From fire, from storm, from ruin, the great spirits emerged. They appeared during a period of great conflict, and many thought them a byproduct of their own doing. Some sought them for their power, while others cursed them for their presence.
These spirits knew nothing of the world. Of cruelty or glory. When they did react, it was to something unthinkable. Forbidden, hidden, lost and destroyed. It mattered not. They bore the full might of creation, holding nothing back. Not for past, present, nor future.
They struck a blow that shook the land and split the known world. Life in all its forms became still as night and day came undone.
From the cracks, hope spilled into the world. Destruction yielded a fresh start, and lesser spirits began to fill the hearts of many. Those who were once lost returned home. Even the legends long since dead were reincarnated.
Demise bore the greatest illusion they had ever known, and by the will of the great spirits, it had been banished from their world.
The treasures of the city vaporized in an instant. Smoke rose, and ashes smoldered. The silhouette of a great being moved on.
It wasn’t able to reach a resting place before a spark emerged from the refuse. Pinging of the scales and splintering the darkness.
“You’re not rid of me yet!”
From layers of debris and countless treasures, heat leapt into the air as golden threads. A ball of yarn, a meager sun. The converging threads began to melt even exhausted fumes into a roaring blaze.
From their hand, emerged a needle and thread. The boy swept his arm and a streak of light plowed the landscape.
“Do you know a way out of here, or will I have to make one myself!?”
There was a rumbling in the shadows. A tension shed in waves that bordered on concussive to the much smaller creature. The later however was resilient enough to endure.
“You are a fool to return here. Knowing what you do about the days to come.”
I stuttered, “What? How could I, from a place such as this?”
Their growl caused my vision to swim, “Do not mock me. I see you standing there, and you are no child. The one you pretend to be might one day become worthy of my time. You-” It turned and bronze eyes brought a pressure that halted my very being, “-should not tread so lightly.”
The connection flickered like a screen. The core that resided in my own body lurched like a blade thrust. Pouring a feverish heat in warning.
“A dragon. That really was a dragon!” Eh? “Alright clockmaker, I get the message.”
A battery of clacks leapt from my hands before they alighted on the nearby roots, “Alright, O’ great guardian of the hoard. Time to seize the day.”