hello everyone! please buckle in because i am about to be an unstoppable force unable to shut up about my fantribes and alt tfoh timeline branch au
note that many things are bolded, italicized, colored differently for more readability and to bring focus to important points!
THIS WILL PROBABLY BE DIVIDED INTO MULTIPLE POSTS/REBLOGS!! i have a HUGE amount of development for this story you have no fucking clue
THE PREMISE & THE PLACE
So, first things first: Where are we in this quaint little alternate universe that totally doesn’t have at least two massive intertwining overcomplicated plotlines?
We are on Tipula! (No completed map as of current.) Tipula is the primary title of various genera of crane fly, a family which incidentally has the rarest insect species known to date under its tree.
Now, what’s so important about Tipula? Why are we here?
Tipula is the last of the seven dragon continents (Pyrrhia, Pantala, Oedalus, Vespina, Aedes, Povilla), in the context of surviving the spread of the othermind.
Yeah, sorry, guys, it’s that kind of AU—even though I don’t delve into the WoF community much, I’m sure it’s done to death at this point. BUT! I like to think my spin on it is completely unique in its own right!
Moving on!
How has Tipula survived? What happened to everyone else?
Centuries upon centuries ago, in the dying breaths of Tipula’s last animus, she cast a spell that protected the entirety of the continent from invaders. But that’s not all: the enchantment held her spirit, which would guide dragons fleeing from tragedy and disaster to Tipula’s shores. To anyone else, it was hidden. Imperceivable and nonexistent to those who had never heard of it in the first place.
Even before realizing Luna’s failure, many dragons had already prepared themselves to leave; inhabitants of Pyrrhia and Pantala alike. Somehow, some way, something of perhaps two hundred or more dragons escaped the horrible disaster that was beginning to take place.
Many did not survive. But many more held on, flying until their wings ached and screamed. Carrying their tired, crying children and leaning to the sides of the elderly when they could hardly keep up, eggs wrapped carefully in bags of some kind or another—only for many to be lost to sea. Barely finding any places of rest, driven from the shores of every new continent as they were greeted with only hostility and fear.
... There were whispers in Lichen’s ears.
A frail old RainWing, never having been pushed this far for this long. No suntime, no naps, no fruit or hammocks or furry friends... but she was old enough to know tragedy. She knew how to push forward, and how to motivate the youth of her tribe to keep moving when they grew bitter and hopeless.
Perhaps her age was getting the better of her, her deteriorating mind telling her things that didn’t quite make sense.
Still, she pulled herself to the front of the exhausted group, and murmured in the ear of her queen. She repeated the words that had been spoken to her just moments before.
“Angle yourselves further left. There is a small tropical island, with enough food for every dragon to have one meal. It is safe to rest there. Then fly straight, and you will be guided the rest of the way.”
Glory seemed as bewildered and uncertain as Lichen herself, but, seeing as they were already aimless in their flight, she relayed the information to the queens that had come along and still survived this far.
(Ruby’s confidence was unwavering, and it had gotten her all the way up to here. Snowfall would do anything for her tribe, determined to prove she could survive for their sake. Coral and the SeaWings were already well-built for such a journey regardless. But Moorhen had been lost to the waves when the first storm hit six days prior, and Thorn had refused to leave without at least trying to save their home.)
It seemed crazy. And yet, their hope at its last embers, they took a chance.
And there it was: the island. Relieved at such a miracle, they settled down; replenishing their energy until they all felt they could move forward again.
In the distance, the blurred figure of a dragon flew forth. Not knowing what else to do, they followed. Their uncertainties and their fears were cast aside, knowing, ultimately, this was their only hope. Now was not the time for doubt, for questions, for hesitation: they had to trust that this would lead them to safety.
...
One by one, talons met sand. One hundred and thirteen dragons landed on the shores of Tipula, greeted by curious eyes and a kindness they had not been granted for days on end. These dragons had not known war or continental conflict: their priority was peace and knowledge, acceptance first and foremost. There were no queens, no rulers—but instead a council that decided the laws with input from all the tribes across the continent, and oversaw the fair trials of all alleged criminals.
The refugees settled in. Purity of blood could not upheld, and centuries passed, the number of Tipulan tribes almost doubling as division of bloodlines created entirely new dragons.
Originally, Tipula had CavernWings, CloudWings, BlazeWings, and... BeetleWings. BeetleWings had come from this continent, and, as it seemed... they were not lost to time at all.
Now, seven new tribes exist among them: ScaldWings, DustWings, FrostWings, GaleWings, SproutWings, VineWings, and... HiveWings, but not. Modern HiveWings, I call them.
All of these tribes will be covered in their own posts and/or reblogs! :)
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THIS POST IS CONSIDERED INCOMPLETE FOR NOW.
There are a LOT of story details I still need to fit in here, and I may have to reorganize plotpoints and rewrite paragraphs, plus I still need to figure out what I should be putting in separate posts instead of just here. Stay tuned! :)
And also I’m not done being an annoying highlighter with the text.
