Information

Eldrir
Legacy Name: Eldrir

The Common Darkonite
Owner: VioletSky

Age: 15 years, 1 month, 1 week

Born: April 26th, 2011

Adopted: 14 years, 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: July 23rd, 2011

Nominate Pet for Spotlight

Statistics

• Level: 6
   
• Strength: 13
   
• Defense: 13
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 12
   
• HP: 13/12
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

Eldrir Prince. He used to be human, once, a very long time ago. Not anymore. He wanders, lonely as a ghost, for he practically is one. White as a cloud in every aspect, from his hair to his eyes to his skin, he bears an unearthly appearance. They call him The Pale Prince in some places. But that was the past. The dark throne, the cat doll, the black castle, the red stars, all in the past. Eldrir tries not to remember those days, but it was they who stripped him of his humanity, who gave him his name, his pale face. Eldrir used to be handsome. There are those who say he still is, for he hasn't aged a day since he was first chained to the throne. He is, I suppose, beautiful in a melancholy sort of way. His face is surely attractive, but always bears a look of sorrow. He is so sad, all the time. Poor Eldrir. He wants to forget, but can't. It must be terrible to be unable to forget. His hair is white and glossy and flows down his back in a curly mane. His eyes, beautiful large eyes, with a multitude of white lashes, darkened by mascara, have irises as white as the snow. He wears a fair amount of eye makeup, in an effort to disguise his unnaturally pale lashes. It is supposed to make him look more human, but only serves to emphasize the bright white of his irises. He's given up on blush, thankfully. Poor Eldrir. Whenever he sees a black cat in the street he starts up in alarm. Another relic from the castle days. Poor baby. I look after him as best as I can, but he still cries out in the night, jolting up in alarm next to me, screaming. He is incomprehensible when he gets like that. Poor baby. It always takes many kisses and many caresses to soothe him back to sleep. Poor, poor baby. Oh, but you mustn't think we're lovers. I'm more like poor Eldrir's mother than anything. He requires a lot of care, and I'm the one who gives it. He jumps at shadows, hears screams in the night, feels the chains around his ankles, sees the chair and the cat everywhere he goes. I'm the one who assures him that the noises he hears and the things he sees aren't real. He doesn't believe me, of course, so I tell him that I won't let them hurt him, and that I'll always be there to protect him. And he, he cries himself back to sleep, shuddering in my arms as I stroke his white hair. But here's where it gets messy. A while back, I thought; hey, Eldrir's afraid of everything, right? So, what if I gave him some item that I told him would protect him from all harm, making him afraid of nothing? It seemed like such a good idea at the time, as I fashioned a beautiful mask in the likeness of the face of a Jack-in-the-Box. It wasn't. The first time he put it on, it was wonderful. He stopped suddenly crying out in the night, he stopped jumping at shadows and screaming at the sight of black cats. It was lovely. Then he killed a man who laughed at his pale eyes. For the mask, you see, not only released him from his fear of his past, but from the fear of the authorities, of retaliation, of pain, of death itself. He became alarmingly reckless. So I took the mask and locked it in a mahogany chest, and things went back to being the way they were. Except now, Eldrir longs for that release from fear. He has tried to open the chest several times now. Thus far, I have been able to stop him. I dread to think of what could happen if I fail...

Pet Treasure

Pet Friends