[ Oh my Gawd okay. I will fill in the gaps as much as possible. For the creepers readers who are familiar with the Hive story, this happens WAY later in the story. Things are very different and happen much, much later. ]
On an island far, far away from the human-populated Dead Coast, was a clan of powerful and graceful Paragon. A clan that had grown both underwater and on land, and which had adapted to both environments with no difficulty. A structured clan known as the Timber Shore made its home in a thick, generous forest, along with a deep underwater world, mixing the two into a beautiful mix to give purpose to both wingless and flight-born Paragon.
It was a peaceful clan, with no major dramatic or troubling backstory. Human-dwelling Paragon who had made their home first in Dead Coast had grown endangered due to the human's pollution and bad care towards them. Feeling threatened, a group of Paragon had left the human-populated area by sea and swam for days until a new home appeared before them. Finding a small beach by the island, they also felt compelled to hunt for red meat and nest in more stable dens. Unable to live only within one environment, the clan settled for both water and land, ultimately creating arguably the first clan to adapt so perfectly to two completely different environments.
With such an uneventful history, the clan had never experienced much chaos or disorganization. While it was familiar to strangers and wild Paragon, the clan had never been exposed to meeting a fully-functioning clan of Paragon just like them.
And a few months ago, that was exactly what had happened to the Shore. Quite literally out of the blue, a whole clan of Paragon — and no small one, either — had landed into their territory, beaten, injured, heartbroken, exhausted, drained, and every other word one could think of. In a nutshell, the Shore had invited an entire clan to stay with them on their territory in order to give them some time to think and organize their future. The Shore had no idea who they had invited over until the clan leader spoke of their name: the Dragon Hive, one of the biggest clan there was. Even the Shore, as far away as it was, had heard of them. The story of how such a big clan could've fallen was an amazing story in itself.
Along the long, beautiful shore of the clan, was the source of the tragedy, sitting only with himself and his own thoughts.
The one who had once looked like a beautiful Paragon of pure white and soft blues was now far from his former beauty. His body was now scarred with scratches and injuries, leaving his hues duller. One of his Crystal wings was now missing, a single awkward stump of crystal sitting on his shoulder, while the other wing remained tucked against his side, incapable of doing anything on its own. A sullen look on his face that was once bright and cheerful, and most of all: hopeful. The only thing that was left was this shell of a body that had, since that incident, lost any worth it ever had.
Months ago, Izotz had proved how unworthy he had been as the leader of the Dragon Hive. Caught off-guard, the mountain was attacked mercilessly by Jezebel and her clan of exiles. Although they tried to cope and most Paragon were evenly matched on both sides, the tie breaker was a battle between leaders, namely, between Izotz and Jezebel herself. While far from being a bad fighter, and actually sporting fairly impressive fighting skills, Izotz had been overpowered by the Voidbringer. Had it not been for the Hive holding her back all together, the Frost could easily bet that he would've died on the battlefield on that day.
Today, when reflecting about it all, he somewhat wished it had happened this way.
When his Paragon followers held back the invader, Izotz gave the order to escape, run away from the mountain. The damage had already been done: he had lost the fight against Jezebel as a leader, the mountain had been destroyed and damaged by Jezebel's Paragon, and the worst of it all had been the fact that Paragon had died during the fight. While there were more, the two that did come to mind were Mercury and Makari. The former's hatchlings, whom had been born without their mother, were now without their father; the latter left his elder brother feeling guilty and inadequate, while leaving his mother completely heartbroken. Most of the younger Paragon had been evacuated first, so young ones like Sequoia's and Sanjiv's hatchlings were safe, including all of Mercury's children. Still, losing Paragon was never a joyful thing, and the worst part of it all was that Izotz had been the cause of their death and of the agony that now plagued their loved ones.
To top it all of, those who still believed in Jezebel's practice changed sides after the escape. Palmer was one of them, leaving the Hive with not much of an explanation. If it hadn't been for Teofila, Izotz could've imagined Tapio leaving as well. Fortunately, the Lavamancer had pulled through and stayed with his original clan.
The damages left the Hive homeless, with about one fourth of the clan dead, and a good handful leaving for the winning team. And if Izotz had been a good leader, none of this would've turned out the way it had.
That was exactly why he wasn't the Hive's leader any longer. He had willingly given up the position after the incident, unable to live with the guilt that was now eating him from the inside every single day and night of his life. Despite them living under the jurisdiction of another clan, the leader of the Timber Shore had allowed them to keep to themselves as far as organization went. As such, Harlow was now the new leader in charge of the Hive: the way it should've been from the very beginning. Only now did Izotz realize how much of a mistake it was to accept the position back then, and how foolish it had been not to give it to Harlow from the beginning.
Under the Ambia's new lead, the Hive immediately moved from the plains. Harlow's logic was that Jezebel would be pleased now, happy: she had the Hive. She took back what she'd always felt was rightfully hers. By moving far, far away from their original home, the Ambia figured it would finally draw the story to a close, riding them of the Voidbringer's tyranny. It was all about starting anew, even if the very beginning would be hard. And right now, the hard part was finding their very own territory, and a place to call home again.
It was during those travels that the Hive met the Shore. Their hospitality was very welcome, especially considering how drained and exhausted everyone was. The two clans were fairly similar; the most obvious change was the different ranks. The scouts were called sentinels, and the hunters kept their name, although they also had fishers for seafood. The Shore seemingly had no other major rank, the way the Hive had had the Keepers; which left many Paragon a little taken aback by having to adapt to different positions. Fortunately, the leader had been benevolent and understanding enough to let them do cleaning tasks and other such chores in order to let the Hive adapt to the major change of lifestyle. Izotz was thankful that the leader was so understanding of their situation, even if he figured it wouldn't last forever.
The story kept playing in his head every day, every night, and the battle often appeared in his sleep as terrible nightmares that left him waking up in a jolt. Very few Paragon interacted with him anymore, considering he held no prestigious rank anymore, and since he was also flightless.
What was he supposed to do now? Where he would go from here? Would he ever be able to help his clan the right way?
"There's no word to explain all the wrongs you've done," the Frost whispered quietly and sadly to his reflection, empty eyes staring right back, looking almost like both images were but two illusions of the same thing.
On an island far, far away from the human-populated Dead Coast, was a clan of powerful and graceful Paragon. A clan that had grown both underwater and on land, and which had adapted to both environments with no difficulty. A structured clan known as the Timber Shore made its home in a thick, generous forest, along with a deep underwater world, mixing the two into a beautiful mix to give purpose to both wingless and flight-born Paragon.
It was a peaceful clan, with no major dramatic or troubling backstory. Human-dwelling Paragon who had made their home first in Dead Coast had grown endangered due to the human's pollution and bad care towards them. Feeling threatened, a group of Paragon had left the human-populated area by sea and swam for days until a new home appeared before them. Finding a small beach by the island, they also felt compelled to hunt for red meat and nest in more stable dens. Unable to live only within one environment, the clan settled for both water and land, ultimately creating arguably the first clan to adapt so perfectly to two completely different environments.
With such an uneventful history, the clan had never experienced much chaos or disorganization. While it was familiar to strangers and wild Paragon, the clan had never been exposed to meeting a fully-functioning clan of Paragon just like them.
And a few months ago, that was exactly what had happened to the Shore. Quite literally out of the blue, a whole clan of Paragon — and no small one, either — had landed into their territory, beaten, injured, heartbroken, exhausted, drained, and every other word one could think of. In a nutshell, the Shore had invited an entire clan to stay with them on their territory in order to give them some time to think and organize their future. The Shore had no idea who they had invited over until the clan leader spoke of their name: the Dragon Hive, one of the biggest clan there was. Even the Shore, as far away as it was, had heard of them. The story of how such a big clan could've fallen was an amazing story in itself.
Along the long, beautiful shore of the clan, was the source of the tragedy, sitting only with himself and his own thoughts.
The one who had once looked like a beautiful Paragon of pure white and soft blues was now far from his former beauty. His body was now scarred with scratches and injuries, leaving his hues duller. One of his Crystal wings was now missing, a single awkward stump of crystal sitting on his shoulder, while the other wing remained tucked against his side, incapable of doing anything on its own. A sullen look on his face that was once bright and cheerful, and most of all: hopeful. The only thing that was left was this shell of a body that had, since that incident, lost any worth it ever had.
Months ago, Izotz had proved how unworthy he had been as the leader of the Dragon Hive. Caught off-guard, the mountain was attacked mercilessly by Jezebel and her clan of exiles. Although they tried to cope and most Paragon were evenly matched on both sides, the tie breaker was a battle between leaders, namely, between Izotz and Jezebel herself. While far from being a bad fighter, and actually sporting fairly impressive fighting skills, Izotz had been overpowered by the Voidbringer. Had it not been for the Hive holding her back all together, the Frost could easily bet that he would've died on the battlefield on that day.
Today, when reflecting about it all, he somewhat wished it had happened this way.
When his Paragon followers held back the invader, Izotz gave the order to escape, run away from the mountain. The damage had already been done: he had lost the fight against Jezebel as a leader, the mountain had been destroyed and damaged by Jezebel's Paragon, and the worst of it all had been the fact that Paragon had died during the fight. While there were more, the two that did come to mind were Mercury and Makari. The former's hatchlings, whom had been born without their mother, were now without their father; the latter left his elder brother feeling guilty and inadequate, while leaving his mother completely heartbroken. Most of the younger Paragon had been evacuated first, so young ones like Sequoia's and Sanjiv's hatchlings were safe, including all of Mercury's children. Still, losing Paragon was never a joyful thing, and the worst part of it all was that Izotz had been the cause of their death and of the agony that now plagued their loved ones.
To top it all of, those who still believed in Jezebel's practice changed sides after the escape. Palmer was one of them, leaving the Hive with not much of an explanation. If it hadn't been for Teofila, Izotz could've imagined Tapio leaving as well. Fortunately, the Lavamancer had pulled through and stayed with his original clan.
The damages left the Hive homeless, with about one fourth of the clan dead, and a good handful leaving for the winning team. And if Izotz had been a good leader, none of this would've turned out the way it had.
That was exactly why he wasn't the Hive's leader any longer. He had willingly given up the position after the incident, unable to live with the guilt that was now eating him from the inside every single day and night of his life. Despite them living under the jurisdiction of another clan, the leader of the Timber Shore had allowed them to keep to themselves as far as organization went. As such, Harlow was now the new leader in charge of the Hive: the way it should've been from the very beginning. Only now did Izotz realize how much of a mistake it was to accept the position back then, and how foolish it had been not to give it to Harlow from the beginning.
Under the Ambia's new lead, the Hive immediately moved from the plains. Harlow's logic was that Jezebel would be pleased now, happy: she had the Hive. She took back what she'd always felt was rightfully hers. By moving far, far away from their original home, the Ambia figured it would finally draw the story to a close, riding them of the Voidbringer's tyranny. It was all about starting anew, even if the very beginning would be hard. And right now, the hard part was finding their very own territory, and a place to call home again.
It was during those travels that the Hive met the Shore. Their hospitality was very welcome, especially considering how drained and exhausted everyone was. The two clans were fairly similar; the most obvious change was the different ranks. The scouts were called sentinels, and the hunters kept their name, although they also had fishers for seafood. The Shore seemingly had no other major rank, the way the Hive had had the Keepers; which left many Paragon a little taken aback by having to adapt to different positions. Fortunately, the leader had been benevolent and understanding enough to let them do cleaning tasks and other such chores in order to let the Hive adapt to the major change of lifestyle. Izotz was thankful that the leader was so understanding of their situation, even if he figured it wouldn't last forever.
The story kept playing in his head every day, every night, and the battle often appeared in his sleep as terrible nightmares that left him waking up in a jolt. Very few Paragon interacted with him anymore, considering he held no prestigious rank anymore, and since he was also flightless.
What was he supposed to do now? Where he would go from here? Would he ever be able to help his clan the right way?
"There's no word to explain all the wrongs you've done," the Frost whispered quietly and sadly to his reflection, empty eyes staring right back, looking almost like both images were but two illusions of the same thing.