Unnamed

It had been a joyous day. The Obelisks had emerged, a baffling gift from the Earthshaker to the world of Sorneith. One by one the great dragons had awoken, shaking loose sheets of stone from their colorful hides. The former statues left the tunnels of the Dustcarve Dig and stepped into the sun. At first it was a flood, then a stream, then a trickle. In time, all of the Obelisks began finding homes in clans all across the map, or in the ranks of the exalted serving the deities. All but one. One statue sat in the abandoned tunnels, accompanied by the faint dripping of water, the climbing of moss up it's sides, and one increasingly anxious Fae. A late hatcher herself, the Fae kept vigil with this stone-encrusted companion. The Fae had hatched alone. This Obelisk would not.

Days passed into weeks, fading into the monotony of years. The Obelisk had not so much as shifted, but the Fae remained undeterred. She read aloud everything from the classics to sappy fanfiction, sang until her voice seemed to fill the caverns like water. Stalactites became a personal obstacle course, taken at increasingly reckless speeds, and at the end of every day she collapsed into the pile of soft fabrics that made a nest between the Obelisk's wings. "Tomorrow," she'd always say, "Tomorrow you'll wake up."

A day came that the Fae was awoken by an echoing cracking sound and a collision with the floor. She looked up to see the great wings shuddering, raining small flakes of petrified earth onto the Fae's tiny body. Seeing larger pieces of stone beginning to come loose, the tiny dragon retreated to a safe distance to observe the long-awaited spectacle. The great head of the Obelisk shook, shedding the casing on a curling mane of pale blue. The dragon's paws flexed. They shifted their legs to the sound of grinding stone. But no more fell.