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‘Willow’ or ‘Willa’

Pronounced ‘Willa-dean Fi-or-ey’

23 years old

April 22nd

Female

Heterosexual

Princess of the Kingdom of Reyes

Willodean possesses a natural sort of beauty that is accentuated by her personality. She has a rectangular shaped face with slightly upturned eyes that are a deep hazel in color. She has long blonde hair which is usually bleached from the sun, falling just above her waist. One of Willow’s favorite things to do during times of boredom is experiment with new, intricate hairstyles.

Her skin is pale, occasionally tanned depending on the amount of time she spends outside. Willodean has a willowy body structure (ironic, yes), with graceful arms and long legs. She moves like the wind itself, steady and flowing. Willow seems to possess a deep kind of self-confidence, and it is reflected in her movements and actions. Nearly everything about her is gentle, yet not weak.

When it comes to her fashion choices, she always makes a spectacle. She is fascinated with clothing and takes great joy in creating the most gorgeous dresses and other outfits. Many of these items strike awe into the people, but she never dresses for the attention of others, merely for her own satisfaction. Willodean loves to dress up, taking joy in looking her best. Her usual outfit consists of an immaculate, flowing dress of her choosing along with varying accessories. During her dragon-riding days, however, she prefers a simple tunic, pants and boots.

Willodean is a kind, gentle soul. She is deeply empathetic and always tries to act with others’ best interests in mind. To many, this makes her seem weak, like a pushover, but she knows that there is strength in kindness. It was this kindness that ultimately led her to her alliance with the dragons. Where the rest of her kingdom was hunting and killing the beasts, she seen beautiful, misunderstood creatures.

Willow has always been deeply connected to nature. She loves to study botany in her free time, as well as studying different species of animals. She often goes on walks through nearby forests to clear her mind and connect with the nature there. She is innately curious of almost everything that the world has to offer, always searching for a new species of flora or fauna to study. She never took any interest in learning the ways of swordplay, but picked up the most basic of skills per her father’s demands.

She has always been a bit of a wandering soul, not very close with anyone in her family or in the castle where she grew up. She doesn’t necessarily prefer to be by herself, but she doesn’t mind it either. It’s not that she doesn’t want friends, she just hasn’t found anyone that she connected with.

Willodean is, however, very stubborn. She isn’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but will put up an argument if you catch her in the right mood. She absolutely despises when someone tells her that she’s wrong and will always stick to her opinions until she is given evidence as to why she is wrong. And even after that, she will still fume for a couple of days.

Being a princess, Willow is very well educated. She has a very proper way of speaking and acting, which is more of an instinct now than anything. This can come off as condescending at times, although she rarely means it that way.

Willodean is the first child and oldest daughter of the king and queen of Reyes. Her father was disappointed in her from birth, hoping for a son and receiving a daughter instead. Her father was usually distant at best, disgusted at worst. Some of his scrutiny fell away with the birth of her younger brother, but that disappointment always returned every time Willodean made a misstep. This resulted in her becoming quite the perfectionist. She stopped searching for her father’s approval long ago, and now his manner toward her and her sisters doesn’t affect her as much as it once did. Along with her younger brother, she has two younger sisters and another younger brother.

Willow’s mother was more loving and caring of her children, but something was still frigid between them. No matter how much she wanted to love her children, the cold and callous ways of being a queen were embedded in her bones. She did everything a mother was supposed to do, fed them, cared for them, even played with them occasionally, but she never really formed a maternal bond with Willow or any of her other children.

Despite her father’s disregard of her existence and her mother’s somewhat cold manner, the people of Reyes loved Willow. Or, at least, they loved the image she gave them. Despite feeling like she is never truly seen, Willow loves her people.

Willodean has always been troubled by how her father handles the dragons. Every time someone paraded into the throne room with a pouch of scales or a dragon eye, she felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She knew it wasn’t right, but she didn’t know how to stop it either.

On one of her usual walks through the forest, she tripped and tumbled into a deep ravine. There she encountered a dragon, the first live one she had ever seen. Despite her compassion for creatures, the tales told by her father and many others had her convinced that she was going to die. Instead of attacking her, the beast helped her, gently carrying her to safety.

It wasn’t long after that when she discovered a group of people who felt the same as she did about the dragons. All of them had their own dragons, and they all worked to secretly and discreetly protect them from harm. They had a sanctuary deep in a forgotten forest, abandoned by humans after finding the dragons that lived there.

Willow began visiting the sanctuary, participating in attempts to save and care for injured and trapped dragons. It gave her a purpose that she didn’t know she needed, even if she is forced to keep it a secret from everyone she knows.

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‘Immortal serpent’

171 years old

Male

Amaru is part of a breed of dragon known as the Black Veined Death. This breed are mainly native to forests and jungles. They possess glands in the roof of their mouths that produce a deadly venom that can coat their teeth and mouth, giving them a lethal bite. The venom turns victims veins black right before death, giving the breed their name. Because they reside in forested areas, they cannot breath fire.The breed is naturally smaller, with a smaller wingspan to make flying through dense trees easier. They are swift and agile flyers, although they don’t have a lot of brute strength. Because of their need for quick and light movements, they are also wyverns, only having two legs instead of four.

Amaru, like the rest of his species, also has color-changing scales much like a chameleon. Some of the dragons are more skilled at it than others, but Amaru can mainly shift his scales to different shades of green and brown similar to his environment to better blend in. Brighter, more vibrant colors are more difficult, and the illusion his scales are supposed to create are not nearly as seamless. The people among the group of dragon riders are unsure if this is a usual thing in the breed or if Amaru possesses some block from his full ability.

His natural scale color is a deep green, deepening to a green that is nearly black at his extremities, like the tips of his horns, wings, talons, etc. His eyes are on the larger side to help him to see better in the dark, their deep yellow color also assisting in his night-vision.

Amaru stands at around 13 feet tall, nearly mature. He has five talons on each foot to assist in gripping tree branches when landing, as well as sharp, curved hooks on the arm of his wings to help with his grip.

Amaru is a swift flier and is excellent at landing nearly silently in trees and other hiding places. He, like the rest of his species, is very stealthy and a very strong hunter. His venom is used both for hunting and attacking.

Amaru is not quick to trust other dragons or humans. He is naturally very wary and cautious, and has a very strong fight-or-flight. He is quick to attack if he feels threatened, his venom making him lethal. He will protect those close to him with his life, and is very protective over things that he deems under his care.

Orion Sol Rhyshawke "Rhys"

Pronounced Rise, incorporating all aspects of his name. Very fitting since he was always climbing to the tops of trees as a child, awake with the rising sun.

—

Description

23 Years Old

Born 21st of June, the summer solstice

Male

Heterosexual

Knight of the Royal Guard of the Kingdom of Reyes

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Appearance

Rhys has medium-length wavy/curly raven black hair that blends in with the night sky which he will occasionally pull back into a simple ponytail depending on his mood. His green eyes perfectly mirror the canopy of the trees he loves to climb so dearly, flecks of brown scattered throughout his irises. Some swear they hold glimmers of sunlight within them, gold buried within the brown.

His sun-kissed darker tan skin highlights that he’s outside as often as he can be regardless if he’s working or not, his love for adventure sometimes outweighing his duties as a guard. Rhys’ legs and arms are littered with small scars, no doubt the results of his escapades as a child, falling out of trees, wrestling and playing with others. He was one never to back down from a challenge no matter how dangerous, whether it was to prove something or simply just to show that he could do it out of spite. He’s muscular, toned but still slim standing at 5 foot 10 inches, 145 pounds, rough calloused hands always covered in small nicks from either branches or weapons from training.

Rhys is always seen with a silver chain around his neck, the only piece of jewelry he wears. He never takes it off and won’t tell anyone of its origin, simply stating it’s important to him. His typical appearance outside of uniform is simple black or dark gray leathers or a simple all black outfit with a loose-fitting shirt and tighter pants and black boots.

Personality

Rhys has always been described as being too smart for his own good, his wise mouth earning him more than a few brawls. He always says the truth whether or not it’s good for his health, whatever is on his mind is what comes out of his mouth. He defends his friends fiercely and will fight to the death for them as he has proven numerous times over.

Due to this, once his trust is broken it is impossible to earn back. Promises mean everything to Rhys, words bear heavy significance in his mind. He analyzes what everyone says to find their double meanings and always actively considers what he says unless he’s in a battle of wits or an argument, which is where his sharp tongue supersedes his logic. He always stands up for those who cannot help themselves from any threat, physical or otherwise, helping in any way he can.

Due to his past even though he is quick to enter a battle of wits, he seems incapable of losing his temper, always remaining cool and collected even when his words or tone are irritated. No one can recall a time he’s ever been visibly angry and is always trying to make people laugh even in the worst of moods. He can read emotions very well, his analytical eyes and mind noticing even the most minor details.

Other

Rhys was raised as the son of peasants to a father who was none too fond of his existence who, in his mind, only made his life harder than he deemed he was worthy of. He worked within their home as a tailor and left to the taverns at night which was the only time Rhys could find peace. This is what Rhys’ analytical mind developed from, watching his father to determine his mood and if he needed to stay out all day and return home only to finally sleep.

Hence his leaving his home at first light, getting into trouble as all children do, exploring if only to find an escape. Growing his physique from such a young age caught the attention of older guards who saw the potential for the perfect future knight who “adopted” him and took him with them on their travels and trained him, resulting in his disappearance one day from the Kingdom forever until his return now assigned to be a Royal Guard. It’s been a long time since he’s been home and he is not looking forward to being back. Too many people he’s not looking forward to seeing again

His mother was the opposite, always silently encouraging him to venture out and seek whatever it was that he always seemed to be searching for in the trees, his beautiful eyes always on the horizon. Her little personal sunbeam, awake with the sun everyday and out until past sunset. She worked within the castle in the kitchens and Rhys, her little Sol, would always bring her something he’d found whether it was plants or berries for her to cook or bake with, trinkets he discovered or pieces of wood he carved from trees into simple figurines.

—

Wraith

A terrifying species of dragon known as “Phantom Wind Cleavers” for how silently they fly or “Banshees”, cutting through the air with silent lethal precision. You would never know they were coming if they didn't want you to. They earn the secondary title of “Banshee” from the distinctive high pitched screech their wings make when they want you to know of their presence, the last thing one hears before their death.

Description

115 years old

Hatched 21 December, the winter solstice

Female

Appearance

Wraith is a small but still growing dragon, standing at 10 feet tall with a small but round head and snout adorned with small rounded spikes to diffuse the air around her. She’s 25 feet long with a 45 foot wingspan. Her wings are rounded on the forward edge, ending in spikes similarly to a bat. Her four legs are muscular and thick that end in four toes with (relatively short for a dragon) naturally sharpened claws that are very flexible in order to grab ahold of objects or to catch crevices on rock walls with ease.

Her eyes are completely white with flecks of most pale shades of yellow, orange, red and blue- the colors of the stars. The bright white of her eyes allows her to absorb as much light as possible to have better night vision than the day vision of a bird of prey during the day. She has secondary eyelids to camouflage her further on starless nights, a dark-gray colored membrane to dim the brightness of her eyes. This secondary membrane acts as a sort of sunshade during the day as well, allowing her to actually see.

Her scales are as dark as the night sky as if she were dipped into the void itself, allowing her the perfect camouflage that has helped her species remain only in stories and almost never seen. The underside of her body and wings are the most mesmerizing sight whenever they reflect any light; the same pale shades of yellows, reds and blues visible in her eyes are scattered across her underside so when one is looking up to admire the stars, she blends in perfectly. This however, is only visible in starlight or moonlight, undetectable under any other light source, which has hidden her species from dragon hunters and killers when they nest in their caves during the day.

Willodean knew her father would have her head on a pike if he knew what she was doing. While her siblings were back at the palace learning how to curtsy properly and drink with their pinkies up, she was laying in a meadow with one of the most dangerous creatures in the kingdom. Of course, she already knew how to curtsy and keep her pinkie aloft while she sipped from a cup, so it wasn’t as if she was missing very much.

Amaru was dozing in the tall grass next to her, his long breaths ruffling the blades in front of his nose. Willow was reclined against his side, his wing partially shading her while his scales dug into her back. Her notebook was in hand, absently sketching a distant bundle of pale orange flowers.

The breeze blew gently through the meadow in the forgotten forest where her friends and their beasts resided. The forest had always been rumored to hold dark things, and when it was discovered that those dark things were dragons, everyone inhabiting the land inside and around the forest fled. Although the king knew its location, he was smart enough to know he didn't have the resources to attack. For now, the forest laid untouched, the trees and the surrounding meadows the last true sanctuary the dragons had.

Sunlight dappled the meadow, but the calm of the forest was interrupted by wingbeats. Not an unusual noise here, but these were close. Willodean closed the book, dropping it into her small satchel as she looked up curiously toward the sky. Tree branches rustled, the ground shaking when a dragon landed. She recognized Emeri, one of the other riders. She leapt down from her dragon’s back, her face pinched with urgency.

Willow stood just as Emeri spoke, “Princess, we need you. Something is happening at the palace.”

Willow felt her heart jump to her throat, “The palace? What's happening?”

“The dragons are attacking, they're just outside of the walls. The scouts weren't sure why, but we need to stop it before it escalates.”

Willodean didn't ask any more questions as Emeri climbed back onto her dragon and took off. The noise woke Amaru, the green dragon making a grumbling noise as he pushed himself up. She pulled a dark mask from her satchel, barely remembering that she needed to conceal her face if she wanted to live. Willow scaled his wing as he stood, settling at the base of his neck before urging him into flight.

Her braid whipped behind her as they took to the air, following behind Emeri toward the palace. She seen the fight before they even landed, one dragon hovering midair while another attacked from the ground.

Three other riders were with Willow and Emeri, all used to situations like this by now. The best they could hope for was to keep the dragons from getting too injured. A swarm of knights was already outside of the palace gates, swords drawn and crossbows loaded.

The dragon on the ground, a smaller female with crimson scales, screeched furiously as a stone-tipped arrow embedded itself in her shoulder. Willow could see Amaru growing agitated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl.

One of the other riders gave a high-pitched call, the signal they needed before all of them dove, their dragons locking eyes on their humans targets as they prepared to defend their own. Willow held on tightly as they plummeted toward the earth, leveling out quickly as Amaru snatched a knight in his teeth, his venom making quick work of the victim. Willodean could see her fellow riders wielding their own bows from the corner of her eyes, suddenly furious with herself that she hadn’t taken the time to teach herself how to use weapons. An arrow whizzed by, barely missing Amaru’s wing.

As Amaru banked right to turn again, Willow spotted the cause of the attack. A small dragonet, barely a year old, laid still in the grass, an arrow protruding from it’s stomach. Parents protecting their child.

Willow lost all hope of this being over quickly after that, only holding on tighter to Amaru as he dove for another knight.

Amaru hurtled through the air at a blinding speed, the wind making Willodean’s eyes water, squinting to try and keep them open. Her breath was hot behind her mask, body already exhausted just from hanging onto the green beast. Willow let the dragon choose his own targets, the twinge of guilt in her chest making her a coward. She knew these men and women, had probably passed some of them in the corridors of the castle just hours ago. They served her family, and she was merely watching as they were murdered.

Bodies were falling now, and the ones that were still alive were quickly loosing their nerve. The knights stationed on the ground made a run for the walls, trying to get to higher ground to have a better vantage point.

Amaru swept toward the ground again, grabbing another knight in his talons. He ascended gracefully into the air again, before releasing the knight from his grasp. Willow couldn’t bare to watch what happened after that.

The female dragon roared again, the sound of a grieving mother as she launched herself onto the wall, scooping up another knight before taking off.

The wind whistled in Willow's ears as Amaru dove for the wall as well, landing roughly with an angry roar, wings flaring. Venom mixed with his saliva, coating his teeth before he snapped at another knight, ripping the crossbow from his hands and flinging him over the edge. More soldiers charge from behind them, her dragon's tail swinging to batter them out of the way.

The dragon snatched another knight in his jaws before flying off again, the sheer chaos of it all making Willow’s head spin. This was the opposite of everything she knew and everything she had been raised around.

The remaining knights were beginning to flee all together, trying to escape the claws of death. The feral dragons seemed to have had their fill, both of them taking to the skies, following behind the rest of the riders.

Willodean took back control of Amaru then, guiding him to follow the others. Her heart was still racing, that ever-present fear in the back of her mind. It whispered harshly, the constant worry that someone had seen her, that her father would find out of her betrayal.

Amaru seemed agitated, his breathing heavy and low growls coming from deep in his chest. They had both made it out unscathed, and the others seemed to be in decent shape as well. The two feral dragons soon split off from the rest of the group, traveling back to their home. Only when they were flying over the trees of the dragon’s forgotten forest did Willodean remove her mask, tucking it safely back into her satchel.

The group soon flew under the cover of the trees, gliding through the air now. Some of the adrenaline was beginning to dissipate, and just when she thought they might get out of this without any trouble, her eyes fell on something laying on the forest floor.