She’d known nothing but the cliffs her entire life. The scorching sun casts an eternal summer on the dusty lands so similar to the desert. The wind’s often fair and blows the feathers of the great eagles clear across the azure sky. She likes to watch the little eagles find their wings for the first time and thinks of their parents hunting game in the valleys below.Â
Sunlight rarely breaks into the grim sin filled streets of her hometown’s slums. The bad deeds of the citizens blot the light and wickedness reigns darkness upon those born without silver spoons in their mouths. At night it’s black as pitch, dark as her hair and the only lights that act as beacons to the people there are the late night alehouses and lamps on the street.Â
The nights on the cliffs are cold and she hears is doubly so in the desert and north where the snow filled mountains look barren in heaps of snow. She’d like to see a place frozen in eternal winter clean and covering up everything dirty.Â
The daily climb she took to the high born houses has been swapped out with the winding path of the road through the cliffs, down valleys, and up more cliffs. The mountain air is fresh free of the scent of garbage and dirtied water. Despite the dust on the path she breathes easily and finds a rhythm as she walks.Â
Small hands cling to the underside of the egg as she keeps it hidden and tucked away from the world. If her egg master is right they’ll have to find a proper heating source to kindle the life within. Until then she’d wrap it tight and make sure it’s comfortable.Â
đť“ uarrycrest feels like its a lifetime away now. đť“šaia’s glad to be away from people and solely in the company of people she trusts. The exclamation of the egg master gave her pause and she felt fear that someone heard his jovial cry over her treasure. She passed her time in the town unbothered and regained confidence only a handful of people know of the egg and its existence.Â
Professor 𝓒yrus looks about as keen as her to leave and as she keeps a pace behind him she stops, “Well I’ll be. That there’s eyebright.” She reaches out and tugs the conical white flower along with its leafy stalk as she joins him again. “Say are we to pass through the Riverlands? Never been down there before I heard they’re right gorgeous. I always wanted to try fishing,” she prattles on excited as ever. “I canna imagine a place being filled with green but I heard they’re green there. Some of the big houses had gardens but they got brown ever so fast. What time should it be autumn or winter? I don’t think I’d like to pass through when there’s nothing growing.”
Dragons; a mythical creature that was foretold of over generations, yet the amount of those who claimed to have met one was nearly none. Cyrus certainly wondered how it would be, to encounter a mystical being that continuously eluded humans, generation after generation. While it was never his major focus in research, he often came across the mention of dragons even in fields that seemed to be unrelated. What were the connections? Why did such a fleeting creature hold a hand in many of Orsterra’s secrets?
There was so much to be discovered!
What luck was it to come across Kaia, who claimed to have a real dragon egg -- at first, the scholar was skeptical, yet intrigued. Were it to be a real dragon egg, what would possibly happen? Was it good fortune or an ill omen? As the party assisted Kaia in her journey, what stunned Cyrus was the egg master’s maniacal joy upon seeing the egg. A real dragon’s egg.
What might happen, should the dragon hatch anytime soon?
Accompanying Kaia on her journey, the scholar stopped as the young girl stopped to pluck a flower before coming back to his side. He smiled at her, almost about to comment before she expressed excitement over the Riverlands. They were moving east, and there was certainly time to explore before continuing on. “We certainly will pass the Riverlands,” he grinned, “and it is truly a gorgeous place to be. The weather is kind and the air is clean. Last I was there, I found it difficult to find anyplace without greenery. In comparison to the Clifflands, there is a stark contrast.”
“Unless you feel rushed, there is no reason we can’t make a stop in the Riverlands. How about a quick stop in Clearbrook, if you’d like to fish? I gather that you would like to stay a night, even. The people there are very pleasant -- and their seafood dishes are one of a kind.”
