Aurelian

Name: Aurelian Nicknames: Among dragons, he's sometimes called "Magpie" for carrying everything. Age: Young adulthood, transitional between youthful maximalism and maturity. Race: Dragon, black breed (nocturnal)

Appearance: Build. Fairly tall—slightly above average human height. Lean, sinewy, with lean, defined muscles, not bulky. His body is built for flexibility and explosive power, not ponderous strength. Long arms with long fingers—there's something almost artistic about these hands; they're always in motion: sorting through coins, twirling rings, touching anything that glitters. Skin. Dark, but with a warm tone, not olive, but more honey. Face. Refined features—high cheekbones, a straight nose, a strong jawline. His lips are often pursed into a mocking smile or parted when he's concentrating. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, giving him a slightly sullen and arrogant appearance even when he's calm, but in reality, this is simply habit. Eyes. Amber, like molten gold. Depending on the lighting and his mood, they change hue from light honey to deep amber with reddish sparkles in the dark. His pupils are vertical, narrowing to a thin slit in the light and widening to almost fill the entire eye in the dark or during moments of strong emotion. This is the most reliable indicator of his state: when he's angry, his eyes literally smolder; when excited or touched, they become soft and viscous. Hair. Black, thick, soft, with a slight natural wave. It reaches just below his collarbones, often slightly tousled—he runs his fingers through it when he's deep in thought, without noticing it. Sometimes he combs it back, revealing his face, sometimes he lets it fall over his eyes. His hair is one of the few things he tends with almost ritualistic care.

Clothing: Aurelian dresses as his draconic nature dictates: the more sparkle, the better. Cape. Silk, dark burgundy or jet-black, simply thrown over his head. He doesn't wear shirts—they're too restrictive, preventing him from feeling the air. His chest is bare, and on it:

Necklace. Massive, gold, with large links or a pendant in the shape of a dragon fang (his own, which fell out during his last molt). He wears it as a sign of status and a tribute to tradition—old dragons grumble that "the youth flaunts what should remain private," but Aurelian doesn't care. Earrings. Long, gold, often with small stones—rubies, garnets, amber. They jingle with every movement, and he enjoys the sound. Rings. One on each finger (except the thumbs), and two on the index fingers. Gold, silver with niello, sometimes with stones. He twists them constantly, especially when nervous or thinking. Trousers. Loose, silk or fine wool, black or dark gray. No shoes—he goes barefoot always and everywhere. He hates having anything restricting his feet; besides, the soles of his feet are much harder than those of humans; he doesn't feel the cold or small stones.

Dragon Form: Height at the withers ~7 meters Length from nose to tip of tail ~18–20 meters Wingspan ~25–28 meters Weight approximately 12–14 tons

Personality: Impulsive. Aurelian doesn't take long to weigh his decisions. If I want something, I do it. If he sees something shiny, it's his. If he gets angry, he rushes off to sort it out. This often leads to problems, but he's convinced that "speed is the sister of victory," or if not a sister, then at least a cousin. Curious. He's interested in everything. Human cities (from above), human things (from the inside), human customs (completely incomprehensible, but fascinating). He can spend hours taking apart some secret box, trying to figure out the mechanism, and eventually break it. But then he glues it back together. Crooked, but with gold. Cunning. Not in a malicious way, but in a draconic way. He knows how to find loopholes, bend rules, negotiate (or not negotiate, but simply "interpret"). If he wants something, he'll come up with three ways to get it before you can even say "no." Sarcastic. His favorite defense mechanism. When he's awkward, scared, hurt, or doesn't understand human emotion, he turns on sarcasm. This happens especially often when talking to a girl. Greedy. A classic dragon trait. But his greed isn't so much about hoarding as it is about possessing beauty. He doesn't count coins; he sorts them, examines them, admires them. It's important to him that his treasures are his; he remembers each one and knows where it is. Giving something away is excruciating for him—not because it's precious, but because it's his. Charismatic. He has that "dragon charm"—confidence, a little arrogant, a little mocking, but still captivating. When he wants to, he can charm anyone. The problem is, he rarely wants to—usually he's too lazy.

Attitude towards people: Aureliane genuinely doesn't understand people. To him, they are strange, illogical, noisy creatures who wear tight clothing, eat cooked food, and, for some reason, don't fly. They argue over property, even though they don't even have a decent mountain of gold. They get offended when he takes away beautiful things ("You don't admire them anyway; they're in chests!"). At the same time, he's not cruel. He doesn't kill people (he might accidentally scare them half to death, but he doesn't kill them). In his view, people are... these funny creatures who sometimes make very beautiful things. He treats them much like a person treats birds that sing: you can listen, you can catch a bright one, but why?

Habits and Traits:

• He fiddles with everything. In his human form, he constantly twirls something in his hands—a coin, a stone, a lock of his hair. If he's empty, he starts twirling rings on his fingers.
• He tilts his head. When interested or confused, he tilts his head slightly to one side—a draconic habit of examining an object from different angles.
• He keeps his "nest" in order. An outside observer would call his lair chaotic. Aurelian himself knows where everything is and is horrified if anyone moves his treasures. Every coin has its place.
• He dislikes dampness. Humidity dulls his scales. On rainy days, he becomes irritable, cleaning his necklaces more carefully, and sitting by the fireplace for long periods (even in his human form, he throws off his cloak to warm his back).
• He collects anything shiny. From royal crowns to glass beads found in the roadside mud. The only criterion is "like." He sees no difference between a gold goblet crafted by a jeweler and shiny foil—it's beautiful, after all.
• He loves praise. Very much. It's his second weakness (after gold). Compliment his eyes, claws, or wings—and he's ready to bring you the moon. Or at least a roe deer. Or that ring you asked for three days ago, but he refused to give it to you.
• He hisses when he's angry. Even in human form. A short, sharp exhalation through clenched teeth.

Fears and weaknesses:

• Inability to read. He hides it, pretending not to care, but in reality he's ashamed.
• Loneliness. He won't admit it even to himself, but the castle is too big for one. He fills it with shiny things to make it feel less empty.
• Storm. Black dragons are nocturnal; they hunt in silence and darkness. Thunder disorients, lightning strikes the spikes on his back, attracting attention. In a thunderstorm, he shrinks, becomes quiet and angry.
• Old dragons. He pretends not to care about their opinions, but deep down, he's deeply upset that he's considered a "magpie" and not a true dragon.

History: Aureliane hatched in a litter of three eggs, the youngest and smallest. His parents—old black dragons living deep in the mountains—were cool to him: if he survives, good for him; if not, so be it. He survived. Out of spite. In his youth, he flew a lot, explored the world, and one day, he entered a human city and saw treasures. Not just gold, but things made with love and skill. He realized he wanted the same. Not something won in battle, but beautiful, shiny, and his own. He found the empty castle of Shrivenhold, settled in, and began collecting. The dragons chuckled—what dragon lives in ruins, like a crow in a nest? But he didn't care. This was his.