There is a legend,
that all the children of Trivern know, about how the land came to be.
Many millennia ago, when the world was still in its formative phases,
everything looked very different. The world was grey and dark.
Earthquakes shook the world to its core, causing tremors to anger the
sea which would cast its oppressive dark waters over the land,
destroying any life that was struggling to grow. Volcanoes rose from
the land spewing hot lava over the soil and into the seas. There was
no colour as we know it today. The lava was a dark grey and appeared
to be like a grey steaming oil. The waters were murky and, in the
depths,, completely black. Even when the sun managed to peak through
the dense clouds, it simply helped to dispel some of the ever-lurking
shadows.
Life
struggled to grow. That which was able to overcome the hostility of
the world was often condemned to short existence. The rest of the
world was a forbidding environment of stone and water. Many leagues
from the sea, there was a volcano that had not spewed its lava in a
long time. This was the tallest volcano in the land which stretched
its menacing peak into the heavens. At the base of this towering
volcano grew a small and delicate flower. Shielded from the storming
winds, hidden from the furious waters and unthreatened by burning
lava, the little flower managed to grow a short stem from which
protruded long, nearly transparent petals which held tightly together
at their point, as though the flower was unwilling to open herself to
the cruelty of the world.
One
day, which seemed to be like any other, the world would change
completely. On the night of the thirteenth full moon of the world's
cycle around the sun, the ground near the flower began to shake and
the volcano began to emit grey dust. With a burst of ash and smoke,
the sky was blackened. Hot liquid began to roll down the rocky sides
of the monstrous volcano. As it got nearer to the flower, the ash
covering the moon began to dissipate. It was as though the moon had
carved out a space for itself to be able to watch the destruction of
this volcanic eruption. The lava hurried down, closer to the flower,
destroying any living object in its path. As it reached the flower,
it was as though the moon grew brighter and when the first tendril of
flame from the lava licked the flower it itself erupted in beautiful
fury and radiance. It blossomed and broke the colourless chains that
gripped the world. From within its petals came three flying balls of
light, which flew up a few feet and exploded, scattering blinding
light. In the aftermath of the explosions there were three small
flying dragons (describe). As they looked around at their
surroundings, they could see the bright, passionate red of the lava
engulfing the land, the blue shimmer of the moon, casting her rays
down onto the golden flower which had thrown out her petals to create
the creatures. The creatures looked at each other with recognition of
the role each would play bearers of red, blue and yellow. The colours
being emblazoned within their scales.
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