Nimini

Nimini Potion Maker

A young tundra stood on the edge of his birth clan’s territory and resolved not to look back as he headed out into the world. He had no family and few friends; that clan was little more than a group of strangers who had taken care of him for a short time. But there was so much to see beyond its boundaries! It was not long before he found a clan where he felt at home. He took a great interest in the strange plants growing around the clan’s home in the Starfall Isles and they allowed him to stay and study them. Although he did not speak, they took the time to learn his language of signs and gestures. He was happy. Shortly he started to experiment with what he could make out of the intriguing flora and began to craft simple potions. He believed that he could create a potion to change his appearance, to give him new patterns and bring out hidden tints. Maybe he could even someday change his species through potions. He had heard it could be done and his skill was growing quickly. Everyone could tell he would become a master potion maker some day. But things changed a short while after that. He was sent to the Windswept Plateau to stay with a friendly clan there while his clan hosted some visitors passing through. He was reluctant but they told him it would be a good experience and that he would be back soon, and so he submitted and tried to learn all he could from them. As the days turned to weeks, the young dragon started to wonder if his clan ever meant to collect him at all. The clan he was staying with treated him well enough, giving him a spot among its members and one of their resident animals to keep an eye on him, but he soon realised that they treated every dragon like that, even those who passed through only briefly. He had not yet figured out his name but they gave him one and although it seemed arbitrarily given he accepted it and made it his own. He was taken into a set of ruins nearby in gathering and hunting trips and got to learn of its inhabitants, which ones were harmless and which he should stay away from or try to frighten off. And then one day this clan got him ready to leave. He eagerly prepared, shedding all that tied him there. They led him out into the entrance, where many other dragons, most barely adults, stood waiting, looking out across the land in the direction of the Cloudsong. And suddenly Nimini understood. He tried to explain, to tell these dragons that this was all a mistake, but they did not understand him the way his own clan did. Did they not remember that he was sent there as a guest? How could his clan let this happen? Did they even know? Did they care? As the group were herded out the safety of the lair he grew more and more desperate. All the way he tried to leave or to convince them he wasn’t supposed to be here. They didn’t even seem to notice. He was supposed to be a potion maker back in a lair surrounded by beautiful trees that shone in the dark with the shifting colours of the universe. He was supposed to redesign himself, to live up to the full potential of what he could be. He was supposed to be important enough to his clan that they wouldn't leave him with strangers and forget about him. When they reached the floating platforms he had all but given up hope. He would be stuck here while outside the world moved on without him. He was set to helping with food production and toiled under the open sky over uniform, functional plants with little personality. All around him dragons laughed and sang as they worked, but Nimini withdrew and did not even attempt to communicate with them. When his clan realised where he was they immediately fell to negotiations to get him returned. Both clans petitioned the Windsinger to allow him to come home. Nimini could only watch from afar as they stated their case. Now they noticed he was gone. Now they wanted him there with them. They had left him all alone in a strange place and now they told him they loved him. It was some time before both parties heard the final decision. For some long weeks they could only wait anxiously for their request to be reviewed and considered. When they heard a decision had been made they stood with bated breath to hear it. The god said no. While his journey had been accidental, he had been there too long before they submitted their petition. He would never be allowed to leave. His clan returned home dejected and Nimini remained alone in the sky, countless miles from where he belonged. As the chain of kites drifted over near the Arcane border, he looked out across the pink islands far below and signed one short, simple sentence. “Where were you?”

Nimini Himself (?)

Hiram Brother

Borvo Boyfriend

His brother tells him he slept among the flower petals and tangled undergrowth as a hatchling. He does not remember this. He remembers nothing before the sound of Hiram’s voice calling to him, pulling him, and then they were here, where the walls themselves are made of twisted blossoming branches, and the roots below hold the soft soil above the ground.

It is among these dark underground tunnels that he spends his days, encouraging the fickle limbs to adhere to their positions lining the corridors, to not reach across, choking them and shutting off veins. Only at night does he make his way up to the realms above, when the overarching blue sky does not fill his heart with loss and longing. He has nothing to long for - his life here is complete and joyful - but something about that empty expanse evokes a loneliness he can’t explain. The gentle stars dull that feeling somewhat and allow him to relax and enjoy the open air and the stunning array of nighttime blooms.

The ground beneath his feet appears firm and solid but sometimes he feels it roll and pitch, swaying as he walks from one area to another. When this happens he moves to his nest underneath the bathhouse, where he feels himself rocked gently to sleep in the unmoving earth. He dreams of walkways shifting in the breeze and a faraway horizon and somewhere the distant pull of a home long gone.