Chapter Text
The snow blows across the tundra, pummeling relentlessly at the tall tower of rock and earth that seemed to graze the heavens, which were grey and foreboding. Clouds locked together over the sky and poured snow down on the mountains, the whipping winds howling through the valleys and peaks and snow-covered ground. It’s not quite nighttime, but the setting sun is masked by the thick blanket of clouds, and a teeth-chattering chill is beginning to settle in. It is unwise to set foot in the beginning of such a storm, and yet, a young boy trudges through the snow, searching for what cannot be in the mountains of Sssalssalhan, but rather, in the temple seated just below the tall peaks, cradled between talons of ice that point heavenward.
His sniffling goes unheard, for he is lost, stuck on the mountain, nobody around to hear his cries. The thick bear fur on his hood is blown from the winter gales, round cheeks flushed scarlet from the weather. He had been brave thus far, but as the sky darkens and the temperature plummets, he begins to sob, warm tears turning cold before they can trail down his chubby face. What started out as an innocent chase has now become a treacherous journey, a fear of the unknown.
He has grown up in this sort of climate, but he has never been lost in a place like this. It’s unfamiliar to him. The words of his mother resonate in his mind, that if he were to ever get lost in the snow, he had to seek shelter and stay put until it was safe to come out. The snow whips around him, muddling his vision until all he can see is white and grey, blindly stumbling forward and crying. He cries for his eomma and appa , because he’s frightened, and as his cries grow in volume and intensity, his presence becomes known.
In front of him sits a cave, yet he cannot see it due to the snow until he trips right into it.
The boy gasps, tumbling into the cave entrance, the snow now at his back. He’s sniveling, rests on his knees and shuffles forward, blinking away the icy tears on his cheeks.
He believes he’s alone, but as he stands on his feet, a gleam of silver crosses his vision and his eyes naturally turn upward. Fear should strike his heart or he should cry again, or perhaps turn and run away, but his eyes widen in curiosity, pink lips parted ever so slightly as he stares into the face of a dragon.
He has only ever seen dragons in the books his eomma and caretakers read to him. They existed in this world alongside humans, but did not live in his part of the North; they lived in the dragon kingdom of Ssalssalhan, across Dragon Tooth Strait just west of where the boy lives, but he has not yet seen a dragon in real life since his arrival here only hours ago.
The dragon’s nostrils flare, captivating emerald eyes staring at the small human, as if he were regarding him with question. Even in the dim cave, his white scales gleam, catching the eye of the boy, who reaches out with one gloved hand in awe.
Taken aback, the dragon rumbles, craning its neck.
How did a human get up here?
The boy reaches up again in earnest, and reluctantly, the dragon ducks its head down slowly, the air breathed out from his nose blowing back the boy’s hair from his face. Staying still, the dragon eyes the boy, taking note of his round, delicate features, as a tiny hand is placed upon his snout.
What are you doing?
He’s clearly amazed, the young boy, running his small hand along the dragon’s cheek, feeling the rigid bumps of scales through his thick gloves. His giggle is innocent and the dragon draws back, rearing its head. Unsure of what to do with the human, but aware of who he might be, he beckons the human to follow him deeper into the cave. The little human understands the message as the dragon sits on his haunches and turns, crooking the edge of his tail in a beckoning motion, trudging deeper into the cave where it is warmer.
The dragon stops once they’ve ventured further into the cave where the snow cannot reach them. He rumbles again, and the boy instinctively sits on the cool cavern floor, his eyes having never left the beast.
You shouldn’t be here.
Dragging firewood over with his sharp claws as large as the boy himself, the dragon loosely sets the wood in a circle, crouching to the ground. His nostrils flare and light dances along the walls as a puff of fire is emitted, tongues of flame swirling up from the pile of wood, embers crackling, ash fluttering up. The human is in awe, mouth agape, but he does not feel fear; he feels wonder.
You’re so strange. You should be scared of me.
Even when the dragon shows his teeth by curling one side of his mouth, the boy doesn’t flinch. Instead, he smiles, round lips turning in the corners, his hands coming together in a clap, cheering the dragon on with another innocent giggle that ultimately confuses the beast.
Grumbling, the dragon rests against the floor, keeping his head upright to watch the human, how his big eyes stare at him, stare through him. No human has ever kept the eye of a dragon like this before, but this boy. . . he’s special. Something kept him alive out in the snow.
The dragon places his head on the cavern floor and curls his tail around his body, wings folded against his back.
I will return you tomorrow morning when you wake. Understood?
Of course the human can’t understand. He doesn’t speak dragon-tongue. But the message is conveyed, and the boy leans over, lying against the stone floor with his eyes trained on the dragon. The beast sighs before his eyes shut.
Strange creature.
Come morning, the snow has stopped falling but coats the ground in a thick layer. Sunlight streams into the cave and when the dragon wakes, he finds that the human has somehow climbed on his back, perched on his neck, tiny hands grasping at one of the spines jutting from the dragon’s body. Lifting his head, the dragon gazes at the bright-eyed human, his throat vibrating with his rumble, spines on his back quivering. The boy continues to hold on even as the dragon rises to his feet and steps on the pile of ash that once was their fire.
With the human securely on his neck, the dragon ambles toward the mouth of the cave, lowering his head and tucking in his wings as they emerge. His feet sink into the snow and he stretches his wings, which catch the rays of the morning sun and glimmer like the remnants of a rainbow.
Hold on tight, little one.
He takes a step forward, his wings bobbing up and down once. It’s the human’s last warning to hold on. The dragon flaps his wings again, stirring up any loose snow under his weight, before they are above the ground, the snow swirling around the little boy. The sparkling ice crystals dance around the human until they fall away, drifting back into the sky.
The dragon is careful as he flies due to the human on his back. He’s so small, so light. . . he could float away just like a swan’s feather in the wind.
His wings beat steadily as they fly through the mountains, soaring over the snow-laden ground. He does not have to be looking at the boy to know his joy, his excitement, for his giggles and laughs are loud enough to ring in his ears.
They slow down upon approaching the temple of Ssalssalhan, its golden roof lustrous in the sunlight. Down below, in the courtyards of his temple, he spots two figures. As he begins to land, he can hear one of them shouting the boy's name frantically, and realizes that he has found the boy’s parents.
The dragon lands on the icy courtyard in a flurry of snowflakes and he cranes his neck towards the ground, the little boy sliding off his neck and into the arms of his father, who holds him close before handing him to his worry-stricken mother. He recognizes the mother and father and shakes his body free of any snow as he stands tall once more.
As they reunite, the dragon turns his head, nosing at the side of his neck. He knocks his sharp teeth against one of his loose scales and watches it come free, falling right into the palm of his clawed hand. The dragon reaches out with his scale and stares at the human family, setting the scale on the ground in front of the boy’s feet.
The boy does not understand the gift and he stares at the scale. It is his parents who urge him forward, nudge his back, and the dragon steps away so the boy can claim his gift. He bends over and clutches the scale in his hands, turning the scale over and marveling at it. The scale is well the size of his fist, but the human holds it tight, and he waddles towards the dragon with a beaming smile.
Do you not want my gift, little one?
Leaning down, the dragon becomes almost eye-level with the boy. His emerald eyes stare into the human’s bright blue eyes, but he does not flinch when a hand is placed against his snout. There is the urge to lower his head, and the dragon follows that urge, letting the human run his hand over his snout before he steps on the tip of his toes.
When the boy kisses above his nose, a jolting spark courses through the beast, but he does not pull away. It’s only brief contact, but the gesture will stick with the dragon forever.
The human giggles again and steps back, smiling at the beast with more warmth than any fire a dragon could forge. It’s as if they were friends departing for different journeys, parting ways with a kiss, a promise that they would meet again.
And perhaps our paths will cross again, little prince, the dragon thinks to himself, the phantom touch of the kiss still lingering, the promise now embedded within his body and his heart.