Imagine a world (or not, your decision) in which everyone is capable of magic. Now imagine this world is that of an ancient one, with enough mysteries to last forever.
They hear stories of ancient people who brought their followers to live somewher...
Etho watched as the sun rose over the distant Flamis, the small savannah town, and began to ponder the origins of the earthquakes.
"Uh, Etho?" Etho could hear Tango's unique footsteps approach from behind him. "Hello, hi. Where did you go?"
"Nowhere," He replied, shrugging from his position, sat leaning against an acacia tree. "I ended up cutting my arm trying to sit in the branches of this tree, but it's alright, now."
"Oh, oh no!" Tango seemed reasonably worried. "Do you need a bandage, or something?"
"That-" He stuttered. "That would help, yes"
Tango whipped a bandage out of nowhere and put it on the scratch on Etho's forearm.
"Thanks!" He smiled.
"No problem, my guy." Tango walked back to camp, turning back to give Etho a friendly smile.
Etho returned the smile, and flickered his gaze back over the horizon. The long grass waved a little to violently for his comfort. The shaking motion moved towards them in a wave. What few trees stood in its path moved unsettlingly as if caught in a cyclone.
The wave passed over them in a second. Enough of a rumble to nearly knock him of hiss feet.
He gained his balance in a moment, twirling his attention to camp. He was a good distance away, and as such, propelled himself forwards using his gift of gust.
"Everything alright?" He asked as he landed, jarring his upper body. "Nothing fell?"
"We're good!" The affirmation came from Impulse, sitting in the broken grass around camp.
"All good here," Cried Bdubs and Pearl in mild synchronization as they stood by the kindling pile of dry grasses and small branches.
"Mhm," Tango gave a hum of affirmation, grabbing a pile of grass from the kindling pile and lighting it in his hand, before tossing it into the fire. "It just seemed a bit frightening, but nothing got damaged."
The camp repaired itself in that moment, before Tango continued. "This seems like a good of a time as ever to give you an old letter I wrote Great Tevinte knows how long ago." He searched in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out a small, pristine piece of paper.
"I was kind of expecting it to look like it was written ages ago," Impulse laughed, laying on his back.
"Oh, heh, I kept it on me, just before I got dragged into the ice palace and frozen for around four centuries," He said in a dismissive manner.
"Oh." Was all Etho could say.
"Anyways, have a read." He handed the paper scrap to Etho.
He looked down at the paper, scrawled in messy handwriting. It was legible, though, not in any ancient language.
"I never could understand galactic," Tango expressed. "And my handwriting's a bit messy. Sorry."
"It's alright," Etho replied.
The handwriting was a bit difficult to read, but he made out the sentences that it contained.
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