Predict
Bold - Energetic - Lively
Pet Information
Pet Name: Predict
Owner: Flygon
Theme / Type: Storm Quari
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 3 / 3
Strength: 21
Defense: 3
Speed: 5
Intellect: 2
Misticpower: 4
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 15/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - Angel Pomme
2. - Braenon Pomme
3. - Clockwork Pomme
4. - Heart Pomme
5. - Mandoran Pomme
6. - Nuclear Pomme
7. - Plague Pomme
8. - Plushie Pomme
9. - Pomme Pomme
10. - Pommegranite
11. - Pommerainian
12. - Pyramid Cake
13. - Tropical Pomme
14. - Weighted Companion Pomme
15. - Woodland Pomme
2. - Braenon Pomme
3. - Clockwork Pomme
4. - Heart Pomme
5. - Mandoran Pomme
6. - Nuclear Pomme
7. - Plague Pomme
8. - Plushie Pomme
9. - Pomme Pomme
10. - Pommegranite
11. - Pommerainian
12. - Pyramid Cake
13. - Tropical Pomme
14. - Weighted Companion Pomme
15. - Woodland Pomme
Pet Profile
Hatchling belongs to Flygon, now and forever. If anything happens, please return him.
Name: Predict
Ability: Prediction and Storm Manipulation
I hope you're proud of me, teacher!
____________
A young Quari who couldn't know his potential
And at once, watching the young one trying to quell his powers, Spyra knew what she had been called to do. She sensed great power in this little Quari, but uncontrolled and wild. He obviously had no idea how to use his abilities, and one day he would probably singe himself to nothing but a pile of greasy black ash on the ground, without training. Training that Spyra could give.
The Gurahdi walked closer, not bothering to keep quiet; it would startle the Quari less if he knew she was coming before he saw her. After only a few steps his golden eyes settled on the spot where Spyra approached from, wide and wary, his body suddenly poised on the brink of flight.
As Spyra broke through the bushes separating them, her form came into full view. Black feathers tipped in orange, a vibrant, rounded orange head with thin, narrowed eyes and feet with wicked talons was what made up her large, intimidating form. The Quari gave a strangled cry and made to jump into the pond, but Spyra stopped him with a shout.
“I’m a friend!” she called, suddenly worried her goal would escape from her, “I haven’t come to hurt you.”
The Quari paused, staring at her in wonder and fear.
Spyra decided it would do no good to try and explain her reasoning for coming here. It was a thing only a Gurahdi would understand, and would likely frighten the young storm creature even more. “I see you’re alone. But I sense great potential in you as well,” she said gently, and the Quari’s bunched, tense muscles seemed to loosen before her eyes, though he did not move from the pond’s edge, “What is your name? Mine is Spyra.”
The Quari was silent for several moments, studying her with those wide golden eyes. Then finally, he said, “Predict,” in a very small, high-pitched sort of voice.
“Well, Predict,” said Spyra, smiling, “I notice your powers are a bit…unruly.”
Predict’s violet face seemed to flush a bright red for a moment, and he stared at the ground.
“Ah, no need to be ashamed! Creatures of higher power often have trouble with control at the beginning,” Spyra said, and she took the liberty of walking a few steps closer. To her delight, Predict didn’t back away, just looked up at her, eyes furrowed in confusion.
“Higher power?” he echoed, and gave the ground an angry swat, “That’s not me you’re talking about, then. I can’t so much as spark a fire when I want to, just when I don’t!”
Spyra nodded, undaunted. That was normal. “You try too hard, Predict. Power flows, it is not controlled. Try to hold it and guide it too tightly and it slips away, and when you least expect it breaks free.”
Predict just shook his head; he didn’t believe Spyra but he didn’t think he could convince her otherwise, either.
The Gurahdi glanced at the sky through the sparse trees. It was a deep, velvety black now, strewn with brightly twinkling stars and a large white moon. “It is late! It seems I’ll have to stay here tonight. What do you think, Predict? In the morning, shall we go to my home, and you will learn how to spark that fire?”
Predict frowned, stared at the ground again, and then looked up at her after a long moment of silence. “I suppose,” he said, sounding flat, “but I’m not sure it’ll do me much good.”
“Leave that to me,” Spyra said finally, and both creatures settled themselves to sleep for the night, Predict still giving off the occasional unruly spark.
The next morning, with the sky still grey and the first pink of dawn just beginning to pearl the sky, Spyra woke Predict and flew him to her home, an aerie deep in Darkwood Hollow, made up of several large logs and branches of various ancient trees. It was large enough for two or three of Spyra to live in comfortably, and Predict didn’t seem to mind being away from water too much.
In just a few weeks, a strong bond had formed between the two. Spyra would wake Predict every morning at dawn and set him to training. First, physically, to teach him discipline and control over himself. His abilities would come next, she explained to him, because if his body was weak he would not be able to withstand handling the power within him. It was an odd sort of friendship they shared; Spyra was protector and teacher, but quite fond of the little Quari, who seemed exasperated at her training methods but worked hard anyway. Sometimes he let his juvenile temper get the best of him, but Spyra would simply put him down with a few firm words and maybe a light whack to the head with her wing.
Weeks went by quickly and soon, Predict had been under Spyra’s training for several months. He had grown in so many ways - physically, his body was larger, stronger and more muscular, and his voice had deepened; he was no longer impatient or sullen and took to training with better grace and more aptitude than before. Spyra decided it was finally time to work on the Quari’s powers, and the next morning at dawn, told him so. She received a barely controlled grin and a nod in reply.
Predict took to the training with a will. Spyra first set him to simple things, mostly mental exercises. He had a block purely because of his want to control his powers, but what he truly needed was to simply guide them. Lightning and storms were not a forced to be controlled, which made his learning to harness them in the ways he could all the more important.
Soon he was able to summon small sparks at will, with only a few mishaps concerning almost setting Spyra’s aerie aflame. The sparks grew, and so did Predict’s mental discipline, so that he was able to concentrate so fully on one thing Spyra had to physically shake him to get his attention, or to do the opposite and focus almost fully on multiple things at once.
And then the day came, after several years of teaching, that Spyra let him work with real lightning. Predict had been dying to perfect this ultimate ability of his for ages, but the Gurahdi had kept him from it, letting his enthusiasm die a bit first before letting him handle such power.
Spyra flew Predict to a clearing, where they would be less likely to hit trees and start a fire. She grinned as she landed and the Quari clumsily scrambled off her back; he was most graceful in water, not in the air. Predict blinked and looked around, and smiled at her.
“It’s where I met you,” he said, walking to the edge of the pond that, years earlier, he had almost used to escape from Spyra.
“Indeed,” was Spyra’s only reply.
The Gurahdi set him to his mental exercises, taking the Quari to a place of calm and focus before letting him attempt something so large and dangerous. In minutes Predict had the serene countenance of a person with no cares, but his body seemed to take on the same feel as an arrow poised to fly straight to the target.
“You know what to do, Predict, but let yourself go further this time. I will watch,” said Spyra, her voice low and evenly pitched. She set herself down some feet behind Predict, and indeed, she watched; her black-eyed gaze was fixed firmly on the Quari. She couldn’t deny the nervousness welling up within her, that maybe he was not ready, but she stamped it down firmly. If he wasn’t ready now, he never would be.
Predict just nodded. He dug within himself to the power he knew was there, the winds and the lightning and thunders, opening a channel to connect himself with it. He was a conduit for the power, now, and drew upon enough of it to equal a flash of lightning. He did not know how he knew how much to take, but he always had, even from the beginning, and didn’t question it anymore.
He felt the tingle of electricity and power flood his body, felt the temptation to draw more, but swiftly quelled the desire. Guiding the power like a riverbank guides and holds the river, but does not force it to flow anywhere, Predict sent the lightning straight up into the sky.
There was a bright flash of purple and gold, and the sudden roll of thunder as lightning sparked across the sky. Predict swiftly drew the power back within himself, closing the channel to it, and suddenly all was still. He looked back at Spyra, who was smiling in admiration and joy.
“Your finest victory yet, Predict,” she said, walking over to him, “and I believe you will have many more.”
Predict nodded, silently staring at the spot his lightning had streaked across moments before. And to think, he had once been unable to spark a fire!
Story By Caustic
Made by me - 2010
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