Enter Drackling's Realm -- sanctuary of fantasy, dragons, poetry, art, music, and more
You wake up to a starry sky, millions upon millions of stars shining down upon you -- the moon pale and beautiful, floating in the dark of the night. You feel as if you've never slept nor woke, and suddenly you hear a noise, the whispering sound of wings sliding against rows upon rows of scales ...
You wirl around to stare at the dragon facing you with eyes of eternally burning embers, surprised you knew what it was before you saw it. It answers your unspoken question before you think it: "You are at the Isle of Portals, where all those who enter must leave eventually." You blink, and again the creature answers what you did not ask in a voice as dry and ancient as parchment: "One of the stars you see in the sky above you leads you to Drackling's Realm -- it is a portal as old as time itself and myself ... I will take you to this portal if you answer me one question."
You stare at its eyes of fire and whisper yes.
"This thing all things devours:
Birds, beast, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down.
What is it?"
--riddle by J.R.R. Tolkien
picture by Wayne Anderson
The tide recedes but leaves behind bright seashells on the sand,
The sun goes down, but gentle warmth still lingers on the land,
The music stops, and yet it echoes on in sweet refrains...
For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains.
This dove will always take you to a random page within my realm, and you shall see it again often: