Xuejiao Tsasanşuurga
Mentor Dragon | Ice Dragon | Female | Mentions : Laika , Nalukraja & Iris, Renzana & Draiochtach , Adamos & Azarimous , Marina & Amhuluk , Maximillian & Desmondous, Iezekeiel & Aodhan

At the command of her Squad Leader, the female gave a sharp nod, and a serious expression painted her face, " Yes ma'am, you can count on me. " she said as she turned to attend to her task, but she paused saying, " Be safe, the both of you." And she walked away before going over to her mate and giving him a small nudge.

" Don't do anything stupid. " she with a serious expression and then turned of his rider saying, " keep him safe " she said and then she quickly picked her pace up. She had things to do.

The female has to huff at the response of her rider to her clipped wing. It's nothing but a mere flesh wound ; in the explosion, a rock clipped my wing. It's nothing major, I'll survive. She said through their link, only needed her Rider to know of her current state. She then perked back to attention as she was given orders by Renzana, and she gave a grim nod at her words. It seems they were making a hasty escape. The flames and smoke were getting worst, and she could feel her senses start to dampen because of it. The flames being hit and the air poising moisture and just becoming full of heat. It was not a good thing for her. She then focused her attention to the rookies as it seemed a lot of the pairs were gathered in the courtyard. She then noticed their dragons were already leaping into action and being protective of their riders. She should commend them ; but she had no time for that pleasantry just yet. She had been tasked with a higher responsibility - and she wasn't going to let her Squad Leader down. She made her way over to the group, most appeared to be ready to saddle their dragon and she looked at the humans and dragons before her. They were her charges, and she would be damned if she let anything happen to them under her watch. She may be a bit of a tough mentor, but she was one who cared deeply for those under her even if she didn't show it all the time. And this time, she was ready to show them the lengths she'd go to, to protect her students.

May God have mercy on the souls who got between them

" Apprentice Riders Maximillian, Mariana , Adamos , & Iezekiel . We have orders from the Headmaster to flee . We are not to engage with the enemy, we are to survive . " she spoke candidly, they didn't need things to be sugarcoated right now, they needed the truth, letting it sink in - the severity of the situation, " I know you all are worried for your families and loved ones right now ; but you need to block that noise out right now, and focus." Her voice stern yet, trying to give them comfort, " Our comrades are fighting give us time, and we should not let their sacrifice be in vain." She said, her voice low for a moment before gaining its power and again, " We are heading to the Uncharted Island - and we don't have much time for chit chat. Mount your dragons and take to the skies, we are moving out - your comarades not here will be in the hands of Renzana & Iris . We mustn't delay in the slightest, time is not on our side. "

That's when she heard it, a wail - only given in dread , and that was given by a female dragon that was her comrade. A soft gasp escaped her as she looked in in dread at the battered sight of Kikimora and her Rider. They looked like hell, and they were still up. It was a sight to see , they were making a stand and she couldn't help but watch in a daze as the dragoness gave a defiant roar to the enemy, she wanted to give her own roar of defiance, but it was swiftly turned to horror as the female was struck - and she went barreling into the abyss of darkness. And she didn't raise back in ; and not a sound was heard from her. No, no, no and she turned to see that one student was watching intently. That was his brother's dragon and she felt sick.

We need to go now, she said to Laika through the link. - her brain being full of thoughts of dread and anger. Oh she was not happy, nor in a good mood. She needed to release her anger. Maybe it was the fumes getting to her brains. But she was beginning to block out any chatter and focus on her task at hand.

"We need to go now, " she hissed, snapping her teeth to emphasis her point, looking at the dragons, " get your riders up in the air immediately, we're getting the hell out of here. " her voice laced with urgency and a tense undertone.

This was going to be the longest flight of their lives. Laika, I'm taking of now, make sure you're secure. She said through the link as she began to rise to the air - her wings beating , gusts of wind fanning the flames around them - some dying out due to the wind from her wings. Soon she was high, high above the chaos that was encasing the school - it was devastating what could be seen, the Kingdom . . . it was burning. Plumes of smoke filled the air, and the screams of terror along with the wails of women and children could be faintly heard by her. And her heart ached, she couldn't do nothing but flee, she had to protect those she was assigned to, she knew that the Headmaster would do his best to protect ; but him and his dragon looked gravely injured, it was something they wouldn't be coming back from. It reminded her of her own injury, she could fly, but she could feel her wing slightly feeling heavier when flying due to the strain on it. She wasn't going to complain or back down though, she had orders and she was going to do everything to the best of her ability to make sure that her and the apprentices made it to that damned island together , even if it killed her fo do such a thing, she is going to do it for them.

" Apprentices with me, " she called in a powerful voice ; and she turned to the Northwest , and she began to fly - into lands that were far from this Kingdom that she decided to make her home. She was uncertain of what lay ahead of them, but she was sure that these apprentices would live and that anyone who got in the way would now by the claws for their interference .

Ciliren Valroris

Outpost Rider | Female | Dragon: Mort’luath

Mentions: Mort’luath, Sansa, Sylph (dir) Koa & Eirian (ind)

Sisters of the night was a term that would resonate incredibly well with the white-haired triplets as children. It had been almost innately shared amongst them to be relatively nocturnal beings wide awake in the shadows of the night, screaming and shouting under the moonlight. As they aged Ciliren had been the one triplet to maintain this way of life proudly, with Sylphiel and Sorisansa straying slightly away, however still sharing this love for the night sky. Being predominantly nocturnal, it supported much of Ciliren’s personality. She is much of a ghostly being made to remain unbothered by the socialites of the daylight hours. She greatly enjoys the song of the wind that screams through the cliff face that has been her new home for some time now, just as much as she enjoys watching the reflection of the moon bouncing off the waves of the ocean on the beach below.

Ren had managed to awaken from her deep slumber gazing out into the clouded moonlight which had managed to peer into her room landing itself atop of her bed. She could smell a storm coming and just as quickly as the moon had appeared it had disappeared. The best kind of nights were those either under the moonlight or even under the dark clouds of night. She had wondered if Mort’luath had shared a similar sleep schedule or if he was on an opposing sort of schedule or not a single schedule at all. The bonded pair had only seemed natural to her as her siblings could argue his diabolical physical features would compliment much of her own personality. She had instantly fallen in love with him the moment they had met, it just felt like she was at home with him, despite her siblings' initial apprehension.

Slipping herself out of bed she would emit a large yawn and extend her forearms overtop of her head, soon stalking over toward her washroom. Shaking her head allowing her silver-white bob to swish and sway and soon find its place of rest at the nape of her neck. She would pad over to her dark brown dresser and pull out her black flying leathers slipping out of the royal blue loosely-fitted sleeping tunic to now dress in her usual attire. Following the addition of a pair of black cotton socks she would slip into her calf-length boots and finally adorn her leather corset and wrist gauntlets all gently clanking with her extensive assortment of daggers.

Her room within the vast tunneling system of the cliff had neared somewhere close to the top, which she was not opposed to whatsoever. Her sisters had adjacent rooms a floor down which left Koa and Eirian somewhere above and below. A grin would spill across her face as she schemed of ways to awaken her siblings for an evening ride. Who to pester first was the question. Ciliren’s relationship with her siblings were fairly matched and equal, however, it was always Sylphiel she would run beside causing mayhem and destruction in their wake. Sylph had more life to her compared to Sansa who had to be the most level-headed of the triplets. Opening the door to Sansa’s room the long waves of snow-white hair had spilled onto the floor.

“Whatever you are thinking Ren, get it out of your head.” Sansa had stated begrudgingly.

“Killjoy.” Ciliren retorted, sheathing her dagger back on her thigh.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Sansa would grunt once more.

“Fine. Any later and I will see to it to wake you every single night this week.” She remarked with another devilish smirk.

“Get out.” Sansa firmly stated, reaching for a pillow and threatening to toss it.

With Sansa half-awake this would either mean Sylph was just as awake as herself or sleeping like the dead. Not even attempting to be remotely quiet Ciliren had made her grand entry across the way to Sylph’s room barreling through the door.

“YOUR SHE-DEVIL OF A SISTER HAS ARRIVED! MAKE HASTE SYLPHIEL, WE MUST GO ONWARD ON DRAGONBACK TO PATROL THE BORDERS!” Flinging two daggers at a gap in an adjacent wall she would sprint to collect them and see herself out slamming the door behind her.

Chuckling to herself had she managed to shout so loud that the boys heard her meh the more the merrier but if she knew Eirian well enough he was probably snickering to himself with Koa likely to wake her up in the same manner or worse to make up for it. She would go down the endless staircase leading into the dragon’s cave. She knew very well not to disturb the sleep of any other neighboring dragons however somehow they knew who was entering before doing so well in advance, somehow.

‘Mort’luath? Are you awake?' She would ask openly into her mind probing to see if the dragon had stirred.

↠↠↠

Sorisansa Valroris

Outpost Rider | Female | Dragon: Aegon

Mentions: Ciliren & Aegon (dir) Sylph, Talvi, Koa, & Eirian (ind)

Be it triplet telepathy or some sort of dragon magic the girls knew when each one was awake at whatever hour of the day or night it may be. Tonight to no avail would be one of those nights. Sansa could hear the footsteps before she had felt the slight breeze of her bedroom door open.

“Whatever you are thinking Ren, get it out of your head.” Sansa had stated begrudgingly. She despised being awoken, however knew Ciliren was much like her in this aspect.

“Killjoy.” Ciliren retorted, sheathing her dagger back on her thigh.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Sansa would grunt once more. Her muscles felt so heavy she barely wanted to wave her sibling off.

“Fine. Any later and I will see to it to wake you every single night this week.” She remarked with another devilish smirk.

“Get out.” Sansa firmly stated, aggressively reaching for a pillow and threatening to toss it at Ciliren.

A long huff would be released from the depths of her lungs, a release of the annoyance of being a triplet. Despite being the second-born the only blessing being the middle child brought Sansa was being either thoroughly and completely ignored and forgotten or the center of their parents attention. Much like Sylph, Sorisansa is predominantly docile making her the most readily approachable of the triplets. Some, if not most, were only slightly apprehensive to approach Sylph whenever she was around Ciliren, since Ciliren virtually scares everyone she comes across with her essence alone. Otherwise, herself and Sylphiel were a pair that much enjoy each other's company being rather sociable and talkative.

Grunting with much distaste tangled beneath the warmth of her sherpa throw, Sansa had managed to roll off her bed falling victim to the comfort cocoon of death. She would manage to unravel herself only to lay flat on her back extending all four limbs out like a star and stare at the ceiling blankly.

Then for a moment the loud booming vocals of Ciliren reverberated from across the hall, followed by the clanging of two daggers scrapping against rock, and then the slam of another bedroom door.

“YOUR SHE-DEVIL OF A SISTER HAS ARRIVED! MAKE HASTE SYLPHIEL, WE MUST GO ONWARD ON DRAGONBACK TO PATROL THE BORDERS!”

‘This is to be my life now I suppose.’ She thought to herself eventually finding the strength to rise. Gods help the men they've managed to live with since the academy, exception to that being Eirian, who had been stationed at the outpost prior to their arrival. Dusting off her blanket she would make her bed and wander into the washroom debating whether to wear her hair down or to braid it. She opted to keep her hair down for this evening's patrol. She much enjoys the particular feeling of the cool wind dancing within her scalp and entangling itself in her hair.

‘Aegon. Ciliren is restless. We are to fly in twenty.’ She would attempt to notify her dragon telepathically.

Whilst Mort’luath proved to be one of the scarier mounts introduced in the academy she was relieved to find that he had bonded to Ciliren. Aegon in stark contrast has a predominantly regal taste to him. His colorations are not believed to be common for a storm dragon of his species as most range in stark stone greys and blacks. Whether it was his regality or the uniqueness in his build being more closely related to that of wyverns than of dragons, in any case he is home to Sansa. Very quickly did it seem they were drawn to each other which he had shared wasn’t very common for him to do other than with his mate Talvi. Upon their formal bond ceremony he had been able to put words to her feelings she couldn’t quite explain and despite having a soft spot for her siblings and Talvi’s rider, Koa, he has yet to disappoint in keeping tabs on Sansa and her emotions.

Adjusting her left leather bracer and slinging her bow across her back to sit beside her quiver full of arrows she would step out of the room. Presumably Sylph and Ren had already been airborn leaving Sansa for last, which wasn’t uncommon. If anything Sansa being last to everything was normal for the triplets. Any other way would be really weird and warrant questioning on the well-being of the triplets. Sansa was always last because she would serve as the mother hen. Ensuring snacks were packed and all sorts of things were carried if forgotten. Today she carried three apples with her and a hare. Ciliren had gifted her a satchel particularly just so Sansa had something to carry supplies in since the two other triplets always managed to forget. In her satchel she carried healing herbs, large rolled bandages, spare daggers, a book, and of course snacks.

She, too, would soon make her way down to the dragon caves bearing a handful of raw steaks for Aegon and a few meant for Talvi.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Sylphiel Valroris

Outpost Rider | Female | Dragon: K'issuk Rán | Mentions: K'issuk Rán

Indirectly: Sorisana, Ciliren

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

The moon hung high as Sylphiel made it back to her bedroom from the beach, water dripping onto the floor from her drenched teal nightgown. Soft clinking could be heard as she moved her woven basket filled with shells to her dresser. The subtle sound of the shells created a melodic accompaniment to the night noises of nocturnal animals and the distant crashing of waves.

Her hands moved with gentle grace as she examined each seashell, a luminous treasure glistening faintly in the dim light. She marveled at their delicate shapes and soft hues, brushing off the sand that clung to a few. She had been out there since sunset, sitting at the water's edge, letting the sand slip through her fingers, feeling its fine grains sift and scatter. The warmth of the sun had kissed her face, soon replaced by the gentle caress of the moon. Once fearful of the water's ever-changing nature and unpredictable steps, Sylphiel had come to embrace it fully after pairing with her Water dragon, K’issuk Rán. She found solace in the water’s embrace, and it had become a cherished part of her life she never wanted to leave behind.

As Sylphiel moved about her room in utter silence, she began to recite an ancient poem in a language that seemed as old as the sea. She had read it earlier in a book, and it hadn’t left her head since. The verses flowed from her lips with a haunting melody, like a siren calling from the sea. The poem spoke of forgotten lore and ancient love affairs. It was then she heard the whirlwind that was her sister, Ciliren, the poem falling away mid-sentence. A smile played upon her lips as she heard her sisters snap at each other. She knew she would be Ciliren's next target.

Quickly, Sylphiel began to dress out of her still-wet gown, replacing it with a pair of black and deep blue riding leathers. Her long-sleeve shirt was a deep blue shade of breathable linen, securing a holster over the shirt that laid just at her ribcage, before sheathing three blades on each side. Her pants were made of durable, dark black leather, tailored to allow maximum movement and secured with a wide, sturdy belt adorned with small pouches for essential items. Her black boots were knee-high and made of the same tough leather as her pants, with reinforced soles and metal toe caps to protect her feet during landings and rough terrain. They had subtle silver buckles that complemented the embroidery on her jacket.

She heard the footsteps before the voice—or daggers—assaulted her door, just as she sheathed her another two daggers to her thighs.

“YOUR SHE-DEVIL OF A SISTER HAS ARRIVED! MAKE HASTE, SYLPHIEL, WE MUST GO ONWARD ON DRAGONBACK TO PATROL THE BORDERS!”

All Syl could do was smile as she heard her sister, her hands quickly styling her damp white hair into Bruenor braids, which consisted of two braided knots on her head, two long braids down her back, with a few face-framing strands. She grabbed her dark leather jacket, gently touching the intricate, blue embroidery in the pattern of dragon scales, representing her dragon’s scales. It was something that Syl had sewn on as soon as she got her hands on the jacket after bonding with K'issuk Rán.

Sylphiel was thankful for her sisters. She was coddled a lot as a young child, confined indoors while her sisters trained with weapons much larger than themselves. Thankfully, her sisters took it upon themselves to train her as well. Sylphiel became adept in close combat, her skills with poisons and daggers making her a lethal force in any skirmish. Despite Sansa’s guidance, Sylphiel still struggled with long-distance engagements.

While many of her companions honed their physical skills, training with weapons and perfecting combat techniques, Sylphiel focused on a different kind of preparation. She trained her mind with equal dedication, immersing herself in ancient lore and current politics. Her days were spent studying dusty tomes and scrolls, deciphering long-forgotten languages, and keeping up with the shifting tides of political alliances and rivalries.

Ardian paced the outskirts of the courtyard relentlessly, a sword plucked from the Academy's armory clutched tightly in his white-knuckled grip. His fellow students were scattered across the grounds, uneasily awaiting news in the wake of Durston's arrival without his dragon. He'd fallen unconscious as soon as they brought him into the school; everyone was waiting with bated breath for him to wake and explain what was going on.

Ardian didn't like the idea of being unarmed in a situation like this, so he'd crept into the armory and snatched up the first weapon he stumbled across. It was a sparring sword, slightly dulled so that the students wouldn't slice each other up too badly, but it would have to do.

The night was eerily quiet. Sparks from the bonfires placed around the courtyard snapped and drifted into the starry sky. Everyone seemed too nervous to speak normally; only a few whispers here and there made their way to Ardian's ears. He heard the distant clanging of steel from the other side of the courtyard. With nothing else to occupy his time other than more agonizingly boring waiting, he made his way slowly towards the noise.

As he drew closer, he stopped suddenly. He could just barely make out the figures of the two sparring students amidst the darkness, but he recognized one of them instantly: Max. As he squinted, Ardian realized that the other fighter was his own roommate, Iezekial. Interesting. He hadn't known they were friends. He'd assumed Iezekial would have registered the shared surname and mentioned it at some point, and it irritated Ardian ever so slightly that he hadn't.

As he stood mulling over this new revelation, he noticed Max's body tense suddenly. He didn't have time to bolt before his brother turned quickly away from his sparring partner and directly towards Ardian.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Ardian stood frozen. He would have pestered Max normally, but this time he had wandered directly into Max's space and his business, so he felt horrifically awkward about snapping at him, especially in front of Iezekial.

Max scowled at him for a moment before he whipped back around to face Iezekial. Ardian let out a quiet sigh of relief and silently crept away from the pair; he didn't want Max to think that he'd come looking for him specifically. Of course he was a little worried about Max, especially since they had no idea what Durston had come across that separated him from his dragon-

A deafening boom shook the entire courtyard. Ardian's vision spun, and he became aware that he was sprawled on his back across the courtyard's cobblestones. He scrambled to his feet, the muscles in his back screaming in protest, and scanned the scene around him.

It was chaos. Flaming boulders littered the grounds, deep pits in the dirt where they had landed. Students bolted in every direction, and screams of fear and pain filled the air. Another resounding crash echoed from behind Ardian, and he turned to see the Headmaster's dragon collapsing on top of the barracks. His heart was hammering painfully against his ribs, and he tightened his grip on his sword fearfully. Through the thick smoke, he could see a handful of other dragons soaring into the night sky, likely to seek out whatever threat had launched this attack.

Ardian glanced around frantically for Max, but the smoke was too thick to see more than a few feet away from him. His brain was blank with panic; either he would suffocate in the oppressive layer of smoke, or he would be crushed by another flaming boulder lobbed through the air.

Ardian forced himself to take several deep breaths, though the choked air burned his throat and lungs. He shut his eyes despite what his instincts told him to do and reached out for the telepathic connection formed between dragon and rider.

In his time at the Academy, he had failed time and time again to establish this bond with Guang. She was just as stubborn as he was, and he was sure she could sense that his heart wasn't in it. He had only been able to catch vague flashes of her thoughts and surroundings in the time since they'd been paired together. He wasn't sure, however, if the same was true of her. Perhaps she could easily access the link between them, and his inability to connect with her affected only him. He squeezed his eyes shut harder and focused on his thoughts, projecting them as powerfully as he could. Guang, the Academy is under attack. We need to get out.

Guāng Huánghòu || Female || 167 || Apprentice Light Dragon || Rider: Adrian || M: Viscusvoréntomon, Ardian

“What a bothersome time we find ourselves in, don’t you think Viscus?”

A high pitched voice rings out from a small clearing with the trees somewhere along the outskirts of the Academy, its tone dripping of superiority. Its owner was presently inspecting a rock, sitting on her haunches like a cat as her tail swishes behind her. Her face held a narrowed and scrutinizing expression as she turned it over in her talons, looking over every imperfection it had with her harsh blue eyes. The rock was quite dull, lacking any shine or shimmer as well as interesting patterns or colorations. A meaningless little pebble that should have never existed. With a scowl, she tosses it into the stream it once laid beside. It enters with an audible plunk.

Reaching down her talons tap against a new stone, clutching it in her grasp before bringing it up to eye level. “Well, for me anyways. Stuck here, tied to a rider I want no affiliation with. Forced to learn the most mundane of topics while being expected to grow closer to the creature I was called here to meet. One who seemingly can withstand my outstanding presence.”

The dragoness’ face shifts into a snarl as she continues, giving the larger dragoness no time to speak, “Why, I can’t even parade him around! Much too bland to be seen with the likes of me. If only the beauty of his eyes matched the rest of him.”

With a forceful throw, the discards yet another rock into the small flow of water. Angling herself in such a way to face the stream, Guāng stares down at her reflection or what little of one there was. The night was of a disgustingly dark shade, vacant of virtually all light save for what little came from the sliver of a moon above. Her masked face was nigh impossible to make out amidst the black-stricken waters, but some of her more creamy aspects remained as did the slight sheen of her eyes.

“And now,” she goes on, “some hot-shot rider turns up out of nowhere, battered and beaten? Like anything else was needed.”

She doesn’t turn to look at her nearby companion, her gaze remaining solely focused on her vague image below. Silence filled the air between the two as the lighten being continued her unwinnable staring contest with her own reflection.

“Though,” she takes another pause as she attempts to collect her words, her voice now hushed compared to its usual volume, “what do you suppose happened to that dragon of his? It’s not everyday one manages to sunder a pair such as those…”

And if they could do it once, who says they won’t do it again?...

A thunderous boom echoed across the land, vibrating the very earth she stood upon. In a flash the siamese beast was on her feet, the accessories along her antlers jingling slightly from the sudden momentum. Her attention focused on the direction of the violent noise: the Academy. A barrage of other crashes soon followed suit. Flames rose into the air filling the once blackened void with a sickening and unnatural rush of light. A tinge of distress runs through her blood at the sight, mixing with what she could only describe as a foreign rush of fear – for it was not her own.

The female’s legs move on their own accord as though knowing something she did not. Their short forms pound against the forest floor, doing their best to carry her to the sight of the commotion with the absence of light. Flying was not an option.

It did not take long for Huánghòu to reach the grounds she had gotten affiliated with over the past weeks, standing on a ledge above it all. Light blue orbs skim over the ruined layout before her. Fire littered the area, scorching all those in its path and forming blankets of smoke across the area. Buildings crumbled and shattered as though made of glass. Large masses of rock flew through the sky, colliding with dragons and stone alike. A terrifying display from whomever this purporator was.

A message filters into her mind, a call from her rider in a time of need. She rolls her eyes to this, not in a manner of disregarding his fear – she could feel that – but at the oh-so obvious “under attack” line. Not that he knew she was nearby, of course, but that didn’t stop her from finding it ridiculous.

With a light growl she leaps from her perch, her front paws catching some of the light the flames provided and propelling herself into the air. Focusing on the small connection the two shared, she “begrudgingly” sets out to find his location – though his own fear did give her some encouragement to do so for whatever reason.

Ciliren Valroris