Old Gods/Legends/Miracle

The Miracle

The noon sky darkens deeper and deeper to a midnight hue. The sun, still bright, was as effective as a torch underwater. Cold winds shake the very roof of the world as the sky ripples like a water skimmer dances across a pond. There are no clouds as thunder rumbles across the region and no lightning with the crack that follows.

A line following the currents of the world swept and sprinted across the sky with a golden light, visible from the entire region. Slowly, the crack in the sky began to split as if pulled apart by invisible hands straining against the universe's desire to remain shut. Silvery light like a web, filled the hole in the sky stretching endlessly beyond what man could see. Before one could truly admire the spectacle, the truth let out a cry.

The roaring shadows from beyond the light were impossible to miss. Serpentine necks coiled around each other as nearly a dozen Dragons peered down into the world below, growling and raging. One slammed against the silvery web and it was not hard to understand the message it sent. Then another. Another. The web strained taut, and the sky shuddered. The region held its breath.

A bright light streaked through the sky, and where it collided with the rift a gout of purple flames burst. The Dragons roared almost in a panic as a second light struck. Then a third. Where the flames struck the sky slowly repaired itself and daylight returned until finally there was no sign of the disturbance.