"The world as you knew it is gone, Fledge."
The words of an 18 year old Ash Dragonblade rolled around in my head as I sat on the bed. My friend and Twilly made sure Tyloria and I got a room at the Falconreach Inn; the moglin insisted I get some rest after having broken out of my icy prison earlier that day. If crying my eyes out counted as rest, then yeah, I obeyed.
Why was I crying?...There's so much to take in...first of all the whole getting frozen thing, then waking and breaking out five years later to find I've missed up to my 23rd birthday. Also, I've gotta figure out who the heck is this Rose, what do they want, why they don't like magic or magical creatures, and why it's gaining so much power. I don't understand. Lore is practically soaked in mana, used for both good and evil, but that's life for you. You can make good or bad of situations. Like my hair and feather tips, talons, and eye-markings turning blue from the magical ice... I'm starting to think it looks kinda pretty.
Anyways, I'm still the Hero of Lore five years later. People still remember my name, some in friendship, others with anger. And either way, I am the one who protects their SoulThreads-or cuts them. I accept my duty now as much as I did in the past.
I slowly rise from the bed and put on my Soulweaver hood and wrap, as well as my Spirit Looms. "Tyloria?" I asked the grey form on the foot of the bed as I look over my still skinny frame in the mirror.
The baby wind dragon lifted her head. "Yes, Mistress?"
I turned to her, "What do you say we go give our new Rose friends some hellos while we take a walk in Surewould Forest?" I feel the beginnings of a smirk.
She bounded to my side, feathered wings quivering. "Oh yes, I want that very much!" We opened the window, flying out into a new world, rising on the wind like spirits of hope.