Stormy

By @DriftingDreams
Lore stuff:

Stormy was born on a stormy day where the raindrops were as big as hails, and the hails as large as tennis balls. The very same day he was abandoned. Luckily, he was noticed and taken in by a local inn on the condition that he would help around the inn. Often he knew, that this was only a contract that existed until he turned of age, that the owners of the inn did not treat him as family but rather as a worker. Little did he know that they were members of a cult who sacificed foreign dragons when of age because of their beliefs. One day he accidentally discovered the truth and he escaped to the forest, where the shadows lay. In the forest, he stumbled upon a group who called themselves the "Lost Ones"- dragons who didn't know their purpose in life and were lost- and joined them. He grew up to be wary, untrusting, and always suspicious and on his toes.

From his looks, many get intimidated. He may seem cold, uncaring or distant, but on the inside, he cares. Basically a tsundere. Stormy is bad at expressing emotions and is shy. He doesn't like meeting people and is especially wary of strangers. Sometimes he pushes you away if you become too close to his heart, being afraid of hurting you. Stormy is the type of dragon who would sacrifice their own happiness for yours, hoping he'd finally be wanted and loved.

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By @DriftingDreams

Stormy had to get away from the dragons who had raised him.

They were not what they seemed. Stormy had always thought them cold, treating him as yet another worker, but had only just found out their true nature. They were ready to sacrifice him. Like a sheep, having ripened to the age where he could be slaughtered in the name of their twisted beliefs.

It was the dead of night. Sounds of old, creaking wood echoed around the dark room. Stormy was gathering up all of his belongings —— or, rather, the ones that he needed. He was surprised to find that he didn’t need to bring too many of them. Most of them were things that he only needed to work at the inn; brooms and feather-dusters and rags. The only things that he packed in his satchel were coins and a few scraps of food: Strips of leathery jerky and dried insects. He had no idea when the next time he would get fresh food would be, so he chose whatever would last the longest. (It wasn’t hard to find, as it wasn’t exactly like Stormy ate piping-hot, fresh feasts here.)

Heart racing, Stormy hoisted his bag onto his hip and rushed out of his room. He scurried across the floor of the hallway, being careful not to make any sound. Thankfully, his Nocturne feet were light upon the floor, and did not make nearly as much sound as they might have if he were a bigger dragon. Thank the Shadowbinder I’m not a Guardian, he thought. Or a Snapper. Or an Imperial. Or… His thoughts raced through different possibilities, a welcome distraction from the fact that he very well may die tonight if he didn’t properly pull off the escape. He kept running through the hall, where every other dragon was safely asleep in their own room. Or so they thought. None of them were safe, if they weren’t a member of the cult that ran this death ring in disguise. Stormy knew that this was where the workers and servants slept, so he assumed that they were like him: Innocent dragons that were unaware of their coming doom. He could be wrong. They could all be monsters, too. Everyone could be evil except him. He just didn’t know.

Stormy swept down the stairs and into the lobby. He unlocked the door and ran outside.

The forest was pitch-black, practically unseeable to day-waking dragons. Thankfully, Stormy was a Shadow dragon, and a Nocturne at that. He could see perfectly fine in this inky darkness. He saw the dark, twisted trees, the thorny bushes tangled on the ground, and the glowing mushrooms creating small pools of cyan light around them. Stormy took off, running into the forest. It wasn’t nearly as quick as flying, but if he flew, he would be too noticeable from the sound of his wingbeats. I can’t risk that! His heart pounded as he jumped over a particularly gnarly tangle of thorns. “Ouch!” His feet collided with another thornbush, causing him to trip and fall. Oh no, oh no, oh no! What if the cult heard me? What if they’re searching —— what if —— they’re going to ——

A lantern light approached from ahead. A dragon was holding it. Stormy couldn’t tell their species or gender.

“Don’t kill me!” Stormy snarled, stumbling back.

“We wouldn’t kill you,” said the dragon. “You’re clearly just as lost as we are. Come.” The dragon started walking forward.

I don’t trust them, Stormy thought. But I don’t have a choice but to trust them.

I suppose I don’t have a better option.

Stormy followed the lantern light into the darkness, and into an uncertain future.