By: Julia Fini
Vidvan Proctor had seen many things during his forty two years on this earth. He’d seen plague sweep the land, kingdoms clash, crops die off and wells run dry. Yet he had never seen a dragon before. Let alone a dragon drinking from a pond as if he had every right to be there.
His heart stilled when he laid eyes on the beast. He was entirely white with sharp spikes protruding out of his back and two large horns atop his head. His wings were folded beside him, tucked neatly into place, but even from their position Vidvan could tell they were massive. They would have to be if they could make this dragon fly.
Vidvan ducked behind a tree that stood on the edge of the pond, his hand reaching for the tiny dagger at his waist, his mind already alluding to the fact that his small blade would do nothing to the massive dragon. He could barely hear the creature behind him, which frightened him even more.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come into the woods today,” he muttered, pressing harder into the tree behind him.
Suddenly the slight noises he had heard before stopped, his heart along with them. Surely he had been spotted and was about to face an untimely death to this dragon.
“Vidvan Proctor,” a deep voice said, causing him to jump. “Come out from where you hide,” the voice continued.
Everything in Vidvan told him to stay put, to hide behind this tree until the dragon left, but something made him move, one leg after another revealing him as he once again came face to face with the dragon. He tucked the dagger back into his sheathe, worried that the dragon would feel threatened and attack. The dragon just stared straight at him, eyes so wide they seemed like portals to another world. And maybe they were.
“I sense your fear. Do not be frightened, I am not going to harm you,” the voice, no, the dragon, said. It was clear now to Vidvan that the dragon was the voice he had heard before.
“You- you can- you can talk?” he stuttered, his body shaking in fear.
“Yes Vidvan Proctor, all dragons can talk,” the dragon answered.
“All?” Vidvan squeaked out.
“There are many dragons on this world, and even more on the next,” the dragon replied, leaning back from the pond.
“There are other worlds?”
“Plenty.”
Vidvan felt as if he might faint.
“But that is not for you to worry about Vidvan Proctor,” the dragon said simply, as if he had not just mentioned other worlds and in turn destroyed Vidvan’s own.
“It’s shocking,” is all the poor man could get out.
“I assume it would be Vidvan Proctor.”
“Why do you keep saying my full name?” Vidvan asked, his mind spinning. “Wait, how do you even know my full name?” he demanded, panic pulsing through him.
“Us dragons know a lot, more than any human mind will ever be able to hold. The names of those we meet is just the beginning,” the dragon explained.
“This is insane,” Vidvan muttered, falling to the ground as his wobbly legs gave out.
“This is my carelessness coming back to bite me. You see, I just wanted some water, and now here I am, communicating with a human. That is the one rule us dragons abide by, and I have broken it,” the dragon stated, looking cross with himself.
“Why can’t you talk to humans?” Vidvan asked, now sitting on the dirt alongside the pond.
“Humans are dangerous. They destroy whatever they touch. If they knew about us dragons, it would be the end of everything we have built,” the dragon said, bowing his head.
“What have you built?”
“Everything you know was created by us, every disease and storm, every rainfall and famine, all designed by the hands of dragons.”
“Or the claws,” Vidvan said, motioning at the dragon’s sharp toes.
“I suppose you’re right,” the dragon mused, something resembling a smile appearing on his face.
“Do you breathe fire?” Vidvan asked before he could stop himself.
“What?”
“All the legends, they talk of fire-breathing dragons. Are they true?”
“No, dragons cannot breathe fire. We do more sensible things, like make the trees shed or allow the crops to grow,” the dragon explained.
“What do you do?”
“I encourage the snow to fall,” the dragon answered.
“Then why are you here? It’s warm out right now. Does that mean you’re bad at your job?” Vidvan asked.
The dragon glared at him, and he paled, every fear he felt before coming back tenfold. “I didn’t mean- I’m sure you’re just-”
Before he could finish his thoughts a sound rang over the woods, a shrill cry. Vidvan looked to see the dragon doubled over, appearing to be sick.
“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning closer as if he, a human, could save this dragon.
“That is hilarious,” the dragon laughed, the noise erupting from his mouth. Vidvan now realized that the horrible sound he was hearing was the dragon’s laughter, his poor attempt at chuckling. It made him laugh too, although his sounded more, well, human. The dragon slowly calmed down, taking slow breaths through his large nostrils. “No, Vidvan Proctor, I am not bad at my job. Or at least I like to think I am not. It is just not time for snow yet. We must have sun and rain first. But for now, I must leave, before the damage I have done grows,” the dragon admitted, his wings pulling away from his body slightly.
“Leave? But you just got here? We just started talking,” Vidvan said. His new desire to make the dragon stay was an ironic twist to his earlier feelings.
“It is my duty to avoid humans as best as possible, and while I have failed now, there is still time to keep my mistake from growing. So Vidvan Proctor I must go. It was nice to meet you,” the dragon said, stepping closer to the water.
“Wait!” Vidvan cried.
The dragon paused, glancing at the man.
“You did not tell me your name,” Vidvan said, flushing at this strange request. The dragon’s face was overtaken by the weird smile again, before he said, quite simply,
“Winter.”
And with that, he was gone, taking to the air, the only sign that he had ever been there at all the ripples in the water he left behind.
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