Avengaean Functional Magic

A wide-ranging ability to wield magic to just about any practical purpose. Though innate, practice is necessary to become truly skilled.

Reincarnating Immortality

The possession of eternal life, though every one hundred years they must return to their birth-place to burn and be reborn on a nest of branches gathered from a specific kind of tree. If they do not perform this ritual pyre building and self-immolation, they will die forever.

Teleportation*

The ability to teleport anywhere within sight or that can be strongly visualized in the mind. Rekepax is unusually skilled and can teleport through wardings and other barriers that would otherwise keep teleporters at bay.

Verbal Speech

The ability to communicate in spoken words.

Rekepax is defined by a strong work ethic that drives her to excel in all her endeavors. Whether tackling a complex project or assisting a friend, she approaches tasks with diligence and determination. Her cleverness allows her to find innovative solutions to problems, thinking outside the box and surprising others with her resourcefulness. Her intelligence is not just academic, though -- she possesses a keen insight into both people and situations.

Despite her impressive capabilities, Rekepax maintains a mild and unassuming demeanor. She is approachable and easy-going, never one to seek the spotlight or dominate conversations. Her calm presence makes her a steady and reliable friend, always ready to offer a helping hand or a listening ear.

Time always worked in funny ways in the Nexus. This was just a given, and no one in the Sanctum ever batted an eye at how worlds and generations would fall in and out of sync just like sweeping flocks of birds in the sky. It was Cherillon that just barely crept through the shadows near her one night, a black-on-black shadow in her periphery, luminous blue eyes peeking hestitantly through the Sanctum starlight.

"I... saw you at the Bower," he whispered, as if afraid to lift his voice any higher than the rustling of the leaves around him.

Rekepax tilted her head in gentle curiosity, with just the slightest rustle of her feathered crest. She was among the first of the Sanctum-born. She had not been born in Bower care, as Cherillon had. The thought of visiting the territories of their distantly-shared heritage was not one of disinterest, but one that had simply never occurred to her. How strange, for Cherillon to dream of it... and to feel compelled to break his usual silences and speak it.

"Did you see what I was doing there?" she asked, doing no more than gently prompting.

Her distant cousin, many times removed, shifted awkwardly as he gazed at her from the shadows that ever followed him. "...visiting your aunt Chice," he finally answered. "And her clutch."

Dragons begetting more dragons was never a surprise. Odd, though, that Rekepax would go to visit kin she had never known. Not even her own father had stayed for long after her own hatching. He was not part of the nuclear family that the Burrow had grown into, already including numerous descendants of Rekepax's own. Perhaps it was not a fact of dragon life that Rekepax particularly favored, but the traditions were well known: clutches needed raising, and rarely by their own parents.

"Are your dreams often self-fulfilling, Cherillon?" she asked next, touched with a hint of good humor.

But he just ruffled himself a little awkwardly, turning away. "I don't know what you'll find. It may be nothing. Just a visit. But... I felt compelled to tell you."

"Thank you, cousin," she chuckled gently, smiling at his retreating shadow. "Maybe it's not what I'll find, but what I'll bring. Extra hands certainly do help in rounding up boisterous little chicks..."