Chapter 1: filth under frost
"And his blood boiled so hot, even his armor started to crackle and bend."
Known as the White Dragon, the Silver Dragon, or many other descriptive names, Nathaniel is a hatchling of winter and frost. Even in his current, more pathetic form, he is unmoved by cold, or even freezing temperatures.
Having an undisclosed, more intimate alias, only one person has been known to be allowed to call the dragon Nati. Nowadays, no one calls him such, and it is extremely unwise even for that specific former partner to do so. It is advisable to call Nathaniel by his full name, as abbreviations such as Nate, or Nathan, ignite a spark of frigid ire, and often end in conflict.
While anything that crosses the standards of his pride is likely to end in a violent outburst, such behavior is cumbersome for the cords of his purse of gold. Being vain, and narcissistic about his appearance, scars are strictly out of question. Even though keeping his physical appearance up to his and his audience's standards is only smart, the amount of coin Nathaniel has to toss to keep himself in tiptop shape could be considered absurd. A lot of that money goes into potent, magical items, that prevent wounds healing into ugly and undesirable flaws.
To satisfy the need of constant, hefty income, Nathaniel gathers funds from a faceless, passionate crowd. Such a choice in profession even encourages his zealous self-admiration, as he is endorsed to speak and act a certain way in front of a lens.
Nathaniel is obsessive over the ability of flight that he now lacks. The hideous cursemark inked just under his skin is like an everlasting statement of scorn, deliberately scraped at the site of his once-graceful wings. Damned to forever tread the filth below, rather than soar above in the clean air, he deems most of the land-dwelling life forms unworthy of his nigh-divine attention. He is biased towards nearly every living creature that is not a mighty dragon, as even wyverns are considerably less-than in his eyes.
The grudge Nathaniel carries in his very chest drowns the trails under his hatred and ego as he strides them. Only crimes the most heinous would impose a sentence eternal as unbearable as his. Some tell, that a nation burned because of him - and few say, for the best.
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