Thrice, Alliance | Thelandria & Markus | FB
The Trinity Lakes were a marvel in a realm marred by war and bloodshed. By will of the divine there was, always, something of worth to be found amidst chaos; something precious in the ruin. It had been many a year since Thelandria ventured upon them, but serene aquamarines caressed the twinkling waters with ease. There was a ripple spurring from the east. Slow and intrepid the ripples cascaded to shore, something the elf was delighted to see.
She traced the ripples to their source.
And gazed upon a horror the likes of which were etched in tomes of legend.
Thelandria witnessed a creature bred of the vast ignorance of the world. A heathen of the dark. It spawned wings covered in dingy, reptilian scales. With them it sought to disperse a poisonous overdraft into the humid noon air. The creature was ignorant of her presence, but Thelandria saw never-ending embers of flame in place of its eyes. With them it sought to gaze through malice whilst a Dragon, a free and natural creature, was brought to heel. While the beast failed to frighten Thelandria, for the attos of Fern witnessed innumerable manifestations through the span of life, she ransacked memory for any recollection of the filth and stood tall.
❝Do not be afraid, Dragon. I shall help set you free.❞
Her words were spoken not aloud, but sought to privately render the forest dragon reassured. Alone the Dragon stood against darkness —— poisonous gases failing to deter it. Still the demon advanced, standing close in height to the creature it looked to tame. The Dragon further retreated.
Thelandria understood her task.
Sunlight withered beneath plumbaceous clouds as they pilfered the skies. A brisk wind picked up in the thick canopy surrounding the lakes. Thence wind turned to gust and gust meshed to form vigorous whirlwinds that would mire all in its wake. They sifted toward the demon as if of a mind of their own. Thelandria watched, strategizing, calculating; wanting not to intervene ill-informed. Nay, that would be of benefit to neither of them.
The clamor of thunder, the shriek of lightning, and the whistle of whirlwinds were the weapons that would see the dragon parted from it's assailant.
Thelandria, Attos of the City of Fern, would have it so.
