Information

Nuana
Legacy Name: Nuana

The Galactic Paralix
Owner: Aurafly

Age: 14 years, 3 weeks, 3 days

Born: May 24th, 2010

Adopted: 14 years, 3 weeks, 3 days ago

Adopted: May 24th, 2010

Statistics

• Level: 101
   
• Strength: 252
   
• Defense: 252
   
• Speed: 228
   
• Health: 227
   
• HP: 227/227
   
• Intelligence: 273
   
• Books Read: 271
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Keeper of Justice

Based on a roleplay character. Will be edited soon.

I have seen the sun only once in my lifetime. It was beautiful; it sat behind the breaking clouds, round and glowing like burnished gold and fire, against the vastest, deepest blue, an unimaginable blue, one that paint can never replicate and stories cannot describe.

According to the clock, it was midday. It was the first time I had ever seen the wonder that is called day, something so phenomenal, so... so grand.

I have seen paintings of twilight; the ascension from behind the cliffs, the slow descent into a field of gold, the romantic hues of pink and purple and orange leading into the sweet darkness of dusk and the gentleness of dawn...

There are no paintings of midday, no songs or stories dedicated to its beauty. And yet, I thought it was the greatest thing I had ever seen, and I remember keenly how it brought me to my knees.

If midday is considered to be bland and uninteresting compared to the twilight hours, for it to be taken for granted, I wonder..?

It is my dearest wish to see the sunset and sunrise.

It's not to be, however; wherever I go, the rain follows. Not a day goes by that it doesn't rain, and thunder is my lullaby. It has its own beauty, of course, a sort of soft cleanliness, and puddles are always fun, but it's always, always raining. Birds don't fly in the rain, you cannot sail a kite or watch the clouds, or stargaze, or, or...

I just want to see the sun.

---

My name is Nuana, and I'm alone. It's been that way for a very long time, and whatever company I might have had is long gone.

In fact, I did have company once; I can vaguely remember warm gnarled hands and calloused fingers, gentle in spite of their roughness, an old, loving face that I've long forgotten, and a sweetly crooning voice. Sometimes, I wonder and think of this person - was it my grandmother, grandfather? A kind caretaker, my foster parent?

I don't remember any funerals; all I understand is the worn-out, unmarked gravestone behind my cottage and deep in the garden, and a note left by the person who had loved me so.

"My dearest child, my dreamcloud, darling little sunbeam and sweet-faced moon...

My Nuana.

Don't cry, my raincloud.
Know that you are always loved.
I love you, the rain loves you; someday, someone will find you and love you.

Nuana, don't be afraid."

The letter wasn't signed, and in spite of what it said, I still cried, and still do whenever I read it, because I am always, always overwhelmed by love - my own, and the love in the words and the memories, and I cannot help but grieve for what has been lost.

It's been a long time, but the grief is still too near.

And so, I've been alone. I hear only my voice and the whispers of the rain, and whatever the earth and plants tell me, and the calls of animals all around, and I am alone, knowing only my cottage and the rain.

---

Somehow, the earth doesn't flood or become overly soggy in spite of the perpetual downpour. The plants never drown or wilt, and because of my rain, it never snows or gets hot or cold. I believe the land is enchanted, or has been enchanted because of my caretaker, who must have been a sorcerer of some kind, seeing as how my home is overflowing with spellbooks.

I've searched through every book, learned every spell, familiarized myself with the laws of magic, learned every movement to cast and summon, memorized every ingredient needed for every potion... and even learned the blackest spells, and how to utter them with the utmost fluency.

By rights, I should be a powerful magician - perhaps helping a hero? - capable of blowing the clouds away and finally - finally - seeing the sun. I could even be an evil wizard like the ones in my story books, secluding myself away in a tower and conjuring dragons and shadows for company. Although this thought is entertaining, in spite of the fact that I don't have the heart to be evil or cruel...

In my hands, even darkest of spells are harmless.
My spells will not aid heroes.

I tried many spells - spells to clear the skies, wind spells, even fire spells! - all to no avail.

I cannot use magic, and will never be able to.

My tower is my cottage, my dragons are raindrops, and the only heroes I have are in fairytales.

Pet Treasure

Pet Friends