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▬▬▬▬▬ BREATH ⊹ WATER
▬▬▬▬▬ ABILITY ⊹ FREEZING WATER
Tucked in the rosewood shelving of the library are legends and poetry of Níor’s beginnings, of travelers struck by wanderlust who sought out rich, fertile land and the great beasts they found swimming in the clear blue depths of southern waters. Written in ink are tales of floods and heavy rains, of the bravery of adventurers and the guidance of wise beasts, of fighting terrible monsters and of bards charming maddened dragons with song hypnosis. Nonetheless, today the people there live peacefully with the native species, and more so than that, the marquess’ family is particularly close to these dragons, each generation inheriting the responsibility of looking over them from their ocean side, stone château.
Her name is Veðrfölnir, her body slim and several meters long, her opalescent scales are of white tinged with a spectrum of cold blues and her eyes glisten, ethereal and strikingly whimsical. Nicknamed Veo by the children, she’s a tidal dragons raised by Naev’s mother, born a decade before he had entered the world, and as his bones grew thicker and his hair longer their bond reverberated, maturing into a synchronization and a state of unwavering trust. As a child Naev was easy to frighten, afraid of shadows and prone to hiding behind his mother’s skirts – always holding tears in the corners of his eyes, always curling trembling fingers into his palms. But he could only remain so cowardly when his mother gave birth to new children, when he needed to become strong for his little siblings, and by Veo’s side he found that courage to stand up straight, with his head held high.
Hiding his fears became a form of obsession, it meant bandaging his fingers to cover blisters and only viewing the world through windows and open books. He learned of geography, physics, and literature, he played piano during evenings and spent countless hours in gardens with an open book. Naev can eat any food with practiced etiquette and can name off species of flowers with relative ease, yet he has never forged close friendships nor he has never stepped far from his comfort zone. It seems he will forever just stick to his studies and never demand anything for himself, his head heavy with the weight of possibility – and if there’s a possibility he’ll fall, he will instead stay firmly planted onto the ground.
Berk is a strange, faraway place and Naev feels completely foreign while attending the Dragon Academy, although he never lets his anxiety and unease show upon his face. To live alongside dragons was natural for the people of Níor, but to ride them so casually was an idea born from something bizarre. Yet Naev’s father came to him, speaking of international relations and progression, and with his apprehension pressed at the back of his throat Neav agreed – after all, what else was he to do? Always near the top of his class Naev tutors other students and excels at anything academic, and Veo continues to languidly swim in the waters, playing with local children while her companion frets over studies at the ocean side, one never too far from the other.