Creative Corner

---Deep in the Everbloom Gardens, sat a massive area; “Garden of Advera, a place for Refugees and Outcasts," the sign read on the archway. It was filled with flowers of different species, hedges built of shrubs and trees cut into different shapes. In a clearing were the oldest 2 spirals who’d be sitting beside each other, tails interlocked. They are known as the leaders of this group, Lucris and Bellam. Beside them were 2 others, both sat in rather particular stances, as if they were in the higher ranks of the clan. The one reporting to them seemed rather angry, he is known as Melancholy. The other, Rhodonite, is writing down every word the Skydancer utters. You notice other dragons, one hammering at a glowing red sword in a sheltered area, one reading a rather suspicious book on a bench and a few more scattered about the massive building that the garden surrounded.
---You could see and hear everyone happy and chattering amongst one another. Amidst the noise you spot a merchant chatting up a couple, seemingly trying to sell them a jewelry set. The smaller one of the 2, Toc , gently tells him that they’ve got to be going. While the Wildclaw seems to give it one last push. The taller one, Stormjumper, quietly strides up to him, grabbing the jewelry from his claws and throwing it towards his wagon.” Leave us alone Athran. We don’t want any of your junk!” As the 2 Skydancers walk in another direction the wildclaw slinks to the box, picks it up and trudges to his cart.
---Turning towards the building, you go inside and to your right you see a sign that reads “ARA’S FREE LIBRARY”, filled to the brim with books and in smaller print under it “take what you like! I have plenty to spare!” along with friendly black cat laying on the desk. You see a dragon in the back who seems to be reading an old book. You assume that’s Ara.



---This fortress was founded a bit later than the Garden was. It had been constructed as a way to be away from Advera and their weird ways. Even though they had the same way of keeping routine and hierarchy. They had different views on how a ruler should act and how they dictate their subjects. The Duke, Seraphim, had always thought that leaders should be demanding, intimidating and instill terror into his dragons. He had always thought this but never had anyone to join him. Darkmount consists of a broken building, melted by the spores from the Plague war. There were broken buildings and camps here and there. In the fog, you could see smoke rising from the west.
---As you pad towards the smoke you come up on a small camp. There’s very few dragons but they look strong. They give you stares as you come up to the entrance. You notice the most dangerous looking, Tarragon, as he sits in the middle of the group, sharpening his jagged claws. Fenrir, a dark Banescale, looks down at you with confused anger and turns to the next a small Pearlcatcher, Gyre, whispering something behind big claws.
---You look behind the dragons and notice the most intimidating one. A gigantic Imperial, dark in color but his wings shone brightly as colors rippled through them. Although he looks like he could be a kinda fellow, he isn’t. He’s many dragons who owe debt under his claws and he isn’t willing to let them go so easily. He is Seraphim, leader of Darkmount.

---As the new settlement was finally mellowing down, there’d be a calling. No dragon knew who or what made the sound, so as they all left their tents and spaces by the fire they found where it was coming from. Lucris. She had made a shrill, high pitched whistle, everyone gathered round her as she began to stop.
---“Good evening everyone. I know it’s been a tiring day and night but I must make an announcement.”She’d speak, her voice calm yet tired. “We must propose a name for our new home, for this is where we will be staying until our last breaths, if you so choose.” As the 5 other dragons look to her and Bellam as they stand side by side, closest to the fire, she spoke again. “I feel we should each pick a name of our own then have a vote! It shall be fair and no one will be laughed at or ridiculed due to their choice.” She’d finished and everyone had thought of a name. Ravans, said one, another shouted Koni and so on and so forth until a quiet voice piped up “Advera, Garden of Advera” Everyone stopped, looked at the dragon who said it, a small Obsidian and Pale pink skydancer. “Oh.. Sorry, I- I shouldn’t have said that!” The Skydancer then backed down as if she were terrified of the others mocking her name for this sanctuary. Although, as everything grew quieter one dragon started chanting, “Advera! Advera!” Soon the others joined in, and The Garden of Advera was formed.

---

---Tarragon spotted him first, a young imperial, burns scattered about his scales. He stepped forward to examine the lone dragon. The others saw what Tarragon saw and padded beside him. “Well.. that's a sight to see..” Fenrir muttered as Gyre gasped in shock.
---They dragged the barely alive dragon inch by inch, not caring much what injuries he would get, seeing as he was mostly a lost cause. They started patching him up from mere splinters to massive 3rd degree burns. “How could this happen to someone? Why would others do this?” Gyre piped up, sympathy melting from her soft voice. She has always been the caring type albeit not to her victims.
---As the imperial began to stir, the other backed away cautiously. He lifted his head and looked around. “Where- where am I? And who are you?!” He asked startled. “You're welcome for saving your life. And we should be asking who you are.” Tarragon growled. The imperial slowly sat up, lightheadedness hitting him. “I am Seraphim, leader of Crowves.”
---“A leader, huh? Don’t look much like one. You said Crowves?” The imperial nodded, “Indeed, I’ve led for many years now, but they had exiled me.” The three looked at each other, not wanting so easily to trust this stranger. Tarragon had finally broken eye contact and gestured to Seraphim to follow him. Tarragon had taken him to make shift nests, pointing to one he said “You’ll stay until you're healed or have proven yourself to us. This is where you sleep. In the morning, we’ll begin training, I’m sure your guards back at Crowves had taught you nothing.” He said pointedly. Seraphim was not known as a king here. He was an outcast, the runt of the group. He had to start all over, climbing the ranks to get into power once again. He laid and closed his eyes. As the imperial was drifting off into slumber, he had remembered what he ran from, the fire, the screaming, all of it was just a bad memory. He could finally start anew, and maybe, just maybe, lead how he thought he was supposed to.