Rasthin's Rest

Before the cataclysm that shattered the region, Rasthin held a forum here for the other dragonkin to air their grievances. Mostly, it was an excuse for them to rant. They saw each other only every few years, if they could help it, and, when they got together, all they ever really did was complain.

In the times that Rasthin was left alone, she would cultivate a garden. She had seeds that had been preserved from worlds that existed before this universe came to be, and she dreamed of what they might look like in full bloom.

Alas, Rasthin was attuned to the flame, not the leaf, and one by one the plants ignited into embers and vanished into ash.

She should perhaps have seen it as a warning. Viika, after all, had warned her of impending doom and destruction, exclaiming how all her plans would end like the plants she so carefully cultivated. Yet, Rasthin never listened.

Like her garden, Rasthin is naught but ash, and all that remains of her legacy is embers.