Ashes. The dragon could remember nothing more. He awoke under clotted skies under the gaze of a sun choked with smoke and haze. Ashes covered him. Black, papery sheets that crumbled as he moved. He shifted beneath piles of it. As the dragon set his feet down, it took a moment longer than expected, he began to sink again before his claws met the earth but before he touched the ground, the dragon had the terrifying feeling that there may be no earth below him- that perhaps as he slept the world had burned away to its core, leaving nothing solid behind.

But there was ground beneath him. The wildclaw was only resting in a shallow rut and once he began to walk the ashes fell away until he was free of them. Looking down he examined his claws, grey and cracked. His skin was no better; burned off completely in patches and singed in other places.

There was nothing else. Only him and the endless hills of ash. Yet when the dragon looked behind him, far in the distance, set impossibly high against the world around him; a volcano jutted from the bare earth. He felt propelled towards it. By some innate desire or primal urge out of his control, frightening in its sudden power over him. There was nowhere else to go. Whatever he felt inside promised reward upon reaching this destination.

And so, the dragon set out across the plains.

----

The sun did not set, nor did it rise. In fact, if it moved from its position at all, the dragon was unaware. The sky remained a blanket of shale. There were no bones beneath his feet, no metal or rocks. No remnants of what had been burned. Just ash.

Perhaps only days had passed since the wildclaw set out towards the volcano, but it felt like months. It seemed as though the world would never hold color or beauty again. Had it held these things before, he wondered? The dragon became weary and so burdened by the oppressive nothingness that when he caught a glimpse of color in the distance, of pale orange against black stone, he moved twice as fast as before. A low rumble, sounding as if it came from the center of the volcano, reached his ears in waves, breaking the unbearable silence.

Can you hear the rumble that’s calling?

The pull to the volcano increased. Although some part of the wildclaw reasoned that he should be exhausted, unable to take another step, and near death, he felt none of these things. He ran. Faster and faster across the barren ground until he was nearly galloping. He felt full of energy and purpose, with only one objective in mind: reach the volcano. And once he found the source, whatever was drawing him closer, bringing life to his limbs and color to his world, he would never let go of it.
The volcano was incredibly easy to climb. Footholds were etched into the rock and paths wound up the sides. After a couple hours, the dragon found an entrance.

By now the rumbling had grown louder. The sound of it echoed through his body like thunder. He felt a warmth- a subtle and wonderful feeling even on the scorched parts of his flesh. Ahead of him lay a towering archway. This was where he was meant to go, the wildclaw knew.

He crept to the doorway, feeling fear for the first time since he awoke. Inside, lounging in blinding pools of lava, lay the most enormous dragon the wildclaw had ever seen. She reached nearly to the sky above and her body was aflame. Hues of pale and vibrant orange flickered out from her neck across her head, encircling it like a crown.

The wildclaw knew he stood in the presence of a god.

“Why do you hide in the shadows, my dear?” The dragon asked him. Her voice, warm and guttural, drew him out from behind the pillars of stone.

“Come closer,” she breathed.

The heat escalated to a point that was almost unbearable. The lava around him and flames were too bright for his new eyes. He spoke then, for the first time.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Flamecaller, and I own this realm.” Slowly, she craned her neck down towards him. The brightness of her eyes seemed to distort the cavern around them. “This realm is not yet what it is supposed to be. I have a vision for what it can become- but I cannot do it alone. To spread this flame I carry, I need servants.”

“I will do it,” he told her, unable to look away from her eyes. He knew then, without a doubt, that the Flamecaller could bring beauty and life back into this land. Other realms must know of her glory. All must know.

Her voice was kind. “Of course you will.”

Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?

“I will change you into a thing of beauty, and you will go into the world speaking my name to all you see. Your eyes will burn eternal, a reminder of my power. Your belly will carry a flame, so that you will never lose your way. Your head shall be lit with my emblem, that all who see you would know me. And-” she said, rising up, lifting her wings on either side, “your name shall be Copia, for you are reborn.”

With these words the Flamecaller swiftly lowered her wings into the lava around her and a tsunami of molten fire filled the cavern, consuming the tiny wildclaw in front of her.

When the lava subsided, an entirely new dragon stood before her. Copia. His claws were as black as obsidian, his body was aglow with embers and power. His wings glittered like fire amber. Above his head, the Flamecaller’s sigil. But the most beautiful thing about Copia was his new eyes. They were orbs of fire set directly into his skull. Tongues of flame flickered out, in hues of orange and gold.

For the first time since waking up, Copia felt joy. The Flamecaller had shown him life- she had given him a purpose. Color. Warmth. Power. He would not rest until each dragon knew of the Flamecaller and came to serve her.

This was what he was made to do.

Lore by macaroni33

---

"Go forth, my flamekin! Spread our cinders far and wide, until all of Sornieth is ablaze with the Truth! Travel these lands like wildfire, and teach them the blessings of our Flamecaller.

Do not despair when they reject our teachings--they are hatchlings in the eyes of the Flamecaller, and parents must often act against their children for their own good. With time they will come to accept the Truth, and learn to love our Mother with all the warmth of a blazing hearth.

Our bodies will turn to ash, but our flames shall be eternal."

Lore by Erra