The Library of Heliochron was one of the most popular locations in the Tragon territories of Keros, but today, the Library was oddly empty. The majority of the Tragon population was out on the streets, celebrating the holiness of their deity, the Whenvern, partying, drinking, playing in the honour of the Time Lord. In fact, the only being in the library was Thisia, the library’s keeper, who was rifling through a large pile of scrolls in the archives, taking this opportunity to do some research.
The Tragons were a proud race of obviously draconic beings. They were slender, attractive, powerful beings, born in a rainbow of colours, with tough, silver horns, gems embedded within their scales and wings made from a beautiful combination of shimmering velvet and silk. Every Tragon was vastly intelligent, capable of using magic as well as their fierce teeth and claws. These powerful dragons were almost perfect in every way, loyal and kind to each other, vicious towards their enemies and always working towards a better future. Many would have considered them a symbol of prosperity and a target for all other races to aspire to… If other races knew they existed.
This fact bothered Thisia greatly. The Tragons were an amazing specimen of life and no one had ever heard of them. Heck, the Tragons had barely heard of themselves. They existed but had np idea where they had come from. They were unrelated to any other race in any other way. No genetic relations, no trading, no politics, nothing. The Tragons were completely isolated from the rest of existence.
Worse, the Tragons seemed to have no past. They existed, they built their society and that was it. The Tragons had a military but had not experienced war. They had a government but had never experienced revolutions or corruption. They had food and water and farms yet had never faced famine.
It was as if the Tragons had spontaneously burst into existence.
Thisia though was determined to… find out more. Find something, at least. Anything. All she knew was that they had a connection to the Whenvern, just like all draconic beings.
Something smashed on the desk in front of Thisia, making her amethyst eyes widen.
“Hey, angel!” Fafnis, an obsidian and dark-purple studded Tragon laughed as he dropped a second bag of gems in front of Thisia. “Why you working?”
“I am not working, I am studying!” Thisia protested.
“Same thing. No one else is working.”
Thisia sighed. “Is there something you want, Fafnis?”
“I wanna spend time with you and celebrate! Can you not… do this later?”
“It’s important, Fafnis!” Thisia grunted. “We have all these unsolved mysteries and no one seems to care at all! It’s literally just me and I want to be able to find… something at least!”
“Yeah, but do you have to do it all now?” Fafnis asked. “I mean, everyone else is celebrating…”
With another sigh, Thisia’s eyes scanned the scrolls. Fafnis was right. She could do her research later.
“Alright. I’ll come celebrate with you!” Thisia finally smiled as she got up from her chair and followed Fafnis outside.