The Silence Before the Cry
There are children who do not play anymore.
Who do not laugh, because the sky fell before they learned to spell “peace.”
They are not ghosts, but we walk past them like they are invisible.
Their suffering is not history—it is now.
This is not a painting.
This is a warning.
The world must not wait for every color to bleed out before we care.
The time to speak, to act, to hold each other up—is before the silence becomes permanent.
🐉 Lore of the Dracobox: Legacy of the Dragon Mother 🐉
In the twilight of the Elder Realms, when the veil between worlds shimmered with magic and moonlight, there walked a being of immense grace and flame—the Dragon Mother. She soared beyond mountains and clouds, her breath weaving stars into the night and her wings stirring the winds of destiny.
It is said that in those ancient days, the Dragon Mother sought not just warriors or kings, but hearts filled with quiet goodness. To such rare souls, she left a sacred gift at their doorstep under the cover of a misty dawn: a Dracobox—a small, enchanted musical-box, no larger than a loaf of bread, pulsating with warmth and light.
Each Dracobox contained one singular, irreplaceable baby dragon, born not from fire or egg, but from memory, kindness, and ancestral flame. No two dragons were alike. Some bore antlers of crystal, others tails of lightning, wings of petal or snow. Their colors matched their soul’s purpose. Their eyes held the future of worlds unseen.
The families who received these boxes were not chosen for status or strength, but for their capacity to nurture wonder. If raised with love, the baby dragon would one day return to the skies to reclaim its true form and place among the Skyborne Courts, where the real war of light and shadow was always brewing.
These dragons are exceedingly rare—one in a million lifetimes—and their boxes have stopped appearing... until now.
