Hyetal

petrichor (n.): a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather
H Y E T A L
but are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?
This character belongs to Stardust and was created for a word-based contest. I received the word "petrichor", which is defined above.
Please do not plagiarize or edit this page without my permission. The sole exception for the latter example would be categories.
The format of this page was inspired by Nibby in their page Baroness Vanilla. It is told in a story format of you getting to know Hyetal through the eyes of a lost dragonet. Naturally, this leads to the page being rather lengthy, so if you dislike that, I'd advise you to turn away now.
Without further ado, let me introduce the wanderer with an end in mind. The SeaWing with no home, yet far from lost.
hiraeth (n.): a homesickness for a home you cannot return to, a home which perhaps never was
A forest after rain is a mysterious place. And you're a small dragonet, trapped in one.
The residual drizzle from a few hours earlier drips off the leaves slowly, landing with little patters on the ground. Crickets chirp from the bushes and fireflies float around you like tiny stars. An owl hoots from above your head and you jump, startled by the noise.
You're lost, hopelessly lost. Completely turned around. The haze of an earthy, full smell fills your nostrils and you sneeze, its richness suffocating. 
Drip, drip, drip, sing the droplets as they fall to the wet ground below. 
And then a dragon appears, silhouetted by the fading light.
Hyetal 	Hyetal
 	
Artist 	Sal
Background Information	Background Information
Creator 	Stardust
Main Attributes 	Curiosity / mapping the world / groundedness / introspectiveness / bleakness / logical / down-to-earth
Elemental Attribute 	Petrichor / fog / rainy forest / a breath of wind / the shallows of an ocean at night
Theme Animal 	Grizzly bear
Theme Colors 	Parchment / creamy brown / pale khaki / rich umber / deep green / faded parchment
Aesthetics 	Globes / old maps / compasses / hourglasses / soil / rainy forests / water dripping off leaves / libraries / camping / lanterns in the dark / fog / a missing puzzle piece
Theme Song 	Lost Stars- Adam Levine
MBTI Personality 	INTJ-A
Character Information 	Character Information
Age 	17 D.Y.
Gender 	Male
Occupation 	Wandering Pyrrhia; mapping the geography
Orientation 	Heteroromantic asexual
Tribe 	SeaWing
Goal 	To see all the things Pyrrhia has to offer
Residence 	On the move
Nicknames 	Hye
Relatives 	Spearfish (father), Archelon (mother), Embouchure (older sister), Pewter (non-binary younger sibling)
Allies 	His family (formerly), whoever he comes upon that seems friendly
Enemies 	Not really anybody
Likes 	Exploring, mapping, nature, rain, hiking, the great outdoors, feeling accepted, not being judged, casual environments, old scrolls and libraries, knowledge, myths and fairytales, the scent of a forest after rain, knowing what to do, having goals, logic, playing it safe, predicting what is to come, being serious
Dislikes 	Being judged, high pressure and/or stress situations, prejudice, unfair treatment, being cooped up indoors, long dry spells, spontaneity, taking huge risks, not knowing what is going to happen, being aimless, laziness, dragons who slack off and/or goof around while getting nothing done
Quote 	if only life could be a fairytale.
solivagant (a.): wandering alone
a p p e a r a n c e
His sudden appearance frightens you, and you stumble backward into a small bush. Panicked thoughts chase round and round your head as he walks closer, one deliberate, cautious step at a time. He moves in a way reminiscent of a grizzly bear - slow and steady, but firm and surefooted at the same time.
"Don't be scared," he rumbles in a deeply baritone voice. It's melodic and sonorous, ringing through the trees with ease. A brown cloth satchel slung around his shoulders thumps rhythmically against his side as he walks. "I won't hurt you."
You blink in surprise, for that statement wasn't what you were expecting. The dragon - a SeaWing, you notice now - is tall and heavyset, with muscles rippling just beneath the surface of his body. On that note, his scales are quite dull and don't seem to catch light easily, holding on to it instead of bouncing it back. Something else seems to be off about him, though...
"Your glowscales," you blurt, and immediately regret it. He manages a smile, though, rueful and not quite reaching his eyes.
"I've been told they're..." He pauses for a long moment. "What's the word? Broken." And indeed they are. They're sort of an off-white tinged with brown, and even though their color stands out through the swirling mist, they don't seem to actually be glowing. Dull and lifeless patches scattered on his body.
His deep green mainscales shimmer in the dusky light, the undercurrents of sage being brought out. In contrast, his horns gleam with an off-white color, while his talons flash with the same shade. You can faintly spot dark, healed-over scars sealing his gills shut.
He takes a step closer, revealing the color of his underscales. Faded emerald green, the shade of a grassy field bathed in dawn light. Sun beams through his fins and wing membranes, pastel mint with hints of lime. However, his left wing is scarred and tattered, tiny holes dotting the membrane.
The SeaWing extends one blunt, worn-down talon toward you. And it's not how gentle it seems, nor his comforting words, that make you take it. It's the hollow look in his doe-brown eyes, the expression of one who's lost and can't seem to find their way home.
And so you take his talon, and let him haul you to your feet. He smiles again- a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"You look lost," he says, point-blank. Before you even get the chance to reply, he adds, "Let me take you home."
sonder (n.): the realization that each random passersby has a life as vivid and complex as your own
p e r s o n a l i t y
"My name's Hyetal," he says. You trot alongside him in silence, not wanting to say anything that would reveal things about you. Your parents had always warned you about strangers, but this dragon... doesn't seem hostile. He radiates a calm, composed air, maybe even melancholy.
Don't say anything, your thoughts warn you. Finally, though, your curiosity gets the better of you. Besides, you can't stand the silence anymore. "Are you out hiking?"
Hyetal frowns for a moment, then it's gone. "Er, no. I actually explore Pyrrhia's terrain for a living. Mapping the landscape on scrolls and selling them at market."
You nod and lapse into silence, noticing how he doesn't seem completely comfortable conversing with you. He seems a little awkward, even around a dragonet as young as you - ducking his head, struggling with eye contact. However, you did notice the little beat of silence between your question and his answer. He listened, considered what he was going to say back. You suddenly find yourself feeling a little bit more open toward the nomad, for how he really seems to pay attention.
He breaks the silence by clearing his throat. "Ahem. Sorry for how quiet I am. Er, where do you live?" He stops walking for a moment, takes off his satchel, and fishes out a map, which he lays across a nearby tree stump. You gape at how completely full it is with writing, drawings, and neatly labeled locations.
"You must have worked really hard on this," you say, admiring the map.
He nods and smiles, but this time, it's a real one. It's obvious that Hyetal takes great pride in the things he's accomplished. "It did - it's taken me years to get to this point."
You tilt your head. "Then why have you worked on it for so long?"
A shrug of the shoulders. "I'm not really sure why, but when I start something, I feel compelled to finish it. It's almost as if I can't stop until it's done."
Hyetal glances over at you, his expression somewhere off in the distance. He seems to be lost in his work, but you bring him back to reality by stabbing your talon towards a village on the map. "There," you say, and his eyes focus again.
He frowns, assessing you with critical eyes. You're suddenly aware of everything you're doing - Hyetal is judging you so intensely you're not sure if you like it. He takes in your ragged appearance, your slumped posture, and his attention makes you extremely uncomfortable. He seems to be oddly judgmental, and from the detached look on his face again, he's formulating opinions about you. Possibly negative.
"Poor town," he says crisply, snapping the scroll back into a cylinder and tucking it swiftly in his pack. "That fire a few years ago really took a toll on it."
You cock your head. "Wait. You know about that?"
Again, Hyetal shrugs. "I have a passion for... geography. I like to stay up-to-date on how Pyrrhia's towns are doing, no matter how small."
He starts walking again, and you follow him, this time trying to make conversation. You can't stand the silence anymore. "So why are you an explorer?"
Crunch, his talons sound on the fallen leaves. "I just... have this feeling. Like I can't settle down anywhere. I try to make a home, but my heart tells me to keep moving. It's a sort of wanderlust, I suppose." He laughs drily. "That probably sounded weird."
"I actually say stuff like that a lot," you comment. "I like to... well, live inside my head. Make up my own imaginary worlds. It's fun to imagine what could be." You keep rambling, not noticing his amused expression. "Magic may not be proven, but I believe in it."
Hyetal huffs a small laugh. "There's no such thing as magic. Every single scientific law on the planet proves it otherwise." Noticing your hurt expression, he quickly adds, "Sorry... I tend to speak my mind without thinking." After a moment, however, he can't seem to stand letting your statement hang there. "It's true, though. Fantasy and magic don't exist. There's only facts and logic. Nothing else."
You open your mouth to argue, stung, but the look on his face makes you close it. He seems to believe so firmly in his opinion that nothing else will sway him, his jaw set tightly and his eyes challenging. Deciding not to debate with him, you strike up yet another topic. It's difficult to converse with this dragon. "Uh, do you know how long it'll take to get me home?"
He snaps his head toward the setting sun. "About two hours to a nearby lake, where we can camp out by the shore. We'll sleep there for the night, and after that, it'll probably take about four hours the next morning to get you home. Seeing as I can't fly and all." He ruffles his injured wing, unashamed of his scars. "If we run into trouble, I know what to do for every situation."
"Every single one?" You cock your head, curious about this strange wanderer.
"I like to work my way through all the possibilities," Hyetal says. "Makes me feel more... secure. Safer. Besides, having a game plan for everything means I'm prepared for anything life could throw at me."
"Okay," you say, and the two of you lapse into silence, the quiet broken only by a frog's croak or water dripping off a leaf. You hike like that for a long time, until the light has disappeared completely and the forest is lit only by frosty starlight.
Along the way, Hyetal doesn't speak, except for the occasional "Almost there" or "Look, there's a deer". He seems to be too lost in the nature surrounding you - soaking it in like one would enjoy a ray of sunlight. Although he hikes in it for a living, he's just as awed by it as you are - maybe even more. It's clear that he loves it, more than you could imagine.
Finally Hyetal pauses at a huge lake, just as he had described earlier, and you flop down next to him. Normally you would have qualms about sleeping next to a stranger, but Hyetal seems to be peaceful, or at least not possessed with an urge to fight you. You're curious about this odd nomad, gruff, yet guiding you home.
"Who are you?" you whisper, mostly to yourself and to the stars far above.
Having overheard you, he sighs, a long, mournful sound like the last breath of wind on a stormy day. "It's a long story.
"But I suppose we have time."
trouvaille (n.): a lucky find
h i s t o r y
"Hyetal means rainfall, you know," he begins. You cock your head, wondering how this relates to his history, but remain silent. A few seconds later, though, you get your answer.
"My siblings and I were hatched on a rainy night. When Embouchure and Pewter emerged from their eggs, they lay on the ground with only the occasional movement, I'm told. But when I came out, I did something frivolous. I started to frolic in the rain, leaping up and down while reveling in the droplets." Despite him passing it off as foolish, he smiles, and you can tell he likes the idea of this.
However, something isn't sitting right with you. "Why were you hatched on land? I thought SeaWings had their eggs underwater."
Hyetal's expression grows distant. "My parents were quite poor, and they worked as pearl divers off the coast of an island. Since the hatchery was quite far from there, they decided to have us on the shore, where they could reach us more easily."
You nod. This makes more sense.
"Something went... wrong. With me, though," he continues haltingly. He tilts his head toward you, letting you see the scratches on his neck. Now that you're closer, you observe that they seem to be "sealing" his gills shut, which he confirms in his next breath. "I emerged from my egg with these scratches. Right from birth, I couldn't breathe underwater."
"Meaning you couldn't carry on your family's business," you breathe, the pieces coming together.
He nods, his head falling slightly. "While my siblings learned how to find pearls in the darkest of places and helped support our family, I was stuck on land sitting in the trees," he spits bitterly. "For most of my childhood, I felt... left out. Abandoned by everyone and shunned by society, just because of these." He points to his broken gills.
At the sight of your slightly worried expression, Hyetal begins to calm down. "I guess I got used to it though. I figured I might as well enjoy my time on land, since I'd never be able to go anywhere else - my parents wouldn't let me fly without watching me themselves, for fear that I'd run away or something."
You laugh for a moment, but it dies quickly at the nostalgic look on his face. "Looking back... the only thing I remember is the scent of the forest after rain. Whenever I got angry about my situation or sad about my family's financial depression, that smell always calmed me down. As a result, I didn't pay enough attention to my family, I suppose. Even my parents' faces are hazy now." He sniffs, and in the moonlight, you think you can spot a tear forging its way down his snout.
"I grew up like that, though. Waiting on the shore, the months passing in a blur. My family fell deeper into debt. Pewter came out as non-binary. Our parents tried to educate us because we didn't have the money for school. Besides those things, though, my first four years of life were unique in their normalcy.
"One day, though, my parents came to me with tearful eyes. They said that they were so incredibly proud of my siblings and me, for how we had disciplined ourselves all these years. They said that the queen herself had invited them to go show her their pearls. And they said that they were taking us with them on a trip to the Summer Palace.
"Embouchure and Pewter and I were so excited. Literally jumping for joy." Hyetal smiles at the memory. "It would be the first time where we'd actually get to interact with dragons outside of our own family. We immediately started firing things off of what we wanted to do there: visit the marketplace, see the spires... our list was endless. 
"Needless to say, though, we looked forward to the trip anxiously for the two weeks between being told and actually departing. I had to swim like a dragon outside our tribe: always coming up for air, and that stung, but it was worth it to get to the Summer Palace.
"The first few days there..." Hyetal closes his eyes with a small grin. "It was everything we dreamed of. The dragons were so kind to us, and the palace was so beautiful, and the markets stunningly loud... it was overwhelming. But perfectly satisfying at the same time. Those four days were the best ones of my life.
"And then everything went downhill.
"First, my parents went to show their pearls to the queen when they managed to snag a rare appointment with her. They were hopeful that she'd request their jewelry services, and they'd finally get a steady job that provided enough income to support our family. That... didn't happen though.
"Queen Coral saw us, but she didn't pay any attention. She was just trying to deal with her servants, telling them to fetch her food and drinks. The queen was more interested in the inanimate objects around her than the very real, soulful dragons right in front of her." Even as you watch, Hyetal's expression grows darker and angrier like a looming storm cloud.
"She sent them away with a flap of her talon, not even making eye contact. We walked out of the throne room together, heads hanging low and hope gone. The trip would continue as planned - we would be there for two more days to enjoy the sights - but none of our hearts were in it anymore. It was almost as if a cloud was hanging over all our heads, sucking the joy out of everything we did.
"And then the bombing happened."
You wince, already knowing how Hyetal's story will end.
"It was... terrible. Fires and screams and dragons collapsing all around me. We had been out in the marketplace looking for souvenirs, but as soon as the first log fell, SeaWings bolted everywhere and I lost sight of my family.
"I dove back into the crowd, desperate to find them, but everyone was running the opposite direction, and I was pushed that way too. I was shoved all the way out of the entrance, but my family-" At that point, he breaks down, wiping glistening tears from his snout. You slide closer to him warily and nestle into the curve of his side, wanting to comfort him. He stiffens at your touch, but doesn't pull away.
"I never found them. I asked around for months, but the answer was always the same. Sorry, kid, they'd say with a sympathetic look on their faces. Sometimes they wouldn't even spare me a word, just shaking their head and hurrying away. I got my scar from being burned there, and I haven't been able to fly since." He lifts his left wing, angling it listlessly and watching the moonlight beam through the holes in it.
"Completely alone, I tried to make my way back to my childhood home. Of course, though, I had no clue how to navigate, and lost my way before I had walked for even a few hours. I taught myself how to survive, though, and wandered alone in the wilderness for a while.
"A group of RainWings found me when I meandered into the rainforest accidentally, and they took me in. Sleeping in shafts of sunlight and lounging around for the whole day seemed nice at first, but later I came to realize that... that it just wasn't home. I spent a few weeks there, then took off. No one came after me."
A minute of silence passes, until you can't stand his silence anymore. "What happened?"
Another heavy sigh. "Well, here I am. Traversing Pyrrhia, trying to take in all the sights. Somewhere along the line, I learned how to make maps, and I began to sell them so I could afford things like supplies and provisions." He gives a defeated shrug. "Gotta get by somehow."
A minute passes, and he blurts out something that seems like a confession - from his sheepish tone of voice, it almost sounds as if he feels guilty. "Sometimes I can feel myself slipping away. The loneliness overtakes me, and I just... despair."
He inhales deeply, and for a second, you feel what he feels. The birdsong, the waves lapping at the shore - but most of all, the scent of newly fallen rain. "Petrichor brings me back though. To my childhood, to my family. It's what grounds me in this world, soothes me, comforts me. It almost feels like my siblings and parents are right here with me for a second, watching over me with misty eyes."
Hyetal lifts his head and gazes out over the lake for a half-second, foggy longing in his eyes. Then he seems to snap himself back to the real world, glancing at you with solemn eyes. "Get some rest. We have a long hike tomorrow."
aeipathy (n.): an enduring and consuming passion
r e l a t i o n s h i p s
You close your eyes for a moment, then blink them open. Despite how peaceful the environment is, you just aren't used to all the noise surrounding you, and... well, you just can't sleep. 
You prod Hyetal gingerly, and he rolls over to look at you with a grunt. "Some of us want to rest," he says gruffly, although the teasing note in his voice can't be mistaken. "What do you need?" 
"Just... talk to me," you say sheepishly. "At night, my parents always... like, read me stories. I... can't fall asleep without someone speaking." 
Hyetal laughs, but it dies away when he realizes you're not joking. "Really? Wow. Okay." He falls silent for a moment, then asks, "What do you want me to talk about?" 
You fiddle with your talons, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. "Um. Anything you want." A thought bubbles to the top of your head: "Maybe your family?" 
Immediately his expression grows far-off and wistful, something you're getting quite good at recognizing. "My father's and mother's names were Spearfish and Archelon, respectively. I... didn't treat them well. Most of the time I was moody and resentful toward them, for no reason in particular. I was just quite bitter about my condition, and how I couldn't carry on our family's tradition. "I'd snap at them a lot, but they'd never get mad. Instead they'd give each other sad glances, and try to comfort me or calm me down. 
"Looking back, I was just... rude. I wouldn't have forgiven myself for how I acted, because even though I loved them deep down, I never showed it. Spearfish and Archelon were constantly there for me in the darkest times, and losing them... it was like the world had fallen out from beneath me when I realized. Over time, I came to terms with their death, but like I said, the petrichor brings me back." 
"What about your siblings?" you ask curiously. "Did you like them? I know my little brother annoys me to death." 
This time, Hyetal looks almost satisfied as he remembers his brother and sister. "Embouchure and I fought quite a bit. Trivial things, of course, like who got the last fish at dinner or who got to play with the toys first. Obviously, though, we loved each other. I'd be completely lost right now if not for all the random survival tips she spouted at me back at our home. 
"Pewter was quieter, more delicate. Often I'd try to 'protect' them from the real world... they were just too pure, too innocent. Sometimes they'd annoy me and I'd turn to scold them, but they'd just flash me a wide-eyed smile and I'd back down. Our love for each other was less stereotypical, seeing as we never tried to make each others' lives harder or something like that. I miss them every day." 
"Did you have any friends?" you probe. It's probably impolite to ask so many questions, you realize, but you can't help it. You're "naturally inquisitive", as your parents put it. 
Hyetal seesaws a talon in the air. "Most of the time, only the rain kept me company. There was one dragonet, though - I think his name was Cenote or something. A lot of the time he'd wander down to the shore to sketch the setting sun. I was around the same age, but I was too shy to introduce myself. So I admired his work from afar, quietly watching him immerse himself in his art. He... never noticed me.
"Last year, I stumbled upon another hybrid. Deluge, he called himself. He was sitting in a clearing, staring up at the stars. We talked briefly, then went about our own paths. He was... pleasant, I suppose. A pretty good listener. In another universe, we could have been friends.
"And finally, a RainWing dragonet by the name of Loriinae who I came upon... oh, a few weeks ago, in fact." He chuckles. "Said she was looking for the end of a rainbow she had spotted from her rainforest home. She was peppy, energetic. I didn't approve of her supernatural beliefs, and told her so, but she didn't care. Guided her back home, she thanked me, and left."
He cocks his head at you, his steadfast gaze boring into your scales. "And now, there's you. I hate to admit it, but you were... underwhelming at first. I didn't think much of you." Hyetal gives you a wry smile. "You're a pretty good dragonet, though. Sympathetic, a skilled listener."
He winks at you. "Also, one that never seems to rest. Get some sleep now. Really."
You follow his orders and close your eyes, drifting away.
ikigai (n.): a reason for being
t r i v i a
"C'mon, wake up, kid." You open your eyes blearily to Hyetal shaking your shoulder, framed in morning sunlight. He already looks clean and washed-up, whereas you're grimy and yawning.
"How long have you been up?" you grumble as he begins to walk, while you trail behind him like mist on a comet. It's so early, and you just want to sleep.
"An hour or so," he answers crisply. "I'm an early riser."
You hurry to catch up with him, as he takes very long strides. To the right of you, a loud crack cuts through the silence, and you jump so far you practically hit Hyetal's leg. "What was that?" you cry.
He cocks his head at the brush, then turns back to you. "Ground squirrel, about two feet long. Foraging for food."
"Wow," you say, peering closer at the bush. "Did you get all that from the stick snapping?"
Hyetal cracks a smile. "Some of it. The rest from observations I made in the past. I spend a lot of time doing this kind of stuff, you know?" He reaches into his pack and brandishes a thick scroll with a flourish. The cover reads A Guide to Pyrrhian Wildlife. "I carry this around with me... it was a birthday gift from my parents."
You nod quietly. It's sad to see it, the melancholy look in his eyes every time he mentions his parents. "I, uh, just want to thank you. For bringing me home and all that."
Hyetal waves it off. "It's my pleasure. I have a soft spot for dragonets like you." After a pause, he adds, "I've actually always wanted a dragonet companion. One who has no home to go to. It's a secret hope I harbor, you know, to have someone to wander with me."
He shrugs, dismissing the thought. "It's been nice talking to you, though. I haven't had such a good conversation in years."
As the two of you crest a hill, you can spot your village in the distance. A cry of joy escapes your mouth, and Hyetal can't hold back his smile either. "Do you want me to walk you down?"
You're practically dancing. "No, it's fine, I can go by myself."
Farther down in the valley, crimson scales flash against green. Your mother. "Thank you," you say as a final farewell to Hyetal, then dart down the hill towards your parent without looking back.
Wrapped in the tight embrace of your mother, you sob into her chest. When you remember Hyetal, you glance back toward the trees, but he's gone. The only thing remaining of him is the scent of a forest after rain, drifting on the wind.
cynefin (n.): a place where a person or animal feels it ought to live or belong; where nature surrounding one feels right and welcoming
g a l l e r y
Hyetal by deathseer.png|jadabase colored by deathseer
Hyetal Code Trade.png|headshot by sunset
HyetalCloud.jpg|by cloud
C442350B-BEE5-443A-B6EA-FF13CD2F3E50.jpeg|by charlie
Hyetal-Aesthetic Essence.png|aesthetic by essence
Category:Characters
Category:SeaWings
Category:Males
Category:Occupation (Traveler)
Category:Disabled
Category:Content (Stardust the IceWing-RainWing)