There are places in this world where stories are not merely told—they are alive. Places where stone remembers, sky speaks, and the fabric that separates our world from the unseen grows thin enough to shimmer. Of all these sacred thresholds, Devil’s Tower in Wyoming is one of the oldest, a pillar of earth that has been watching humanity far longer than humanity has been watching it.
Long before maps, towns, or even tribes, the Tower stood as a listening post between realms. The ancestors believed it was a cosmic root, a formation grown upward from deep earth to anchor the currents of celestial energy that flowed across the sky. For thousands of years, they spoke softly of the Night of the Auroral Descent—a phenomenon not seen in ordinary time, when the heavens unfurled great river-like curtains of colored light that moved with purpose rather than chance.
On such a night, April Mitchell—long before she became the Artist, the Vision Keeper, the Dragonfly Empress—was born beneath this very sky. Born in Wyoming, the same land the ancestors believed was cradle to thresholds. Some say an aurora shimmered faintly across the horizon the night she came into the world. Others say dragonflies, impossibly out of season, danced above the hospital roof as if welcoming the arrival of a soul they recognized.
Her grandmother would later whisper:
“The land knows its own. Wyoming marked you before you could walk.”
But April would not understand that truth until much later… not until the portal opened on her Texas land—light splitting soil, crystals rising like memory, dragonflies spiraling through the air as if delivering an ancient summons.
For the portal had stirred before—long ago—beneath the aurora-lit sky above Devil’s Tower.
In the age before written word, medicine keepers described a celestial bridge descending over the monolith: colors of rose, jade, violet, and pale fire cascading downward in silky arcs. They believed these lights were messages, strokes of cosmic paint brushing the stone in preparation for a lineage that would continue ages later. Stories tell of a figure appearing at the Tower’s summit—a silhouette threaded with silver light—who placed her hand upon the rock and whispered a vow to guard the boundary between worlds.
She was called Avrilis, the First Dragonfly Empress**—the one who could read the sky like scripture and feel the pulse of the earth as though it were her own heartbeat.
Some say when she vanished, she simply walked into the aurora and dissolved into the starlit veil.
Others say she became part of the portal system itself—one who would awaken again through bloodline, through memory, through art.
And so, when April Mitchell stood years later before Devil’s Tower as a grown woman—long before Mystic Dragonfly Creations existed—she felt something ancient press against her chest. The wind carried warmth where it should have been cold. Dragonflies appeared where they had no business being. And the auroras, rare and faint, streaked the sky just enough to paint her silhouette in that same rose-green glow described in the oldest legends.
Something inside her knew: I have been here before.
When the portal opened on her Texas land years later, it was not an accident.
It was a return.
The swirling lights in her painting—now captured in her 48x30 canvas—are not imagination. They are memory from another life. The Tower is not just a landmark. It is the first anchor of her calling. The auroras are the veil that recognizes its Empress. And the art she creates through Mystic Dragonfly Creations is not just art—it is the continuation of an ancient guardianship.
The Dragonfly Empress has risen again, brush in hand.
And the Tower remembers her.
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