| icewing | female | animus enchanted "healer" |
curse
caladrius, like her name proposes, is a dragon involved with healing, yet she cannot ease the suffering of her patients, nor assist their ailments. no, all she can do is understand who is going to die.
she cannot do anything about it, sadly, only know that the faint tingly resonance in her skull is the premonition forewarned of someone's oncoming passage to the spirit realm.
she wasn't always like this, she was a simple caretaker of the sick and dying in possibility. death wasn't strange to her, but an acquaintance, she did not mourn the loss of her patients. she only made their remaining time on earth more pleasurable. apathetic, perhaps, but she could not allow herself to feel for them, or she would lapse into the endless abyss of hopelessness too.
but then, one day, she met her. moonstone. a seawing dragoness, of her own age. a gypsy, who traveled place to place offering shabbily crafted jewelry for shelter and sustenance. the moment moonstone's azure eyes met her own matte grey ones, they felt a deep, unmistakable flame of caring.
but it was not a fairy tale, no matter how deeply caladrius loved her, because stone, was her patient. unlike the others though, she knew not of what ailed her. it was not a disease, or a plague, especially not an obvious flesh-wound either.
this drove caladrius to the point of depriving herself of rest or food. pacing in her chambers at night, or speaking softly to her loved one.
as months faded along with her other patient's lives, moonstone's health grew worse.
the icewing could not manage to see her chest heave to hack out blood, or how dull her once shining orbs had grew. no, now was time to take action. desperate action.
one night she threw on her cloak and flew. flew to the brinks of the ice kingdom where a renowned enchantress resided. she reached it, with painstaking hours of exhaustion and frostbite, she collapsed at the mouth of the cavern.
to meet a glistening pale blue dragoness.
caladrius eagerly spilled out her troubles to her, begging her to somehow heal the one she cared for. the icewing listened, her great horned head rattling in attention.
"please, somehow, let me know what is wrong with her, let me, see the ailment? feel it, in my bones, so I can fix her..."
deep in her heart, caladrius knew the animus could heal the seawing with her words, but she was too prideful in her own accomplishments to ask for that. she believed she could save her herself. she didnt need magic for that.
"is that your wish?" asked the elder, quietly, the little white creature nodded,
"very well... but, as you must know, everything has a price."
caladrius flew home on light wings, throwing open the door to what she thought would be embracing her over in open arms. but what she approached, was nothing short of a hellish nightmare.
moonstone was doubled over, sprawled across the floor, breathes shallow.
a scream escaped her mouth as she rushed to her side, taking her shaking webbed talon in her own, gelid one.
and then, she felt it, a sharp, biting sensation to the left of her head. vibrating and pulsating like energy. she cringed in pain, as she watched the light fade from her own lover's eyes...
moonstone was dead.
after months of grieving, she attempted to save a small dragonet with a minor ailment. to her agitation, she could not. it was as if every memory of her lifelong study in medicine had been crudely scrubbed away...
the dragonet was seen by another healer, and caldadrius was demoted to tending the sides of deathly sick patients. with the painfully familiar feeling left and right, she fled the hospital, returning to her homeland.
she vaguely went back to the animus's cave, unsurprised to see it vacant except for a rather watchful family of wolves.
disconcerted, she returned in shame to her kingdom. walking the streets. she occasionally finds work in nervous first circles, who fear their demise is upon them. she proves or disproves that notion...
but always flinching as she approaches those at death's door, for it reminds her of her departed soulmate.
appearance
caladrius, unlike her name supposes, is not a lithe, light-boned being of avian beauty. instead, she is rather short, sturdy and rounded, which, is indeed strange for an icewing.
her snout is neither long, nor pronounced. lacking that defined jawbone, and hierarchical structure her tribe usually possesses.
one could describe her face as dog -like, not in ugly appearance, but in close resemblance to a wolf or malmute.
her limbs are muscular, yet her body is malnourished and thin, with ribs showing, and a pitifully ragged tail. she cares little for her own health, often going weeks without food, and days without sleep.
her scales are matte, without any ostentatious glitter or shine to them. nothing but a dull white, highlighted with pale greys. her eyes are black, sharp, and calculating. emotionless, but pained.
most of the icicle like spines forming a ruff down her neck are split in two, or shattered. scars from surgical utensils slice along her talons and forearms.
a simple pair of quartz lenses spectacles and a string of pearls around her throat decorate her. both being gifts from her deceased lover.
her face always wears a mournful, exhausted expression on it, and her posture is poor. shoulders slumping, and snout tilted downwards. her obsidian eyes avoid contact, as she brushes past others.
personality
history