayne has been attempting to convince her to set up a massive garden on the roof of the fortress. Of course, she fervently denies that such a thing is within her capabilities, despite all evidence to the contrary. Instead, he's had to settle for a small atrium, nicely furnished with his paintings and Karigan's tapestries, along with a small stage for Kepriel to perform above. It's usually the most peaceful place on the island, with the exception of when angry clan members are slinging spells at each other in the middle of it. It's a very dramatic local, you see. Great for fighting.

---

It was his purpose, they'd said. All those years of diplomatic training were for this, they'd said. One alliance that would make everyone very rich. They'd shown him some flowers. Rare. Expensive. Powerful. Soon he could have as many as he wanted, they'd promised.

Could they not see? Realize what they were trading away to pile in their personal hoards? How the whole clan would soon suffer for this temporary gain? He ground the flowers into the dirt beneath his claw. They wanted flowers? He could get them flowers. So many flowers. They didn't need to tear the ground beneath the clan asunder, to destroy the river and the trees. They just had to listen to him.

But dragons blinded by wealth were the worst listeners of all.

---

[...]

"He's much too young!", complained Belanoir.

"He isn't even arcane!", said Ustasi.

"I don't even know who he is!", added Kaito.

Dewayne shook his head at the group of protesting dragons. While it was quite the impressive feat to have more than three of this clan's dragons agreeing about something, Silas had won the election fairly, and there was no point in protesting before the fae had even done anything to get upset about. Nobody had sunk to violence yet, but with all the arcane dragons here somebody was going to start slinging spells before long.

"Let's all just calm down and sort things out peacefully, okay?", Dewayne said, projecting his voice as much as he could without yelling.

Not one dragon even pretended to listen.

"Look, nothing's going to change massively around here, and I'm sure Silas will be a fine leader," he continued.

The throng of dragons continued screeching at whoever would listen, which was nobody. Dewayne hissed.

"Everybody shut up and listen to me!", he snapped.

That got their attention, and nine pairs of eyes turned to look at Dewayne, along with one set of four. He stood tall and regal, his crown of golden leaves and the intense look on his face commanding their attention.

"I understand that having a change in leadership can be worrying, but the lot of you are acting like this the Arcanist's fourth apocalypse. But while none of you voted for him, the rest of the clan at least thinks–," said Dewayne.

At this, most of the assembled dragons began looking rather sheepish, a strong contender for least dragony expression possible.

Dewayne struggled to not throttle someone. Instead, he calmly asked, "Okay, claws up. How many of you voted for Silas?"

Nine out of ten dragons awkwardly raised an arm. Dewayne let out an exasperated sigh that could probably be heard all across Sornieth.

"Okay, so if most of you voted for him, then why are any of you complaining?", he asked, his annoyance barely stifled in his voice.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but if he's going to make any changes it'll get in the way of what I do," Delyth said.

"I'm thankful for the work he's done for the clan, and I wanted to show my support. But I don't want him to be leader, just, you know, somebody who gets all the work done but isn't the leader," suggested Bozatrox.

"They should have said it was an actual election! I thought everyone was merely running as a joke because Invernale's always been the leader!", Jacques said.

"And you?" Dewayne continued, looking at the one dragon who didn't raise a claw. He wasn't even going to bother informing Jacques that Kushiel was the current leader, and had been for quite some time.

"I still have no idea who Silas even is!", repeated Kaito.

"Did you even try to figure out who he was?", asked Dewayne.

"No..."

"Well there you go."

Dewayne turned back to the rest of the dragons, who were beginning to look as if they just wanted to go back to their lairs and pretend they'd never been here in the first place. He cleared his throat, and then tried to put as gentle an expression on his face as was possible for a dragon.

"Be at ease everyone, the fortress isn't going to burn to the ground now that Silas is leader. And if it was to, from what I've seen of him he'd do his best to put it out with his own claws. He won't be a tyrant, nor completely incompetent, and he isn't repealing the council, so you won't have to worry about your voices not being heard. So let's just look towards the future and embrace change, as is the arcane way, okay?", he said.

The was a murmur of assent, or at the very least that noise you make when you want somebody to stop embarrassing you even further. That was enough for Dewayne, who waited patiently until the other dragons dispersed, clearling the hallway and finally allowing him into the dining hall so he could have some well deserved lunch.

Now, all he had to do was figure out why Silas had suddenly gotten cold feet and was pretending he hadn't even ran for the position, and then the clan would be at peace again.

But first – a nice fresh salad.
[...]