Dragon Whisperer

Three sisters, one mission, one battle, gone wrong.


7. White or black, take your pick, or not

I shiver in my scarce clothing wondering how it got so cold, I had been sweating but ten minutes ago. I pull my arms closer together as soft, cold, white flurries rain down around me. I rack my brain trying to figure out what it is then I realize its snow something I had read about but never actually seen. I think about everything I have ever read about snow and realize that it has to be cold for snow to happen this confuses me because not long ago it was very hot, although it seems like it is plenty cold now I regret.
Then realize the snow is starting to mound up like white trees and that it will be so easy to get lost. So I pull myself under a pine tree and hear a muffled “cheep” of indigence, I spin around, but see no one I shake the snow off of my shivering frame.
My hand shakes as I reach for an arrow and look for a rock, and some tinder and wood. Tentatively I strike the arrow against the rock not sure how it will react. At first it blunts my arrow. So I put all of my strength into striking it against the rock and a spark lands on my hand.
“Ow that hurt!” I hiss.
I burry my hand in the snow to cool it down. I try again this time careful to pull my hand away. And then to my surprise it catches fire. The leaves burst into flame and I jump back, so as not to get burned again.
I add some tinder wood so that the fire will not go out and look for more fire wood. I get the feeling someone is watching me. So I spin around to see a snow covered bird warming itself by the fire. I smile at the thought that such a small cute thing could unnerve me I walk back and tuck the shivering pitiful thing in to my bra trying warm the poor animal I breathe on the poor creature with my warm breath.
I step out of the pine tree, and I am knocked back at the sheer sight of the snow covered trees stretching for miles I pull some small logs into my shelter brushing snow off of one I lay it on the fire and stumble out carrying as big logs as I can carry and some smaller ones when I glimpse a young girl with dark hair and a fur dress sitting in the snow “
Who are you?” I ask her.
 “Snacowin the goddess of snow.” She replies “I am a huntress, I am winter. May we be friends?”
“Okay! A princess needs her friends.” I reply.
“Princess? May I ask who?” Snacowin questions.
“Yes, Weepingwillow, of Waterfall caves.” I answer. The words never spoken before feel odd and tingling on my tongue. And I let the roll off in quick recession like rain drops off a lily leaf.
“Oh? Fire spoke very highly of you,” she looks around. “Where is she?”
“Dead she fell backwards out of a tree.” I say sadness festering back up in my heart. Horror locks up in her eyes. She rises and snow spinning around her.
“How? What? What’s happening?” I ask amaze sure by now that I fell asleep by the road and this is only a very odd dream.
“It’s like calling the rain, just calling the snow. I got to look for Fire and if indeed she is dead then I must pay my respects and warn her sister Mist.” And she’s gone the only thing left is a tear shaped necklace. I shiver from the cold and feel a heart beat against my chest looking down I remember the sparrow for the first time.
“I shall call you Thalion, strong.” But neither she nor I seem very strong as we shiver in the snow. How I now that Thalion means strong I do not know. I can hardly put on the necklace, my hands are shivering so.
Then there is a light the light glows like the sun, I am instantly reminded of all the sunny day from the outdoors room. It starts to warm up and the snow starts to melt. A handsome man approaches, an arrayal of warmth surrounding him.
“Are you cold? Perhaps it was Snacowin the goddess of evil, and cold,” he sooths me comfortingly as I shiver. His voice is beautiful and the sunniest fields are welled up inside it. Even though the message is painful.
“She was evil?”I mourn the loss of her friendship and knowledge of her alignment stinging strong and painful, it feels like what I would imagine a knife to the gut to feel like.
“She confused you, and tried to murder you with her freezing winds. I call that evil,” and after a moment’s thought he added “yes I’d call that evil, yes I would.”
“You need to get warm I have been leaving you cold like this here take this.” He pulls out of his cloak a small cloak my size, the fabric a deep purple the trim a brilliant gold patterned like flames.
“Oh, it, it is beautiful, you shouldn’t have,” I mummer in gratitude. I fold the cloak around my slim bone structure. Its warmth feels softer than any silk.
“Come with me please! It is a harsh life out here alone. You can meet the rest of The Sun.”
“Okay”, I just have to agree when his deep black eyes pleading me agree “So what is The Sun?”
“The Sun is a small kingdom. I am prince of the kingdom.” He laughs
“You want me to meet an entire kingdom!” I stumble back in shock
“Calm down, I just want you to meet the royal family,” He smiles trying to keep from laughing.
“Oh, okay that fine, I was going to say that, that would years. Okay, now you’re laughing at me,” I playfully pout, by this time he is really laughing
“Yes it would, yes it would, my love, yes, yes it would take years,” then realizing that he just called me his love he laughs, a wonderfully like a waterfall.
“I want it to be that way.” we both seem to think, the same way, the same time, the same mind.
My feet are weary but I plod on next to Alborton for what seems like hours. Then we step on to a different kind of ground. Her there are no dead leaves everything is perfect the ivy on the willow tree is wrapped in just the right pattern. A stream gurgles past us its tiny waterfalls chiming in at the perfect beat to make a symphony. A clearing of the most beautiful trees I have ever seen in my life surrounds us.
“Welcome to The Sun.” Alborton says. His eyes twinkling.


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