CASIMIRA
dragon-shifting daughter of ashhal and ryatah
She remembers what she had been like as a child; something so entirely different than she is now. Her and Cassian had been wild and carefree, impossible for their easily distracted mother to keep track of. Adventurous and determined, Casimira had been so delighted when she first discovered that she could shift into a dragon — something that was completely her own. There hadn’t been issues in the beginning. She could fully shift at will, and maintain her senses. It was not until she grew older—two years old, maybe three—that she began to lose control.
It came in brief fits of rage, fire-bright but short lived. Until those moments began to stretch into hours, until some nights she awoke in Tephra with the taste of blood still on her tongue and charred bones at her feet. She began to shift less and less, suddenly afraid of this part of herself that she could no longer control.
The day that Loess set Tephra alight had been the tipping point for her. Reborn from a single one of her dragon scales that had been left behind after the star-dappled mare had shattered her to pieces, she had vowed to never shift again. It was not until she came to live in Hyaline with Breach that she began to practice again, and though she had made it through the Alliance without losing herself, she was still tentative.
She doesn't feel any envy when Savior says that he has always known; instead she just feels admiration. “It was exciting at first. I liked having something that set me apart from my twin, and everyone else in our family.” She pauses, her thoughts becoming heavy, and it shows in the slow way the words leave her tongue. “It feels more like a curse now. I think if I woke up and it was gone I would not miss it.”
She does not like that she has turned their conversation to something negative, and so she lifts her head to press her lips to the fire-opal of his cheek. “You’re different from the other dragons I have met,” she says, her ice-blue eyes studying him with the faintest of smiles touching her lips. “I think you are maybe the only good one to ever live.”
@[savior]