Falchion
(#36395909)
Level 20 Nocturne
Familiar
Wasteland Collector
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Nocturne
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.93 m
Wingspan
6.13 m
Weight
617.38 kg
Genetics
Rust
Iridescent
Iridescent
Bronze
Shimmer
Shimmer
Metals
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 20 Nocturne
EXP: 365 / 111687
STR
7
AGI
9
DEF
7
QCK
36
INT
98
VIT
27
MND
7
Biography
 Strength █████ Intellience █████ Quickness █████ Vitality █████ Wisdom █████ Charisma █████  Generation 9 Pulchrior --> Orion -->  Sunrise Line Generation 1 |
❧ FALCHION Quiet | Observant | Courageous | Self-Sacrificing Ever since he was adopted by the dragons of the Suncircle Clan, Falchion had a feeling that there was something he was missing. As a nephew of Apollon and a member of the Dawnguard, Falchion's place in his new clan was relatively assured. Endowed with the same potent magic as the rest of the Dawnguard lineage, Falchion's talent for Word Magic and his keen intellect enabled him to secure a place with Tyrith's magical researchers. However, Falchion found his eyes often straying to the warriors of the clan - specifically to the Night Warriors, especially the red-winged Nocturne Keith. There was something about them that called to him, even if he couldn't put his finger on why. It was one day while he was researching information on binding spells that he inadvertently stumbled upon some information about Keith that Falchion hadn't expected. Keith's relationship with Seramore, as strange as it seemed, was well-documented, but according to genealogical records Keith had taken a previous mate, a Coatl named Sophella who lived in a distant Nature clan. Together they'd had two clutches of hatchlings, and one of those dragons, a male Nocturne named Flare, had been born with coloration extremely atypical of a Night Warrior. When Falchion thumbed through the library's records and managed to find a picture of Flare, his heart stopped beating. A pink and red Nocturne, with runes like fire and dark green eyes, stared up out of the page at him. It was a dragon that Falchion recognized, even if he'd only seen him once before - it was the face of his father. Like all Dawnguard hatchlings, Falchion had been forgotten by his parent as the family's blood curse started to take effect. It was expected, and Falchion didn't begrudge Flare his distance, or his missing memory - it wasn't his father's fault. But it hurt, knowing that through his father's side, he was a Night Warrior like the others in the clan. He had a vast network of extended family members, his grandfather Keith most of all, who didn't know him - and because of his Dawnguard blood curse, they never would. The frustration and sadness gnawed at Falchion, until one day he was finally driven to do something about it. He'd long been acquainted with Dawnshatter, a Nocturne around his own age with prodigious magical abilities in addition to her Night Warrior heritage. The breadth of her potential was still unknown, but Falchion knew she possessed true-sight and was able to see the magical threads of spells. Perhaps, if she was able to spot the threads of Falchion's bloodline curse, there was a way that the spell could be removed. When Falchion broached the subject with Dawnshatter, her shoulders hunched. "I've known you were a member of my family for some time," she admitted. "I'd thought that not telling you the truth was a kindness, but apparently I was wrong about that. Are you really sure you want me to try removing your curse, though?" she said, her voice taking on an apprehensive tone. "I can see how it weaves into your own magic, and it's deep. If I remove it, I have no idea what the effects on your magic will be. You could lose your ability to use magic altogether. It might even strip you of your elemental alignment and kill you. And once I remove it, there's no going back. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" Falchion considered the question. His life now was comfortable and easy, but was it really what he wanted? Would he ever be happy if a part of his heart always cried out for connections and family ties? "Do it," he said to Dawnshatter. "I don't care about the risk." |
The ritual was planned for the following day at twilight, when Dawnshatter's magic would be at its peak and Falchion's magic would be at its weakest. "It should minimize the risks," Dawnshatter said, biting her lip.
Just in case something went horribly wrong, they were also conducting the ritual on a large stone slab located in the middle of the desert.
Falchion watched as Dawnshatter prepared the circle - a simple five-pointed star, anchored by Sacridite crystals at the points and enclosed in a second, larger circle that would hopefully minimize any potential backlash from the curse's removal. Dawnshatter pulled a vial of red liquid from her supplies, and Falchion's eyes widened when he realized what it was. "Whose blood is that?"
"It's Keith's, mixed with some of mine," Dawnshatter replied as she smeared the tips of the five Sacridite crystals. "Your closest blood relative among the clan's Night Warriors, along with some of my own blood to make the working easier. And don't worry - I asked Keith's permission, even if I didn't tell him exactly what ritual I was working. I told him it was to help a family member, and he agreed. You can explain everything yourself, once he's able to recognize you."
Falchion nodded wordlessly, feeling his heart begin to beat faster. In spite of his conviction, he was nervous as he settled himself in the middle of the circle and waited for Dawnshatter to begin her work.
When Dawnshatter began her spell, Falchion felt an odd itching sensation on the surface of his scales. The itching grew worse as the spell progressed, until it felt like molten flame burrowing beneath his skin. Falchion gritted his teeth and dug his claws into the desert sand, refusing to cry out in pain - this was what he'd asked for, after all, and it was foolish to think that something as substantial as a bloodline curse could be removed without a little pain.
His resolve was shaken when Dawnshatter began to tug on the threads of the bloodline curse. He let out a whimper as the burning cords of the spell were pulled loose. "I've almost got it!" Dawnshatter called to him.
When the spell broke free, Falchion felt a sudden, terrible surge of energy before his vision faded to white.
He came to in the middle of the circle, blinking his eyes open weakly at the night sky above his head. His mouth tasted like ashes, and he turned his head gingerly to examine his surroundings.
His breath caught when he realized that the circle he was laying in had been completely destroyed. Fragments of depleted Sacridite were scattered across the sand, gleaming dully in the light of the full moon. The edges of the inner circle had been scorched and blackened, although to his relief the outer protective circle was still largely intact.
"You're awake," said Dawnshatter's voice, and Falchion turned to see her sitting on a stone outcrop nearby. "That's good. There was a magical blowback," she explained before Falchion could ask. "The bloodline curse didn't come away cleanly - it shattered, like glass. Some of the shards are still embedded in you, but by and large my efforts at removing it were a success."
Falchion nodded, then cringed when the motion made his head ache and throb. "If it was a success, what happened to the circle? What happened to me?"
Dawnshatter looked at him soberly. "Without the bloodline curse to contain it, your family's magic is running amok through your system. The surge of power you inadvertently unleashed could have been extremely dangerous if not for the protective circle. I'm afraid you'll never be able to use your magic at full capacity again without risking serious injury, or even death, to everyone around you."
That night in the desert marked a turning point for Falchion. Ashamed at the results of his overreach, Falchion privately resolved never to let his heart rule his head in such matters again. He'd been dealt a certain lot in life, and he was more fortunate than most. While there was nothing wrong with attempting to better one's circumstances, he'd learned something important about the dangers of tampering with factors that were truly beyond his control. By altering his bloodline curse, he'd gained the recognition and acknowledgment of his Night Warrior family - but in exchange, he'd made his own magic dangerously wild and unstable.
Unwilling to let his ability to use magic become crippled altogether, Falchion instead found ways to safely bind his power. Warding runes, protective charms, and a healthy dose of self-discipline allowed Falchion to hone his skills in combat without endangering his fellow fighters, and eventually he was able to take his place among the Night Warriors of the Suncircle Clan.
Falchion's rogue bloodline curse is not gone, though - it lurks, suppressed by the binding charms but still dangerous and deadly in its own right. On bad days, Falchion can feel it stirring within him and will lock himself away from his clanmates for fear that his bound magic will break free. If he ever attempts to unleash the full power of his spells again, it's unlikely that he'll be able to contain it, resulting in the same devastating effects as before - a piece of knowledge that he hangs onto, both as a warning and as a potential last resort.
aART
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