StormBreathers Saga Episode 127
Lights of every kind, but never the one she was looking for.
The moon was full on Christmas Eve, hanging low and bright in the cold, clear sky. It cast a silvery light over the jagged boulder resting at the edge of a snow encrusted cliff overlooking the forest.
At least, it looked like a boulder to the chickadee that landed on it anyway. Upon landing, the little bird was startled to find the giant rock beneath his tiny feet was breathing.
Like a statue of ice and stone rising out of the ground and coming to life, Polaris lifted her head from where it had been resting on her front paws and turned to look at the chubby bird tickling her back. The chickadee hopped backwards with a startled cheep at the sight of her enormous eyes shining out from her camouflaged face.
She responded with a friendly nicker and a soft glow lit up her spikes, giving off a gentle heat that instantly warmed the small bird’s frosty feathers. Relieved that his perch didn’t want to eat him and delighted by the warmth, he fluffed himself up and started preening happily.
Polaris nickered again as if chuckling at his antics, then turned back to her view of Paikka’s lights twinkling in the distance. It was a beautiful sight, but her eyes were sad as they took it in.
Every evening she flew to the same cliff as the sun dipped behind the mountains and watched those faraway lights as they appeared against the darkening landscape. Night after night, week after week, month after month she watched them turning on before she went to sleep, then woke before the last of them had turned off again.
Lights of every different color, size and brightness came and went, but never the one she was looking for.
The glow in the StormBreather’s spikes faded when she rested her head back on her wooly paws with a quiet moan. Her eyelids grew heavy as she watched the white clouds of her warm breath float lazily on the still, frozen air. Just when she was about to let them close, a far off flash grabbed her attention.
It was different from the steady glow of house windows and street lamps. Different from the flowing stream of headlights meandering through the streets. Different from the blinking colored lights of neon signs and traffic signals. Different from the glittery glow of Christmas lights. It was a broad, sweeping beam of whitish-gold light that stretched toward the stars, and as she watched it was joined by a dozen more just like it. Each one of them swept back and forth across the sky, calling to her as if by name.
The chickadee chirped sharply in annoyance and fluttered into a nearby bush when Polaris jumped to her feet. A hopeful light sparked in her deep purple eyes as she tossed her tangled white mane, unfurled her four tremendous wings and pawed at the frozen ground with her glinting claws. She flicked her ears and flared her nostrils, tasting the cold air before leaping from the cliff’s jagged edge.
Glittering wisps of snow trailed from her paws as she tucked them under her body and glided soundlessly over the sleeping forest. The top of her body and wings reflected the colors and patterns of the dark, snow spattered trees below her while her underside reflected the sky above, making her appear as nothing but a fleeting shadow in the moonlight.
A slight breeze stirred the winter air as she neared the northern edge of Paikka. The moonbeams shimmered across the fresh blanket of powdery snow that cloaked the entire valley.
Rising out of the sea of glittering white at the edge of the city, encircled by those enormous flashlights, stood the towering silhouette of a circus tent draped in a hundred strings of glistening Christmas lights.
The dancing lights beckoned Polaris like an alluring aroma, but there were other smells and sounds floating on the wind that made her stop cold - Popcorn, cotton candy, cheering adults, squealing children, roaring dragons... To the humans milling about the circus grounds it was all fun and excitement, but to her it all echoed with memories of soars and scars, chains and cage bars, the cold bite of metal and the warm taste of blood.
She hovered uneasily at a distance for several minutes, sniffing the chaotic combination of hundreds of humans. The stronger her sense of the crowd became the harder her heart pounded.
The ever-present warmth that constantly stirred in her chest started burning like a small but dangerous tornado of flames inside her, its heat spreading into her veins and a pulsating light igniting in her eyes. Feeling her wings trembling with every flap, she gave the great flashlights one last longing look before turning back toward the safety of the woods.
But then she caught a faint whiff of one more familiar scent. One that triggered memories older and entirely different from Stormland. It was hard to pinpoint that single scent blended in with the overpowering mixture of so many others, but it was just strong enough to pull her back toward the glittering tent.
To be continued…