Story time :3 °•*⁀➷ Raja was the last pureblood of his kind. Actually, he was pretty sure he was the last, period. Over the hundreds of years that humans had crept onto the little island he called home, dragons had slowly disappeared - hunted down, or else fleeing from the sickening smog that rolled from human cities as they spread like a parasite. The ones who stayed? They had been forced to breed with other spirits to survive. Fire with Water, Earth with Air - bloodlines once sacred now tangled together. It was almost laughable, how quickly they’d unraveled into survival instinct, when purity had once been everything. And him? He was the last fragment of untouched Fire Spirit blood. He shook his head, eyes narrowing as he gazed down at the humans far below at the base of the mountain. Not even the looming volcano deterred them. If anything, they seemed drawn to it, building their strange cities close to its vents and siphoning its heat for power. Odd little beings, with their odd rituals. Then again, everything was odd about the fleshy little beings. A snort of flame burst from his nostrils as his tail lashed behind him. The lush forest he had grown up in was gone - trees toppled, the soil torn open, rivers turned to sludge so foul it tasted sour on his tongue. His home was barely recognizable anymore. Raja twisted his head toward the volcano rising behind him, calculating the cost. Every Fire Spirit carried the power to command a volcano. But now, with him the last, only he had the power to do so. One push, and the mountain would erupt. The humans would be wiped away. But so too would his home be scarred. Was it worth it? He thought of it often, not because he despised his land, but because he hated to see it in ruin. Maybe a restart was what it needed. The hybrids would endure - they always did. And without humans, maybe the island could heal. With a lash of his tail, he drove his claws deep into the mountainside, pressing his will into the veins of fire below. The volcano pulsed beneath him, restless, eager. His anger fed its molten heart, and the ground shuddered, the low growl swelling into a roar. His eyes snapped open. He bellowed into the sky as the mountain’s crown split apart, fire and molten stone spewing upward in a violent rush. Lava surged like searing blood, tearing the heavens apart with a thunderous cry. In seconds, ash blotted out the sun. Shadows swallowed the island, while hot cinders rained in sheets. The blast wave followed, a wall of force so powerful it shoved his wings forward and nearly ripped him from the rock. Below, the city was obliterated - buildings torn up like straw, lives snuffed out in an instant. Raja watched, unflinching. It would be centuries before forgiveness found him, if it ever did. But then maybe, in that silence, the island would finally have the chance to breathe again. °•*⁀➷ ☼ Name: Raja ☼ Age: Around 300 years old ☼ Build: Towering, wings broad enough to eclipse the sun ☼ Abilities: ⟴Command of volcanic fire and molten earth ⟴Immunity to smoke, ash, and flame ⟴A roar strong enough to rattle the bones of mountains ☼ Personality: Solemn, ancient, and wearied by time. Raja carries both the pride of his people and the grief of their extinction. He is not cruel, but he is uncompromising - to him, survival and balance outweigh the fleeting lives of humans. He torn between guardian and destroyer. Woarh, I completed it two weeks, 37 layers and 2,007 strokes later. Anyway, my lazy butt might just apply for this one dragon lol. Art by Song is Lightbringer by Far Too Loud
