After the Fire

Flickering motes of light swirl and dance in a spiral, carried upwards by a warm draft of air. They float up, the burning cinders ascending towards the heavens, leaving the dark and scorched earth below.

Amidst twisting shadows cast by piles of charred wood and stone, two eyes gaze unblinking at the fading embers. To the child sitting amidst the ruins these are celestial things, a momentary distraction and a glimmer of hope.

Enraptured, her eyes follow the ashes as they become smaller, dwindling until they wink out of existence against the stars above. Her tiny hands reach out for this firmament, trying to grab hold of the distant lights. When she brings them back down to her face, she uncurls her small fingers and sees that they are the same as before–empty and smudged with grime. For the second time that night, she finds hope slipping away. She does not fully understand what happened–she remembers a cacophony of shouts, a blinding flash of fire, and a great crash as the world crumbled and splintered around her. And at the end of it all, as the smoke settled, she found herself alone in all the world. She brings her soot-stained hands to her eyes and begins to cry.

Far above, a pair of luminous eyes survey the landscape. Powerful, leathery wings beat against the night sky, propelling a body covered in metallic scales streaked with ash. The creature’s hide is a chaotic lattice of open wounds wet with blood, its breathing labored as it struggles to maintain its position.

The forest is dark save for the glow of a few renegade fires. The dragon’s eyes come to rest upon a wide black circle, darker even than the trees that surround it. Once, not so long ago, it would have been filled with laughter and the light of numerous fires, twinkling and diffused through window panes. Now, it is nothing but a desolate expanse of dead and churned earth.

The mighty creature begins a slow and spiraling descent. Its wings fan out, catching an updraft as it angles its body and prepares to land. A moment later, the dragon alights with a heavy thud as its four taloned legs catch it before it careens into the earth. Its massive body kicks up a whooshing gust of air that sends ash and embers in every direction.

The child, hidden behind a charred timber, turns at the sound. She peers out from between the wreckage, seeing an immense black form standing and surveying the clearing. It lifts its mighty head, inhaling deeply as it scents the air. The beast stands erect, turning its head to stare in the direction of the girl.

The girl gasps as she spies a pair of amber eyes set within the great horned head. Smoke emanates from narrow nostrils, and the beast’s mouth and throat radiate a red-hot heat. It lets out a guttural breath as it lowers its head and takes a lumbering step towards her.

Her eyes widen and her heart races as the creature stalks forward. It is the largest thing she’s ever seen—several times bigger than even her ruined home. She tries to cry, tries to make a sound, but her small voice catches in her throat as her eyes well with fresh tears.

The dragon stands in front of her, flicking its tail impetuously. It rears its head back, its serpentine neck carrying the horned head high above the girl. The glowing maw brightens as the beast inhales, and the girl lets out a quiet gasp as she stares up at it.

Its curving horns, elegant and wickedly sharp, frame the full moon above in an ethereal halo. The dying embers reflect off its scales, and its eyes lock with hers. Through her fear, through her paralysis, a memory rises to the surface.

Her mother’s soft voice, sing-song and gentle, whispers tales of the celestial beings that live far above them. Stories of magnificent creatures of all shapes and sizes, wearing the stars themselves as garments and watching over the mortals below. The girl had fallen asleep to her tales, comforted in the knowledge that she’d never be truly alone.

Clinging to this last, thin ray of hope, the girl musters her strength as she crawls forward on scraped knees.

The dragon narrows its eyes and exhales, unsure of what to make of this strange creature. This one seems to pose no threat, and yet it approaches so brazenly. What could it want? The dragon moves back a half-step, lowering its head and extending its wings in a show of aggression.

The girl pauses as fear lights up her chest once more. The two stand opposite each other, silent in their uncertainty. The girl is the first to move. Spurred onward by her desperation, she totters towards the dragon on unsteady feet. It stares unmoving, its eyes tracking her every movement.

As she draws near, the dragon flares its nostrils, exhaling a brilliant plume of flame and flapping its wings menacingly. The girl is undeterred, and as she comes within arm’s reach of its foreleg she reaches out with one hand but stops short of touching its battle-worn scales. She glances up with uncertain eyes.

The dragon stares down at her, utterly perplexed. This creature–this child, for that is what it must be–is the only living thing here other than itself. And yet, it has chosen to step forward where others have fled. Whether it is courage, hope, or utter foolishness, the dragon does not know.

For the first time, it stoops to look at the child and see her as she is. Disheveled, dirty, and with a face streaked with tears, she is a pitiful thing. Yet the beast itself is not much better, injured as it is. The dragon’s hackles lower ever so slightly, encouraging the girl to step forward. As she makes the last hesitant step towards it and places a hand upon its warm scales, the beast inclines its head and looks directly into her eyes.

Through the fear, through the glistening tears, it spots a burning ember within her. Not the raging inferno of a dragon’s breath, but the brilliant glow of a young soul determined to live.

Interesting, it thinks to itself. Very interesting, indeed.