Where butterflies go when it rains

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There was once a prophecy

about the arrival of an immortal

on an island in the sky.


Though they knew not to whom who such blessed fate belonged to, they believed that he would one day come to hallow the land with his presence and bring—along with him—the hope of life after death.


*


It was Falrir's first appearance on the coldest winter night—arriving on the front steps of the main building in robes that were rags having braved through the night—when they believed him to be the one who had come to save. It was the feat he had accomplished, per se, the feat known impossible to all of their kind, having arrived on the island without invitation or the help of an airship; for such an impossible feat was not meant to be achieved by a boy of his age.

He was a miracle; the magic they had so desired for such a long time and now, he was here.

There was a celebration—an immediate rejoicing of his awakening and then, his coming. The lights on the island did not dull throughout the night. It burned like an immortal flame, one that reminded the dragon of something he thought he had seen a long time ago but slipped his mind.

Soon however, came morning that washed away the darkness. It was then that the dragon's curse laid itself bare for the world to see:


At first light, he would return to his original form of a dragon and leave the island in search for the impurities of the world.

There, he was punished to destroy what he found—destroy them with a single breath of his flames. Seeking and removing sin; this was what they thought to be his curse till nightfall,

Where he would once again, return to the island


Ruined.



________________________



The dragon often spent his nights—his only time as a human—reading in a quaint corner of the library, unbeknownst to the fact that closing hours were long over. He felt a certain draw to human minds and their curious antics and their words therefore, intriguing to read.

There was hardly any obligation for him to delve into the books he read—their topics seemingly unrelated to his academics and were not the kind that would interest ordinary students; such were those who surrounded him with praise and glory. He read about the times that existed before his awakening, the times that were feared but now that he was here, were over.

It placed a heavy burden upon his shoulders. There were people around, but he was quite alone.


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