Trysta

Journey fandragon

Familiar dunes stretch across the horizon. A dark figure stands out against the rising sun, and a brilliant beacon radiates from it's center. The sand is gently blown with the wind, giving the impression the desert is alive. A red scarf is buried in the sand, dusted by the breeze. Trysta stood, taking it all in, with her own scarf tied around her neck. Somehow it felt as if she had been here before, but that was impossible. She had no memory, and so she wandered across the desolate lanscape alone, drawn to beacon of light that seemingly outshined the harsh sun.

"Why am I here? I seem to be alone. Trysta? It sounds familiar. Right. My name? Yes. That must be it. This all seems right. Like it shoud be this way. Like I was born for this."

Soon After

"I am here again. This familiar, looping route. The dunes ahead, with that beacon ever calling. How long will this last? Yet I still journey on. The music in me keeps me going. Despite the hot sun, or chilling winds, I push forwards, only to find myself at the beacon again. It is nice. Somehow warm. But then I end up here again. Why? Was I really born for this? The White ones seem to think so. What if I went beond the dunes. Maybe I'll go someday. But not now. I'll traverse the desert again. Maybe I'll get my own White cloak someday!"


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