Goddess In The Rust

Avrae climbed to his feet, the very effort causing an earthquake. The dragon ran his claw over his chest before sniffing at what'd not long ago been a gnarly wound. Then his gaze rested above where a battle of a different sort was still unfolding.

The sky was a rust colour, proof of the flash storm's origin, but there was also something else, a blue tear, pulsating and spreading to wash away the filth. I'd never seen anything like it, but it was clear that the spell wasn't complete, not by a long shot.

Non-existent clouds crashed and rumbled, threatening the prospect of further storms. Eventually, it began to sleet, despite the warm temperature outside. The droplets were murky-looking and gave the white stone a peculiar pearlescent sheen. Of course, as sleet became thickening orange snow, each flake was almost unique, with continuous swirling patterns at its centre.

'What's going on here?'

'Speaker Thrackshore, I'm not entirely certain.'