The Land
The Desert is an eastern princedom with only one seaport: Radzyn Keep. It is bordered by Princemarch, Cunaxa, Meadowlord, and Syr. The Desert is the hottest, driest princedom and one of the largest. The Long Sand, through which there is no water and no shelter from the sweltering sun, stretches the length of princedom. To the West of the Long Sand there are some mountains and some vegetation, and Skybowl is nestled above a lake. Near Stronghold is Rivenrock, a valley where dragons breed and where the dragon eggs can be gathered for their gold. To the East is Radzyn and the sea, the Desert's sole port and main trade center.
To the inhabitants of the Desert, their Princedom is beautiful. The sun gleams over the vast sands and sends a myriad of colors into the dawn and evening skies as a rainbow shimmers across the dunes. Night falls like a balm on the scorched land, and the clear sky allows the stars to twinkle brightly.
Every hundred years the Desert blooms. This is a miracle to the Desert-born, who finally see their beloved land covered in flowers and tall, green stalks. Winter rains soak into the sands and churn up soil that had been long buried. Seeds that had been brought on winds and dragon wings sprout, scrubs and cacti bloom vividly colored flowers. With the foliage came butterflies, other insects, and a plethora of singing birds.
Read more about this topic: The Desert (Dragon Prince)
Famous quotes containing the words the land and/or land:
“Take two kids in competition for their parents’ love and attention. Add to that the envy that one child feels for the accomplishments of the other; the resentment that each child feels for the privileges of the other; the personal frustrations that they don’t dare let out on anyone else but a brother or sister, and it’s not hard to understand why in families across the land, the sibling relationship contains enough emotional dynamite to set off rounds of daily explosions.”
—Adele Faber (20th century)
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—Woody Guthrie (1912–1967)
“From land to land; and in my breast
Spring wakens too; and my regret
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—Alfred Tennyson (1809–1892)