Aeolian

In the line of Amadeus, magic comes from music within one’s heart. From a flute to the harp, all instruments carry a voice, a power they seek to unleash to the world. Her father had strings, with violins being heard whenever magic was performed by him.

For Aeolian though… The winds carry a song of woodwinds. A drone flute to be precise. They were her only comfort when flying high in the air (an accident in Windswept Plateau had left her terrified of heights as a whole), quietly humming to distract herself from the idea of another incident.

Still, she had to go. Go onward towards the stars for Taara’s sake. “...She owes me after this- at least those hatchlings will get a good rest if my spell works when I’m there. Assuming what she’s telling me is true…”

And thus, wrapped in firefly light and humming a tune from her father, the dragon flew.