Post by Samantha on May 19, 2014 7:31:18 GMT
(Twenty years before the events of Dragonsdeep).
Adutaine looked out across the water, to where the floating islands of Astraeus' realm drifted aimlessly to and fro. Beyond that, the barren and scarred Fire territory stood in stark contrast to its lush, inviting neighbour. She could often be found here, crouched like stone at the tip of her lands, gazing out over a watery void. They soothed her mind somehow, these observations of nearby realms. Puzzles long ago worn to death. Now, they brought her peace.
After a time she stirred, raised her head, and turned to look behind her. Her back to a sand dune, she was sheltered from the storm; but Adutaine could hear the winds howling and whipping up biting grains of sand not too far off. Perhaps it was unfair of her, to have created so many Creations with feathers and fur in place of scales. Or, perhaps it was fair test. After all, if it bothered them that much, they could easily just go and live somewhere else.
Time nodded to herself, as though she had come to some important conclusion, and then suddenly raised her maw to the sky and spread her wings wide. She allowed her power to wash over her, rule her for a moment, as people and places and things, both here still and gone; swamped her thoughts. Battles, Creations, conversations long forgotten filled her mind. Humans, going about their daily lives. She was everywhere and nowhere, and it was at once chaotic and liberating. It was her, she was it, this was all that she was and all that she ever could be.
She was Time, the essence of time itself, for a moment. Then Adutaine cast the chaos away from her mind, shrinking it down into a fiercely compacted ball of blue and yellow light which materialised in the air before her. Why blue and yellow, she would never know. It turned out differently every time, it was simply a place to begin. The starting point for new life, as it were.
Sometimes she closed her eyes, but this time she kept them open as she began to sculpt. Sand, the colour of sand, filled her field of vision, and she decided to make use of it. The form of a dragon took shape before her, stretching and morphing as though from clay; claws and tail springing forth from a previously amorphous blob. She sculpted each scale with care, caused great feathery wings to spring from its back with barely a thought. But, as she so often did, Adutaine left the Creation's powers to chance. It was just more interesting that way.
As the wisps of time dancing about its form flickered and melted into its skin, Adutaine stepped back and admired her handiwork. It was time for the finishing touch, she knew. Without hesitation she extended her power one final time and, all at once, the dragon had a mind. Satisfied, Adutaine raised her head high and waited for the newborn dragon to stir.
"What is your name, Creation?" she asked, as a matter of formality. She didn't always ask, and once she'd given a dragon a new name to see what happened, but for today she was content to adhere to tradition.
Adutaine looked out across the water, to where the floating islands of Astraeus' realm drifted aimlessly to and fro. Beyond that, the barren and scarred Fire territory stood in stark contrast to its lush, inviting neighbour. She could often be found here, crouched like stone at the tip of her lands, gazing out over a watery void. They soothed her mind somehow, these observations of nearby realms. Puzzles long ago worn to death. Now, they brought her peace.
After a time she stirred, raised her head, and turned to look behind her. Her back to a sand dune, she was sheltered from the storm; but Adutaine could hear the winds howling and whipping up biting grains of sand not too far off. Perhaps it was unfair of her, to have created so many Creations with feathers and fur in place of scales. Or, perhaps it was fair test. After all, if it bothered them that much, they could easily just go and live somewhere else.
Time nodded to herself, as though she had come to some important conclusion, and then suddenly raised her maw to the sky and spread her wings wide. She allowed her power to wash over her, rule her for a moment, as people and places and things, both here still and gone; swamped her thoughts. Battles, Creations, conversations long forgotten filled her mind. Humans, going about their daily lives. She was everywhere and nowhere, and it was at once chaotic and liberating. It was her, she was it, this was all that she was and all that she ever could be.
She was Time, the essence of time itself, for a moment. Then Adutaine cast the chaos away from her mind, shrinking it down into a fiercely compacted ball of blue and yellow light which materialised in the air before her. Why blue and yellow, she would never know. It turned out differently every time, it was simply a place to begin. The starting point for new life, as it were.
Sometimes she closed her eyes, but this time she kept them open as she began to sculpt. Sand, the colour of sand, filled her field of vision, and she decided to make use of it. The form of a dragon took shape before her, stretching and morphing as though from clay; claws and tail springing forth from a previously amorphous blob. She sculpted each scale with care, caused great feathery wings to spring from its back with barely a thought. But, as she so often did, Adutaine left the Creation's powers to chance. It was just more interesting that way.
As the wisps of time dancing about its form flickered and melted into its skin, Adutaine stepped back and admired her handiwork. It was time for the finishing touch, she knew. Without hesitation she extended her power one final time and, all at once, the dragon had a mind. Satisfied, Adutaine raised her head high and waited for the newborn dragon to stir.
"What is your name, Creation?" she asked, as a matter of formality. She didn't always ask, and once she'd given a dragon a new name to see what happened, but for today she was content to adhere to tradition.