Morva

Morva, the Wanderer

Where did he come from? That's a question he couldn't answer. He swore he hatched one day, alone, in a forgotten land. He had lived long, and travelled much. He was cursed to be lonely and forgotten his whole life. His name? It was lost.

Who is he? He sought an answer for long.
His bright crystallized body, as flashy as it was, seemed to not attract the attention of his many clanmates.
He was thought to be unworthy of the shadowbinder, his deity.
He did not like to be pushed back and forth between lairs, and was often offered to be exalted. Of course, he refused.

Until they kidnapped him. And left him in the abiding boneyard.
A place he could not escape.

He wasn't a great flier. His shimmery pearly wings were heavy and especially hard to control, despite their size.
So he ran. And kept running. For days. Weeks. Months? He lost count.

Then he stopped, and cried. Because he saw, far away, a set of brightly coloured caves. Dragons were flying up the covered sky of the scarred wasteland.

---

Gunther was placidly walking by the field just outside the lair, when he saw what seemed to be a deceased spiral. He called out for it, but got no response.

Gunther shuffled to the spiral. He had an heartbeat.

---

He woke up.
"Hey, you're okay!" Said an unusually small nocturne surrounded by fish.
"Whats your name? Where are you from?"
"I... my name is...
My name is Morva."

---

GALLERY
My art (Tany)


Gijinka design and art by MaDovahVhenan