Xyndric

O.I.P(Overhaul in progress)

Idea: Studies alchemy on the side, but treats it as an amateurish hobby. As evidenced by his overall intelligence the talent is there, but he has not developed enough of an interest to truly master the skill.

Xyndric was an intelligent dragon even from the beginning moments of his hatching, born with a powerful mind that was soaked with the very essence of fire. Very early in his life he had a mastery of flame that almost completely overshadowed that of his similarly aged friends and siblings.

It was not even being stronger than his peers that drove him. The sheer majesty of the power that slept deep within him mesmerised him. He had a fierce curiosity for all things of power and magic, playing with flame at the tips of his claws just to watch its beautiful glow flickering in the dark. Strength in itself was beautiful to him, in whatever form it took in the magical world.

Xyndric had all the makings to become a unparalleled mage of fire and fury.

Until it was all stolen away from him.

The dark, fiery crimson eyes of this dragon hold a strange dullness to them if any were to see him now. They do not glow with the inner strength of a magical ability, but are dimmed and dull. Xyndric’s eyes almost look as though his soul has left them-empty as though he were a corpse.

Before Xyndric had even exited the stages of hatchling-hood, his precious ability suddenly and abruptly vanished as if it had been taken by a thief in the night. By the next morning, he wasn't even capable of creating a spark.

Xyndric still remembers that morning with a intense longing that has yet to diminish. He woke from sleep feeling a depressing emptiness gnawing at his soul. The air was frigid, and Xyndric had at first began to rationalize that he had simply suffered a fitful sleep. Shivering, he tried to cough a small wisp of flame to warm himself.

Nothing more than tepid air fled his throat.

That's not right were the first words to cross his mind. Quickly, he tried again- to no further result. He began to panic and tried to set something, anything on fire. Yet not even a streak of smoke was left on anything he had touched.

Xyndric spent the rest of the morning fighting frantically to reawaken it. He had even searched for hours on end, his young mind somehow believing he might be able to find it as though it had simply fallen out of him. To some dismay of his parents, he skipped some meals concentrating in place as though it were simply trapped in his mind.

Xyndric had begun to wonder why his parents had not even asked him what had been ailing him to act so strange. Until his father nudged his shoulder the next day before Xyndric even had time to begin the cycle anew. He then spoke a string of words that burn in his memory even now, "Xyndric, my son, there is something you need to see."

His father lead him to a still pool of clear water, instruting Xyndric to look into the reflection.

Dead eyes stared back at him and he stumbled in fright. It was then he finally understood, if only just, what he had suffered. His ability had been torn from him, stolen. Now he felt little more than simple flesh and bone.

The other magically inclined that he stood by began to discount him. They never truly abandoned him, but they began to call him incomplete and . They began to think of him as frail, they considered him disabled.

He soon came to realize that the possession of magical might did not make him strong. There were hundreds, thousands of dragons in existence around him that could command magic just as he used to. Some were strong. Some were mind numbingly powerful.

Some were not. Yet they all, at least most, could command elemental energies. Xyndric watched them. What made them different? What was it that could make two brothers of the same egg clutch have such vast gaps in power?

Magic in itself could not make him strong. He could have all the power in the world and it would not help him any if he did not practice it- if he did not train it.

If magic in itself was not synonymous with strength, then the lack of magic in itself could not make him weak. He still had one of the most mysterious energies in it's purest form within him. Life itself. Xyndric was healthy. There were other ways to be strong.

With this revelation he soon decided that if he could not be a powerful sorceror, he would be a sharp-clawed warrior without equal. He would train himself until his muscle tore and hide bled. He would fight, he would persevere.

A dragon without links to some magic is out of place, disadvantaged. He will not be overshadowed and he will not be forgotten.




To compensate for this certain downfall Xyndric fights, tooth and claw, with ferocious efficiency. He trains himself vigorously to be a nimble warrior without parallel. A dragon without links to a magic is out of place, disadvantaged. Xyndric has little other option to excel in strength lest he be overshadowed and forgotten.

---

One of the longest to live within Lynx's clan, he had perhaps been one of the first the first to hold one of the more unusual, or perhaps just unexplainable, introductions into it. As a hatchling, he had been found unconcious in one of the more obscure crevices of where his clan resides. He had awoken in fear, having no memory of how he had come to be here, or where he had originated from, save for his name. He believes to have traveled through some unknown network of caves, only to collapse from both exhaustion and starvation. To this reason he values his familiar more than any offer of gold or other such treasures, because he does not remember (though there isn't much to his memory of the past to begin with) ever arriving to the surface, he believes his Cave Jewel to be the only one that could have saved his life.

To any that do not yet know him, his physical appearance alone is enough to discover that he is a peculiarity among others of his breed; his onyx-black claws are abnormally strong, and his supple muscles hold a remarkable strength. A strength often thought to rival a guardian's by clanmates among him, but not without a cost. Xyndric will never even attempt to immerse himself in the effort of strengthening his magical power. In truth, he possesses no magical ability whatsoever.

Despite his inclination to close combat, and that he does enjoy its thrill, he himself is quiet, and usually will not speak unless he feels he must. He has lived in fear much throughout his first years, often disappearing from sight until those within the clan would doubt his return, but always they were proven wrong. Consequently, he is known to be silent, and thought to be of a more shy nature, always to stalk the shadows, never to become more than he always has been; but some have begun to believe his silence is more deceptive than any are to expect. He is mated to Nurai, self-proclaimed and unchallenged leader and ruler of the clan, the one that has thrown Lynx aside, controlled him. The strongest warrior many in the clan have ever encountered, he himself is uncontested in battle, seldom to fall, never to admit defeat. His true nature is beyond obscure; few trust him completely, his heart could hold a lust for power capable of pushing him to destroy any obstacles in its path. Incredibly patient, his silence may not only be a personality, but a strategy; watching the world, always searching for any weakness, waiting for time itself to allow him an opportunity.

And soon it shall, what he does then may finally reveal the truth of himself.