Dragon Breath

The cold winter night was harsh.

She knew most wouldn’t bother venturing out at a time like this. Not when a blizzard was slowly forming and would soon cover the already frozen streets in a fresh blanket of snow overnight.

The wind was whipping at her coat, which hung in such a way that it could really be considered a cloak. Towering buildings of the small city meant that the streets became nothing more than wind tunnels during blizzards, icy particles sweeping through the narrow passages at an incredible rate.

Blizzards were her favorite.

What she knew was a harsh wind to others felt like a gentle breeze against the portion of her face that was exposed. Her hood was pulled over her head, the scarf covering her face only to ensure no one would recognize her if they did happen to be out this late and in this weather.

Warmth radiated outwards from her, but snowflakes still clung to her sleeves for just a moment before melting as she walked slowly, reveling in the empty streets. She found comfort in the solitary feeling, in being alone in the dark streets as the lights flickered off in the extreme conditions.

It wouldn’t be long now.

The thought caused her to lift her head so she faced the sky.

Her bright eyes held the dangerous fire that burned within her as she stared up at the moon, basking in the fleeting feeling of the cold snow against her face before it melted. The sigh she released sent a puff of smoke into the air, swirling above her and illuminated by the moonlight.

The moon was brighter than usual.

A new moon was rarely bright enough to break through the thick clouds of a harsh winter night like this.

The sound of snow crunching stole her from her thoughts. Whipping around, her hood fell from her head, hands instinctively moving to a defensive stance. The flames that burst from her palms melted the falling snow around her to clouds of steam, shrouding her in an almost ethereal glow as the moonlight danced through the particles.

A small voice caused her to extinguish the fire as a young boy stepped onto the street.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was quiet, frightened. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” The boy’s dark hair was filled with unmelting snow, his blue eyes staring up at her in awe. “Aren’t you cold out here?”

The smile that graced her lips at his question was small, almost sad, as she knelt to stare into his eyes. Pulling her scarf down so he could see her face as not to scare him further than she knew she already had, she watched his eyes widen as they stared into her burning ones.

He wore no coat or scarf. His lips, parted slightly in shock, a dark blue from the harsh conditions. The wind howled as it tore past them, and she allowed herself to relax slightly. Letting her grip on the raging flames, a bubble of warmth encapsulated them.

“The cold and I,” she began to reply quietly, “we don’t know each other. What about you, yavrum? Aren’t you cold out here all alone? Where is your coat to keep you warm?”

Her presence warmed him as he approached her slowly. The color in his face began to return and his cheeks gained a rosy tint as he moved closer to her, his eyes widening further when he realized that the hearth-like heat was coming from her.

“I am,” he replied finally, his mouth pulling into a toothy grin that displayed the few he was missing. “But it’s really nice right here. And the cold and me are friends. I can control it sometimes.”

Her smile grew slightly at his words. Young naivete at its finest. To believe that because he could control it, it meant it was his friend.

She had learned the hard way that was rarely the case.

“What does your mother think when you control it?” she asked quietly. “What does she say?”

“She gets scared,” the boy replied sadly. “So does my dad. Why are you out here all alone. Aren’t you lonely?”

The sad smile was back now. She wouldn’t be alone for much longer. Absently, her gaze moved to the clock that she knew was frozen in place.

How much longer did she have?

At the appearance of that thought, she felt herself begin to long for the extended periods of isolation she was once subjected to.

“Not at all, little one,” she lied easily. He shivered suddenly, prompting her to remove her scarf to wrap around him, shielding him from the wind. The old red fabric was enough to wrap around his small frame like a blanket, covering his face like it had hers. Deep within her chest, her heart jumped as the image brought forth memories of her own frame wrapped in the worn, faded covering. “You should get inside where it’s warm. Night is the time to sleep.”

He pulled the scarf down to speak, his eyebrows furrowed.

“But what about you?”

“It’s where I’m headed,” she lied again, winking at him as she stood. “Sleep well, yavrum. And stay warm.”

Pulling her hood back up over her head as she turned away, she knew that it was time to go.

Her breath sent clouds of steam into the air as she walked away from the boy, leaving him no choice but to return to his home.