Zimraphel
(#58766321)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Taper Cradle
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.78 m
Wingspan
5.26 m
Weight
631.48 kg
Genetics
Moon
Iridescent
Iridescent
Pearl
Shimmer
Shimmer
Moon
Filigree
Filigree
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
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She had been trained to deal with dragonkind. To forge diplomatic ties with them, to better understand their ways. It had been difficult; the dragons were lesser people, and it was a challenge for Zimraphel to lower herself and see the world through their eyes. "They may look like us," she was warned, "but they are not the same as us. Do not forget your station, Zimraphel." Then off she was sent on her first mission, as a diplomat to the lands of Light. The clan that she was assigned to was prosperous. They spent much of their time cementing business deals with other dragons. Wealth flowed to and fro within the lair; as a diplomat, Zimraphel was sometimes present at these dealings. Inwardly she scoffed at the wares the dragons dealt in; they were rough, almost crude, next to the wonders crafted by elfkind. |
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But the dealings were lawful, and the dragons obviously took great pride in their craft. Zimraphel listened, just to be polite, as they spoke of how they took the land's riches, worked them into wares for everyday use and adornment. Materials and finished goods came from all over; it was hard to get the sense of things just by looking at a map. When the dragons offered to take Zimraphel on a trading flight to the Windswept Plateau, the elf-maiden smiled and politely agreed to the plan.
It was a life-changing experience. She had flown before, but never so high; the clan's heavy transport dragons flew to altitudes she had only glimpsed. From the safety of their backs, Zimraphel looked down, saw how enormous the world truly was.
But it was more than that: Here and there were bright dots, dragons crisscrossing the firmament. Hundreds of them, on missions of their own for countless other clans. Zimraphel counted one, then another, and then more and more. She guessed the wealth they were carrying, how hard and far they'd have to fly. The numbers staggered even her imagination.
She saw more that day than she'd ever had, in her family's hall in the Starfall Isles or even in the commercial clan she now called home. It was almost a disappointment when they returned to the latter, their trading deals done at last. Zimraphel briefly contemplated returning to her family and asking for reassignment to a different clan, but the thought repulsed her.
It wasn't that she wanted to stay here -- far from it. She didn't want to return to her family's hall either. Reassignment could take months, and the thought of waiting that long in those staid, familiar halls made her wings droop.
And that was it, she realized: they were familiar. She'd glimpsed how large the world was, and against that, the thought of remaining indefinitely in this now-boring clan, or of returning to her tribe's tiny territory, was distinctly unpleasant. She could not call it "greed"....Was it greed to want more out of the world? Perhaps it was, but whatever the label, she wanted it. A most un-elfish thought, contemplating abandoning her diplomatic duties in favor of a more selfish purpose. Yet contemplate it she did.
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When a message arrived from home one day, she was briefly hopeful: Perhaps she would be sent somewhere else. But then she read it, and her heart sank. Her tribe had arranged her marriage to a Star Elf from another clan, and they would be wed here in the Sunbeam Ruins. It was hoped (though frankly in this case, the better word was expected) that they would eventually establish a new tribe of Star Elves in the lands of Light. Zimraphel held out some hope. She'd never met her prospective mate; perhaps he would offer the excitement she now desperately craved. When he arrived at the lair, however, her hopes were once again dashed. He was poised, tranquil, and dutiful -- in short, exactly like every other elf she'd met. She couldn't stay shackled to all this familiarity. She would have to leave. To abandon her duties and fiance and make her own way into the world... It would be a scandal, but it would be her scandal. |
She made preparations for her journey. She put her belongings together and made plans to leave one night. All was going well when suddenly--
"Lady Zimraphel. Where are you headed at this hour?"
She clenched her teeth and turned away from the lair doors. The one dragon she didn't want to encounter: Xepheus, her intended mate.
There was no way around it: Diplomats like herself did not travel alone, in the dead of night. The other elf looked at her bundle of belongings, and he again gave her that cool, calm look. "You are leaving the lair? Would I be correct in assuming no one else is meant to know of this?"
Zimraphel nodded glumly. It was all over now. She would be made to explain herself; her family would doubtless call her back to issue an official reprimand. She could see it all now...and honestly, that was the worst part, knowing exactly what would happen. The predictability of it.
She braced herself for Xepheus' remonstrations -- but to her immense surprise, none came.
"It's a lovely night for a stroll," he said, just a bit loudly. "Shall we step outside?" He smiled, pushed one door open, and then exited into the garden. Zimraphel, not quite wanting to give up yet, followed him outside.
They passed one of the guards. He grunted and let them pass, and Zimraphel now wondered how much of the exchange he'd heard. She considered fleeing now, but caught sight of Xepheus reclining on a nearby dais, his back to her. She fluttered over to him instead.
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He laughed quietly when she alighted. "That should have been your cue to leave." "Why are you helping me, Lord Xepheus?" "Perhaps I'm helping myself as much as I'm helping you." He turned to face her, still smiling. It was a friendly smile-- And, Zimraphel realized, that was all it was. Despite their upcoming marriage, there was no passion, no affection, between them. "See the world through their eyes" -- the old words came back to her, and now she glimpsed Xepheus for who he was: another elf, unhappy with the duties forced upon him, but still looking for a way out. Hoping for a future where he could be happy, duties and traditions be damned. |
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And now, at last, she smiled back at him. "We are more alike than we first suspected, it seems," she admitted. "Perhaps it could have gone differently...but I do not mind telling you now, I was not interested in making it work."
"No, neither was I. You are not without your merits and charms," and Xepheus inclined his head formally, "but I can see that your heart belongs to another. Not necessarily another elf or a dragon, of course. But perhaps..." He trailed off, raised his gaze to the heavens, the stars. The world beyond.
Zimraphel followed his gaze, and finally she stood up. Her wings rustled as she prepared for flight. "What will you say to them?"
"I shall tell them that the ways of elves are mysterious, and that there are some matters it is difficult for dragonkind to comprehend."
"And you are comfortable with that?"
"Why should I not be?" Lazily, Xepheus winked one rose-colored eye. "There's nothing false about it, after all."
Zimraphel laughed. And as she did, she spread her wings, launched herself towards the sky, and thence the rest of the world. It unfurled beneath in all its glorious patchwork beauty, and she chose a direction at random -- at random! at last! -- and soared away.
Xepheus watched her go. He'd briefly considered telling her, "You'll make someone else very happy one day," but now he was very glad he hadn't said that.
"You will be very happy one day," he thought instead to Zimraphel, and it was as much a wish as it was a prediction. He stood up, and with a final satisfied nod, he turned and headed back into the lair.
~ lore written by Disillusionist
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The Elves of Starlight, also known as Lights of Earendil, are a small-numbered variant rarely seen by either dragon or elf. Once, before the fall of elves, they were the origin of all, blessed by the stars and the Primal magic that is part of any elf; now they have become ethereal beings, caught between worlds. Their colors are a reflection of the stars themselves, their filigreed gems the last brightness left in them from a grand glory long ago.
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Exalting Zimraphel to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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