Darwin

His first memory was cold, hard ground. He was abandoned, possibly the only survivor of his clan. Shade gripped the pale stone steps where he laid, matching the desolation inside the dragon. Barely finished shedding his hatchling down, the young dragon was already on the brink of oblivion.

Just over a week old, and he was all on his own. Many dragons left their homes as hatchlings or young adults, but very few ever had to fend for themselves. He had been given a silly name, Duttle, by his mother, who was young and had never given life to a nest of hatchlings before. Now, he would die all alone with no family, no clan, and no meaning in his too short lifetime.

No, he wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. If nothing else, he had to try. What disgrace he would bring his late family, friends, and elders if he did nothing but lay there and waste away! He had to do something, anything, even if he couldn't make it up a single, measly step.

With all his might, he crept up the steps. Each movement took a whole clan's worth of strength from the small dragon, and all he could do was hope for a passing dragon to spot him and bring him to safety. He was certain he wouldn't make it that far, but what else could he do? Just give up? The idea was tempting, but the shame he felt at the mere thought of giving in prevented him from stopping

After what seemed like eons, he ascended to the fifth step. A piercing bright light flooded his eyes, and warmth flooded his senses. Above him, bright beams streamed through the trees. He hadn't thought warmth like this was possible, but here it was, renewing his strength and drowning him in pure light. He hadn't been taught much before his clan was destroyed, but he knew immediately that this blessing could only be the work of the Lightweaver, the deity all who called this land their own served.

He lifted his head from the stone, where he had collapsed in his struggle. Slowly, he rose to his feet, each limb a feather supporting his cloud of a body. The dragon, now full of blessings and promise, could see a shining blue sea just beyond the gently rolling hills of golden flora and worn-down ruins. There, on the highest hill, was a tower. It overlooked the sea with subtle might. Though it was cracked and crumbling, it was a promise all its own; the dragon, who fashioned a new name for himself, Darwin, could make a new life for himself here.

Darwin traveled across the expanse of the Sunbeam Ruins, scouting for possible homes. There was no sign of his old home, but he didn't need to find it; his past was gone forever, and all he had was the shining present. Eventually he came across a giant platform of gleaming white stones, with a single slanted spire in the center. Others had settled here, he knew, and others were still occupying the area. Still, he would have plenty of room to start a mighty clan, one that could be as eternal as the glorious Lightweaver and the ethereal land she called her own.