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Clean Gen6, Björklund line pure
"Memento Mori, leaves a debt”
Notable Cubs:
- Saiph (Patches; Charred)
- Albireo (Overgrown Tongue)
- Edasich (Patches; Charred)
- Dabih (Patches; Charred)
- Elizabeth (Patches; Charred)
- Char’Coal (Patches; Charred)
- Cepheus (Albino)
- Alioth (Patches; Charred)
Kinged; 3/7/2023 0 years 3 months
Sub-male stats:
-Total patrols; 0
-Total stats gained; 0
-Total items gained; 0
Items Used;
Windfall base, Proteles Scarce, 4 RMAs, Nacre Marking, Marking Removal (x3 or 4), Marking Replacer, Guardian Vitilgo, 4 Giant Tortoise, Broken Drones, Protea Marking Applicator
Noctis Points (Slot 12)
He is a WIP
LORE UNDER CONSTRUCTION
He is born with his mother’s unique patches and nothing much else. His father, Rasalas Björklund the Maneater, is disappointed his power shows so little. He had wanted a heir, and he got one— only the ilk is like nothing of what Rasalas dreamed of. His mother, Dziban; however, is besotted to have another with her unique power over flame. She spoils him and his siblings, whispering of life lessons imparted late at night and early in the morning. The young cub looks to his mother with eyes the same sickly green as she, all adoration and love.
Rasalas, growing in age and agitated with running the pride— is impatient. He takes his son and brings him to the clearing his power constructed when he was made successor. It is a cold, barren place, hardly any shrubbery to cover one from others. He sets his cub down in the center, lets the cosmos’ gaze upon him and chants. He does not care that his son is too young for this, only for the end goal of being able to enter deep sleep.
So, the ritualistic words of the Right of Succession tumbled from his maw. His features forming around the words with a demented grin. And right there for any to look upon, he bestowed the name Thuban Björklund to the three month old fae-cub.
The father did not care of the pain filled screams and cries. He only watched in glee as the once chocolate furred, mark less young fae was saturated in the Björklund‘s fae power. Rasalas was giddy with his happiness, pink eyes flaring in the moonlight. He felt the transferring of power, and gleamed with pride as he watched the transformation take place.
The fae-cub’s screams puttered out as he passed out, unknowing of the wondrous colors sprouting on his coat as his body accepted the previous generations of power. His chocolate coat became vivid with the colors of the sunset, matching wonderfully with the mane he inherited from his father. It didn’t last long, to Rasalas’ short lived contempt. It fell to the ground in pitiful waves, the stress of this transformation on the child’s body too much. Wings gruesomely sprouted from his back, leaving blood trails behind. His body rapidly grew, bones cracking and popping out of place until he finally settled.
By the time Dziban realized her cub was no longer sleeping by her side, she was beside herself with worry and grief. When she reached the barren, desolate clearing of where Rasalas’ power was strongest, she was filled with rage. Her innocent baby was forced to grow far too fast, in the most painful and invalidating way. Red had covered her vision and she charged at the now retired King, nimbly jumping over her now grown baby. It was a clash of power, one of which she lost and earned the lowest ranking in the pride. She did not care.
When the newly crowned Björklund woke days later, he had no idea what had happened. He thought he was still a cub, not grown. Though the power bestowed upon him grew him into the fae-lion he now is, he did not have the life experience nor the maturity one gets as they naturally grow. He was so oblivious to his new stature as King that he tried to play with the other cubs, and be as he had always been until that fateful night. It left him stunned when he was rejected by the cubs who had not known of their littermate’s fate, and with that rejection Thuban tried to find answers with the adults. Some took pity on him and treated him as they always did while others looked to him for guidance as their new leader.
Dziban stuck by her son’s side with the fierce loyalty and love of a mother scorned. She was so angered by Rasalas’ actions that she torched his resting place. She had hoped the anger in her fire would allow the retired King to be torched, but the protective shield that encloses the fae-lion’s deep sleep did not allow it.
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