Revaklohso's Clan

One day--a seemingly ordinary day, with ordinary weather and ordinary dragons--something extraordinary happened. Certainly there must have been a cause, but no one from any Flight has figured out what that cause was. It seemed completely spontaneous that a pile of tiny fragments made from intellect and strength ability stones of each element suddenly bonded, crushed themselves to sand, and then exploded. From the explosion spawned a single human. His Wild hair was Blonde with an Electric touch, representing Wind, Light and Lightning. His eyes were violet and Deep with Sly Curiosity--Cold yet Fiery, representing Water, Shadow, Arcane, Ice and Fire. His skin was tainted pale with unusual brown birthmarks, reminding one of Earth. His stance and very personality was obviously Conflicted yet in Balance, as Nature and Plague.

The young man peered around curiously at his surroundings. Eleven stones surrounded him, each whispering to him, each offering him a name and power. He approached Light and Shadow, holding one in each hand. "I will show you the truth. You will exact justice over the lands and none shall stand against you!"
"Truth? What a weak offer. Follow my whispers, and you will know both truth and lies, and you will twist your words as easily as you breathe, wrapping your enemies in false fancies and luring them to their death."

Likewise, he picked up each of the stones in pairs; Fire and Ice, Wind and Earth, Arcane and Lightning, Nature and Plague. Finally he picked up Water. To his surprise, water said nothing to him.

"Speak," he commanded. It was his first word, and also a command to himself although he didn't realize it. The stone finally whispered; "Our secrets are so deep, so vast, we cannot even begin to tell them. They are so important that letting them fall into the wrong claws could devastate the land. So we must be silent. If we speak and you join the Shadows, what have we gained? What has anyone gained? For none can be trusted with the secrets of the future but our own."

The man smiled. He grasped the stone with both hands, raised it above his head, and swallowed it. Immediately he felt the power of the waves imbued in him. The whispers of the other stones dissipated, and the man suddenly felt need of water. He ran for miles without stopping as the waves called him. Finally he came to an enormous body of water. He knelt to drink, but as he put his face to the water a dragon suddenly raised its enormous head before him.

It was the Tide-Bringer himself, coming to welcome the man. He taught the man about the Sea of a Thousand Currents, about the Water Flight, and about the future. The man knew he had made the right choice. As a parting gift, the Tide-Bringer created of the waters a special dragon for the man. The dragon was bonded with the man, and the man named it--a name of the future, suggested to the man by the Tide-Bringer. "You are not the first human, although there are few of you. You will not be the last, either. We have seen this. I knew you would join us, and I welcome you." The Tide-Bringer disappeared into the ocean, back to his shell in the depths.

The man never took a name for himself, or never told anyone it. He was an outcast among other humans, as what he spoke made little sense and he told stories of memories he had never experienced. He always seemed to be in two places at once, his attention split between the present and another time... or perhaps another place. Unsocial but polite, confusing yet quiet, calculating and icy-eyed yet generous and gentle, the man became known as the Wanderer. As his mind wandered, so did his belonging, his body, his very soul. The sea, so vast and deep and mysterious, so quiet and full of life yet a place of solitude, became his main abode.

The Wanderer, although of Water, still possessed traits of every element. This made life more difficult; he was known for showing random bouts of generosity and also random bursts of rage. He might be intelligent and logical one moment, then sporadic and wild. He came and went, often visiting a village for a week and then disappearing for months. Any who could become his friend were held with deepest respect and were often given great gifts by him. But enemies he held in the deepest wrath, and his anger would thrash through the smaller lakes. Becoming either his enemy or his ally was a difficult feat, as he was strangely neutral to the happenings of the world. Thus, the Wanderer remains, wandering yet...