Glaesine crystal dragonfly
By finishing a certain quest at the Dragonfly Festival in 5107 one would be awarded a glaesine crystal dragonfly. The dragonfly is pin-worn and has the ability to transport the original owner from anywhere in Elanthia to Cysaegir once a month, or once a week if the owner is Aelotoi. Simply wear the dragonfly, then touch it to instantly travel to that town. The dragonflies were awarded in a 'locked' state, but could be unlocked by a merchant to attain more zests.
The flower and wood type can vary. Here are two examples:
This delicate dragonfly has been carved from a single piece of iridescent glaesine crystal. It has been etched with such exceptional detail that the prismatic hues of the wings make it appear strikingly realistic. Poised on some mournbloom flowers' carved from haon, the sculpture embodies the inherent beauty of the Cysaegir dragonfly. There appears to be something written on it.
This delicate dragonfly has been carved from a single piece of iridescent glaesine crystal. It has been etched with such exceptional detail that the prismatic hues of the wings make it appear strikingly realistic. Poised on a morning glory carved from maoral, the sculpture embodies the inherent beauty of the Cysaegir dragonfly. There appears to be something written on it. In the Common language, it reads: To preserve the memory of the past, the struggle of the present, the hope of the future, and the honor of all.
To win the dragonfly, one had to find a list of fifty flowers and other forageables. Several items on the list were not forageable, but had to be found along Whistler's Pass where they randomly spawned. Mentioning zinnia or dahlia to those involved in the early stages of the quest can still send them into fits of panic and rage. The spawn rates were increased as the festival went on, making it easier to complete the quest.
At first the quest was broken and would take any forageable for credit, not just the ones on the list. The first to finish were very sad when they realized that they had not actually figured out a complicated riddle, but won via a bug.
These are the Tier 3 scripts. Not all dragonflies will have all scripts.
|?||You wiggle a finger at your crystal dragonfly in a tiny wave, and it waves its antennae back at you.|
|Nudge||You nudge your crystal dragonfly which ascends briefly before once again alighting on its flower.|
|Pinch||You grasp the flower upon which your crystal dragonfly rests between your thumb and forefinger. The tiny insect spirals into the air with a trail of opalescent light behind it, then on its flower once again.|
|Press or Push||With a little push of your finger, you adjust your crystal dragonfly's position on your shoulder.|
|Prod||You slowly move your finger in front of your crystal dragonfly, which rests its legs on it for a moment, before returning to its former pose.|
|Pull||You give your crystal dragonfly a little tug and its eyes flash for just a second, as if in surprise.|
|Remove||You grasp your crystal dragonfly gently by its abdomen and lift it from your shoulder.|
|Rub||You trace a finger along your crystal dragonfly's back, and it shivers, its wings moving with a soft whirr.|
|Tap||You tap your crystal dragonfly, and it repositions itself upon its carved flower.|
|Turn||Lifting your crystal dragonfly to eye level, you rotate it slowly, sending tiny rainbows across your face as the light is dispersed by the dragonfly's crystalline form.|
|Wear||Your crystal dragonfly's wings flutter as you raise it to your shoulder, where the tiny sculpture settles and stills.|
|Touch||You gently run your fingertip along the edges of the dragonfly's wings. The wings begin to flutter, subtly at first, then faster. A cacophony of whirs and buzzes overwhelms you, and your vision blurs in an undulation of colors. After several seconds you regain your composure and find yourself in the Cysaegir Garden.|
Wind drifts across your face, its feathery touch light and gentle as it draws you away from where you stand. Colors glide across your vision in shades of green dotted with white and you realize that you are gazing down upon a forest filled with large blocks and stones. Your eyes shift to the right where you see several of your brethren beside you floating on the air currents and you are filled with the pure joy of flight. Angling your wings, you dip towards the forest and the world of greenery rushes up to meet you. You suddenly realize that the air has changed, no longer dry and chill, but heavy and moist. The sweet scent of flowers fills your senses, and you realize for the first time that you are thirsty for their nectar. Alighting upon the delicate petals of a purple freesia, you bend to drink from it, but a brush of alarm fills you and you launch yourself back into the air. Elves! Elves have returned to the forest ruins. You watch in wonder, your wings lifting you higher above the forest. The air cools around you and your vision is filled with wispy white clouds before you finally return to yourself. Zephyr wings carry you through the forest at exhilarating speeds and all around, your other dragonflies join you. Wonder and excitement fills you as your wings carry you in a thrilling race through the forest. The elves have returned. Everywhere you look, signs of change greet your vision. The changes are subtle at first, yet as they progress, you realize that you are not watching just one day, but a parade of days one after the other. Ladders spiral around ancient trees where once, only vine-laden boughs hung. Proud limbs are filled with platforms draped in color and sound that are utterly different from the tangling vines and bird nests that once lived there. River stone rocks create a wall here or there, that to change to hold a door, and then a window, until finally, tiny cottages emerge and are tucked away amongst the foliage. Brush-snarled pathways are altered to be covered in stones, and then transition to tidy walkways lined in flowers. In other sections of the ruins, supports are one moment erected, only to change into landings the next. Scaffolding rises to support the beginnings of a bridge this instance, only to next be replaced with finished bridges that span the babbling brooks as naturally as if they had always been present. You watch in wonder as elves flawless marry civilization to the wilds and a heavy sense of anticipation fills you. Warm mist plays across your face and on its breath, your vision shifts in a kaleidoscope of colors. Spreading before you in a riot of color is the deep recess of a forest garden. Water murmurs softly, the only sound in the area, and you feel as if the forest holds it breath waiting for something, some change to happen. Nervous with anticipation, you take to wing. Hundreds of your brethren follow you into the night, and you are soon joined by damselflies. Moonlight slips free of the clouds around you, and your wings begin to sparkle in the silvery light. The jewel-toned colors of those in flight around you fill the air with their shimmer and sparkle. Gasps of wonder draw your eyes to the edge of the pool where three elves stand off to the side. You hover towards them and realize that they are not elves as you had first thought, but humanoids with wings like your own. In wonder, you begin to drift towards them and they respond by fluttering their own wings. Pure joy shines on their faces as they watch you, and you are filled with a deep sense of belonging. The forest around you releases a deep, long sigh. Finally, it seems to say, we are home. Kissing your cheeks, the wind touches you once again and your vision is filled with the absolute of night. Flicking through the dark foliage is the soft glow of lamplight, and curiosity fills you. Flitting lightly through the air, your iridescent wings humming softly, you seek out the light. You stop at the edge of a clearing and sense all around you that other dragonflies and damselflies have done the same. Flickering orange and red tumble together in the yellows of a bonfire arranged before you. Each crackle of a twig, or log, seems loud in the suddenly quiet night, and once again, you are filled with a deep sense of waiting. Rustling in the foliage near you alerts your senses to others, moments before they thread their way from the dark of the forest at your back and into the light of the bonfire. The winged humanoids have returned, and this time, there are hundreds of them ranging in color and age. Their young bow their heads respectfully as they listen to the words of their elders, and you are filled with the weight and importance of these words. The young lift wreaths fashioned of a variety of flowers above their heads and murmur something too soft for you to hear. One after the other, they commit the flower wreaths to the flames. Scorched petals rise on the hot air currents along with glowing embers. Something deep inside you changes and you feel yourself lifting into the air to join the flowers. Thousands of your brethren join you and your ranks are swelled by the elegant bodies of damselflies. Higher and higher you travel, your wings lifting you up and away from the world below as you chase the embers of the fire and the scorched petals.