Clan Brightclaw

Tiny tidbits of lore! Do these match your dragons at all? 

Arcane: [item=Pink Chalcedony]

Earth [item=Banded Sardonyx]

Fire [item=Jasper]

Ice  [item=blue quartz]

Light  [item=Sacridite]

Lightning [item=Prehnite]

Nature [item=Amber-trapped Mosquito]

Plague [item=Eye Agate]

Shadow [item=amethyst geode]

Water [item=Raw Lapis Lazuli]

Wind  [item=Jade]

The first time it happens, you lost something small. The tip of your tail. Three of your fingers. They smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, it feels a little stiff and you’re pretty sure it’s more like wood than flesh, but otherwise it’s fine. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you automatically agree, more focused on the healed part than what they are saying.

The next time, it’s something bigger. An entire limb. You panic, but when they come, they smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, you’re almost certain it’s more like wood than flesh, but otherwise it’s fine. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you hesitantly agree.

You lose an entire wing. Blood is pouring out the wound and you’re sobbing, thinking you’re gonna bleed to death. When they come, they smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. When they heal you, it’s… not exactly the same. It looks like a wing. It feels like a wing. But it’s not a wing. Under the right conditions you can sort of glide, but you know your days of flying are over. It creaks when you move it, like an old worn chair. It’s more like wood than flesh. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you say nothing. Their smiles get sharper, their eyes get harder. “See, life will always prevail” they hiss, and you stammer out yes.

It happens more and more. You lose something. They come. It’s always easy, it’s always more like wood than flesh, life will always prevail. It continues like that until-

Until the sword goes deep. It cuts straight through your stomach and you can see your organs, threatening to spill. Your life is flashing before your eyes. When they come, they smile. You’re not even surprised to see them anymore. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” they say. The wood that covers your stomach and holds everything in makes it hard to bend over. You’re not quite as flexible as you once were. “See, life will always prevail” they say, and you agree numbly.

That spring, you throw up flower petals.

Years go past. The parts of you that are wood outnumber flesh. You don’t even care. In spring flowers grows all over your body. You don’t even try to stop it when they spill out your mouth anymore. Sap runs through your veins. You spit sweet smelling poison. It coats your teeth and floods your throat. You don’t even choke. Besides, it’s a lot easier going down than flowers are coming up.

When your skull is crushed in and not only do they heal you, you can still see, any part of you that once cared has long died.

You’ve lived longer than any dragon is supposed to. You haven’t left the Viridian Labyrinth in… gods, how many years has it been? You think you lost track about 300 years ago. Or maybe was it 400? You don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. You blend into the landscape because you are the landscape.

Long long ago, you asked them to show you some healing magic. They happily agreed.

You find a young dragon. They lost something small. The tip of their tail. Three of their fingers. You come to them. You smile. “Oh, that’s an easy fix,” you say. When you heal them, it’s almost exactly like it was before. Sure, you know they’ll think it’s a little stiff and you know they’ll be pretty sure it’s more wood than flesh, but you also know that otherwise they’ll think it’s fine.