The Start of a Journey

            Letting his wings snap open to catch the air, buffer his landing, he settled lightly to the ground outside Phaethredun. The petite maid slipped from the golden neck of the dragon, landing deftly before him. She embraced him in a hug as a smile touched his mouth. A single talon stroked the cheek of the fair-haired lady before him. He shimmered, taking on the form of an Elven man, wrapping his arms about the girl. “My pretty gem.”

            She pulled back to look up with adoring eyes. This was one of her favorite times of the day. Just as the sunset turned golden, to take flight with Rogeneaux, the light glinting off his purulent scales; soaring over the city, wheeling around and to the mountains, over the tree lines and the harbor. The dragon blood in her called to the sky, longed for the freedom of flight she found on the back of the Gold, wishing she were fully dragon herself, to jump into the void of space and hang there in the moments before the thermals would lift them.

            With hair the color of pure sunlight and skin just kissed by it, her beauty almost masked the signs that marked her as different. But Rogeneaux saw and noted with pride the woman she had become. From her Elven ears to the gold eyes that marked her as a dragon child of his, she had become the prize gem in his hoard. She had become so much more than he ever could have expected and now…he had to let this jewel slip from his grasp. “Crystelin, I need you to do something.” He explained to her how she was to be leaving Hirath’s City, to go on her own adventure… “test her own wings,” so to speak.

            As ever the grace of her Elven heritage came to the fore. She was ever demure, polite, and gracious to a fault. He couldn’t help the smile, thinking back to the days of her childhood. Even now, an intense curiosity burned within her; held in check, yet still ever lurking right below her surface. She had been intrigued with knowledge of any kind; she read insatiably, despite her troubles writing; she would take things apart, often to the despair of others, just to discover how it worked. He fully expected, and received, excitement at the prospect of an adventure. Fear was not something this young woman thought of first. Always, it was the thrill of what she could learn. Much as he’d love to claim her for Hirath, he saw the path his child’s life was taking. She wasn’t going to become a Gold Defender of Phaethredun, but if this worked, she would still end in service to those of Celestia. The gods would still smile on this gem of his.

            Crystelin left the next morning, sparing few tears for her parents as she looked ahead to the travels she would have with the clerics she was being sent with. Two years she traveled with the servants of the gods, learning and growing in the light Celestia’s favor. She was gently guided by the other clerics towards Rhima ~ a slightly chaotic representation of magic and knowledge. Not a true god, but still within the pantheon, Rhima loved knowledge for the sake of knowledge…almost as much as Crystelin did.

            Under the guidance of the others, she found her footing, a peace and direction now given to her life as she moved forward in the early steps of a cleric. At every turn, she was encouraged to discover, adventure, and attend to her desire for knowledge. Gracious, beautiful, intelligent and versed in etiquette, she was a flawless example of everything her father could have hoped her to be.

            With bundles of maps and the few books she kept with her, she had little else to her name besides her journals. What she learned was often more important than what she had or wore. Her one sign of being of dragon-kin, the journals made up her hoard. They contained all the stories and drawings and knowledge she picked up along her travels. Every so often, when her father would appear, she would send these home to her mother for safe keeping.

            The third year, the group tended to spend more time apart, more time with their own duties to their own gods. Crystelin found herself wandering rather aimlessly, content to stay in whichever town she came to, learning what she could, sharing what was asked for, and moving on again. In this manner, she came to Arleah.