Spirit the Arctic Chirrup
The Glacier Rreign
Age: 3 years, 4 months, 1 week
Born: February 5th, 2016
Adopted: 3 years, 4 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: February 5th, 2016
This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!
- Level: 96
- Strength: 201
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 697
- Books Read: 689
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Couture Designer
**The White Dragon**
Think toward the future.”
Anne McCaffrey, The White Dragon
The realm of Sérëdhiel (pronounced Sare-ay-thee-ell), Elven Snow Queen of the lands beyond Arctic Frost, is one of light and frozen beauty. Winter is long beneath the feathered spines of the ancient evergreens, yet the tundra creatures know the joys of spring as surely as their cousins in the lower lands. To the glacier rreigns and frost-furred anyus that call the Caverns of Ice their home, there is great beauty in the sparse but colorful blossoms that explode on the few warmest days of the year.
The ice castle of Sérëdhiel sits on the peak of the tallest mountain, glimmering like a diamond in the sun. Even in midsummer, the peaks of the mountains are never without snow. Her benevolent magic calls the aurora borealis as a sign of hope during that half of the year when the land is cast into night.
Silazia gladly serves the needs of her queen when the need arises, never forgetting how Sérëdhiel took her in as a hatchling, teaching her the secrets of shape shifting and advanced telepathy. The young dragon can project her thoughts across hundreds of miles where once she could barely interpret the stream of pictures that entered her mind uninvited at all hours of the day and night.
Her cave is split to suit the needs of her human and dragon forms. At the moment she is perched on a small wooden stool carved from a fallen spruce, a fragrant bench that was shaped by an apprentice of Vanya. Her ivory dress falls in neat folds around her slender body as she waits patiently for the hourglass above the stove to run out of grains.
The last grain of sand activates a spell placed upon the gilded base of the hourglass, chiming a warning that it is time to see to the oven. Even in her human form, Silazia needs no protective mitts to pull the freshly baked loaf of bread from her oven.
Today's culinary creation is a loaf of cranberry almond sweet bread, originally made as a holiday tradition in Veta Lake to celebrate Vesnali. Silazia's fascination for the cultures of Subeta stretches into her love of cooking. To date, she has attempted to bake over one hundred and twenty bread recipes collected in her travels from the warm shores of Delphi to the smoky and sinister cliffs of Darkside. There are only two ingredients you will never find in Silazia's kitchen. She cannot tolerate oats or peanut butter, even in small amounts.
She cuts a large hunk of bread, munching without ever spilling a crumb as she passed out of the kitchen and through the library containing two thousand books and nearly as many scrolls. Spirit leaps down from the plump velvet cushion shaped to fit the contours of his body. A soft glow of pleasure fills his body as Silazia passes him a small chunk of bread. She sees no shame in spoiling the minion that has remained her dearest friend through their many adventures together.
She transforms as the smaller portion of her cave opens into the wide caverns that provide ample living quarters for a grown dragon. It is an ideal place for her to stretch her wings and take flight on those days when the cold is too bitter even for a dragon born in ice.
The Chamber can be accessed only through magical means. Her magical abilities both spoken and telepathic are tremendous. She serves the Elven Queen at times when the realm is in great peril, looking to a fat crystal set in the wall which takes on a subtle red glow to alert her to her Queen's call.
The crystal glows blue today, a sign that she has been granted a rare respite from the usual chaos.
She sees to it that Spirit is comfortably settled on his cushioned bed in The Chamber before she makes her approach on the Treasure Room. The first test involves physical strength, requiring her to dodge shadow blades that would leave no mark but would lay her flat with terrible nightmares until another being trained in the ways of magic chose to free her. She knows the dance so well by now that she gives no thought to the complicated pattern. She must next perfectly recite the lines of the Sorceror's Prayer in the language of Old Magic or risk a net of light that will snare her body and teleport her to the cliffs of Udon Peril for the next five hundred years. The final step requires Spirit. The Arctic Chirrup flies the length of the spelled corridor, easily avoiding the shadow blades and coming to stand beside Silazia with a chirrup sound for which his species was named.
Silazia transforms to her human form, allowing the air spirit before the gem-encrusted door to pass through her body in both forms. Every fiber of her being is tested, as is her minion. There is no fooling an air spirit with clever disguises or mimicry spells. The best mimic cannot hope to perfect every flaw of both a human and dragon body.
The pair passes into the Treasure Room at last. Every shelf and inch of floor space is filled with treasures of unspeakable value, from gem-encrusted crowns that once served as the symbols of empires to goblets that never run dry or reduce any poison to harmless water. As a dragon, Silazia's tough hide turns the mound of golden trinkets at the back into a comfortable perch from which she can do her best thinking.
She casts out her thoughts, communicating with those friends that call the tundra home. She rarely invites visitors into even the more innocent sections of her home. Why force them to trek the icy passages when she can so easily learn their thoughts and grant hers in return through telepathy?
The lines of thought break off gently as the warmth and light of her trove washes over her body, soothing her into deep sleep.