Seaglint Wyrmlings & the Pearlscale Drakes

The Sea of Veil is home to many forms of life—some fragile and small, yet full of potential. Among them are the Seaglint Wyrmlings, shimmering creatures that drift through the shallows in tight-knit schools. There is strength in their numbers, a shared instinct to remain close as they navigate the treacherous spawning grounds of the Sea of Veil. Safe havens are rare for such delicate beings. Though beautiful, they are easy prey, often picked off by swift currents or hungry predators before they ever have a chance to grow.   As many perish in the open sea, only a rare few endure. If a Seaglint Wyrmling can survive ten full moon cycles beneath Lunestra’s gaze, it begins its ancient transformation. Slowly, it drifts down into the deep, instinct guiding it to the ocean floor. There, it begins to weave a cocoon around itself—a gleaming shell of pearlescent slime and coral fragments. The cocoon grows with the wyrmling as it sleeps, protected by a thick, poisonous membrane that wards off predators lurking in the depths.   This sacred transformation, known as the Silting Sleep, can last up to a year. Encased in their shimmering cocoons, the wyrmlings fall utterly still as their bodies begin to change. Gills close. Wings begin to sprout. A second heart forms to carry the deep tides of sea magic. Their old life fades in silence beneath the waves.   Yet during this stillness, a few wyrmlings stir in another way. They begin to call—not with voice or sound, but with soul. These rare few send out a tether across sea, sky, and dream. Before they ever hatch, they reach for the one soul they were born to find: their Rider.   It is said the soul of the Pearlscale chooses its other half without error. The call comes in visions—vivid, haunting dreams of coral light, crashing waves, and the feeling of a presence waiting beneath the sea. Those who awaken from these dreams are forever changed. On the Isle of Veil, the soulbound are considered sacred.   When the cocoon finally hatches, the chosen Rider knows. The moment is unmistakable. From within the cocoon emerges a massive, silver-white whelp—its scales luminous, its gaze already searching for the one it called. The bond is sealed with a single touch, forging a connection of soul and spirit that can never be undone. Those who bond with a Pearlscale are marked for life—their dreams echo with tides, their veins shimmer faintly with moonlit magic, and no illusion can deceive them again.