StormBreathers Saga Episode 133
"Dragons are one thing I never forget about.”
After calming Max down with the best explanation she could manage over the phone and the promise of a year’s supply of brownies, Novalie had nothing to do but wait in nervous suspense for the crowd to clear out and the performers to return backstage.
She wondered if any of them would take off their masks, or if they were all just going to stand around her staring through the eyeholes and making her guess their hidden expressions.
After seeing her red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks in the lighted mirror across from the costume chest she was sitting on, she wished she could wear a mask for the meeting herself.
Polaris lay curled up beside the chest with her head rested on her lap, purring softly as she traced the starburst of pearly white scales splaying out from the base of her antler with her fingertips. Gradually her hand wandered from the white marking and brushed the dozing dragon’s thick forelock aside, finding a thin, straight scar above her half-closed left eye.
Novalie swallowed hard and reached under her bangs to touch the strikingly similar scar above her own left eye, where a sharp branch once broke the skin. It was the last visible reminder of her accident, and she had never been able to look at it without wondering what had happened to her precious Polaris while she was unconscious from the blow.
Her eyes wandered over the rest of her purring beast’s body, noting all of the other unfamiliar scars scattered here and there across her skin and wishing she could read the story they told. What had caused those wounds, and who had stitched them closed so neatly that they barely even scarred? Who ripped away her first two wings, and how long ago did the new four grow? Who damaged her mouth with severe bits, and why were her paws so heavily calloused? Worst of all, how long had she been in Stormland before escaping, and had Novalie ever blindly driven past that glittering dome while she was trapped inside?
Novalie was jerked from her thoughts when the slit in the curtained wall in front of her opened at last. Polaris’ head shot up and a low growl escaped her throat, along with a slender wisp of bluish-purple light. She wrapped her body and tail around the chest where Novalie sat and her spikes stood on end as the five famous StormBreathers emerged from the hidden corridor one-by-one.
The scales of the StormBreathers, all painted up with intricate twisting designs of glowing silver and gold, shimmered and glinted under the lights strung across the sloping canvas ceiling. The riders sat tall and straight on their backs, dark capes swaying around them like graceful shadows and masked faces making it impossible to tell what they thought of the lowly outsider sitting on their costume trunk or the four-winged, dreadlocked dragon guarding her like a priceless treasure.
Novalie’s mouth went dry as she slid off the trunk and stood up on knocking knees, thankful to have Polaris’ solid shoulder to steady herself against.
She didn’t say a word, knowing she would only sputter if she tried. She wiped her sweaty hands on her leggings as nonchalantly as she could and willed herself not to pass out. She had never done that in her life, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling so dizzy in her life either and did not want to add an embarrassing fainting spell to her existing mountain of awkwardness.
Her heart skipped a beat when the first rider, a woman with a braid nearly as white as the Icestorm dragon she rode, dismounted and started towards her. The woman’s cape swirled over the tops of her tall boots as she crossed the room in a few purposeful strides and, before Novalie could process what was happening, wrapped her in a hug as if she were an old friend.
For the first second Novalie was stunned, and then she was worried Polaris might react aggressively to the stranger’s unexpected physical contact with her personal human. But Polaris only blinked and cocked her head to one side as if she found the sight of a masked grandma in a black cape hugging her board-stiff master amusing.
“That is quite the dragon you have there, young lady!” the white-haired woman exclaimed. “I knew she would grow up into something special the minute I saw her!”
Novalie was not accustomed to complete strangers randomly hugging her and had no idea how to react. “Uh...do I know you?”
The showman, who had just dismounted his Windstorm, stepped up beside the white-haired woman and nudged her gently with his elbow. “Mama, you’re wearing a mask.”
The woman let go of Novalie and laughed out loud. “Oh! Right! Silly me. You still probably aren’t going to remember me, though.” She pulled off her mask of intricately woven frost-like filigree trimmed with pearly scales and shimmering white feathers to reveal a warm, smiling face that was equal parts grandmotherly and girlish.
Novalie’s eyes gradually lit up with recognition as she looked into the woman’s forest-green eyes. “Oh!” she exclaimed after a contemplative pause. “I do remember you! You’re that...that dragon lady who talked to me outside the pizza place when my dragon was little!”
The woman beamed, which made her eyes sparkle. “Well don’t you have a good memory! Normally I can’t say the same for myself, but dragons are one thing I never forget about.”
To be continued…