In Part 2 (Ch. 6-17), Emilie found out what it means to be a true dragon, at least physically and magically. Keeping this a secret from her friends and society is something of a challenge, but she’s doing her best.
We walked in silence for a bit after that, wandering the neighborhood streets. It feels a little relieving to know that there’s at least one person who can support me, but one Wizard with no spells is not going to help much fighting or hiding from Dragons. But having a friend helps a lot.
“You made the ice yesterday, right?”
I nod. “I saw the wolves coming and wanted you to be safe.”
“And the fire?”
I look away, embarrassed. “A side effect of the ice. My mistake. I did put it out, though.”
Shannon noticeably changes direction while still going forward. “How does ice make fire?”
“Aspect magic doesn’t care about the method behind making ice,” I explain with a shrug. “Star magic does. I made some air colder by making other air hotter. So some air froze while other air caught the grass on fire. And then I saw the fire and used another spell to put out the fire.”
“How many spells do you have?”
I don’t actually know. I close my eyes and ask the Mymoir. “Two hundred and three,” I read aloud before opening my eyes. That’s quite a lot, but all of the other elements have a lot more. Light—white dragons—has over a thousand spells.
“You learned that many in two weeks?” Shannon asks, astonished.
How to explain…? I shake my head. “No. With Star magic, spells are shared with all of the Dragons. Blue dragons in general have two hundred and three spells. I’ve only used four.”
“Aaahhh,” Shannon replies. “And I bet Dragons make their own, like Wizards can? Like ‘Steven’s Fire Extinguisher’?”
She heard that? Whoops. “Um, yes. Steven wrote that spell.”
“Who’s Steven?”
I read that name before… Oh, right, with the purple dragon. The Mymoir says he lives in Mexico… Oh. I bet the fire extinguisher is so he doesn’t burn his own house. “He’s the blue dragon in northern Mexico,” I tell Shannon. “I’ve seen records on him; he burns places to the ground.”
“So, not a friendly Dragon.”
“Those are pretty rare,” I reply. “They’d probably teach us about them in school otherwise, right?”
“True.” Shannon slows and points ahead and to our right. “So, from what you’ve said, could you tell me about that?”
She’s pointing at a car. But the front half is smashed as though from above. Wait—not smashed. The tires have a pool of black around them. And I don’t see any glass shards in the sunlight. “What happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. After the wolves got through the gate a week and a half ago, some kid at school said his neighbor’s car melted.”
Melted? I check the address. And then I look around and realize we’re on my street and I have no idea—oh. There’s a tree between my bedroom window and that car. “Whoops.”
Shannon narrows her eyes at me. “‘Whoops’?”
“Remember how the grass caught fire yesterday? Same spell.”
“Maybe you should stop using that spell.”
“For a while, at least,” I agree. “I’m sure there’s a safer way to use it, but I can probably use something else if I want to make walls. And, uh…” Since I can’t reliably shield her, then… “In that case, would you mind riding on my back next time? To keep you safer?”
Shannon thinks it over. “How much have you flown?”
“Twice.”
“Then I’m bringing a flight wand.”
I didn’t tell Shannon everything I can do—senses, abilities without spells, or the Mymoir—but I’ll have three hours on Saturday for that. I walked with Shannon back to her house, then alone back to mine. My family was still at church, so I browsed the Mymoir for a less dangerous shield. They exist, but don’t sound all that great. I guess everything has a trade-off.
As for the chore, Daddy said I get to learn to shovel snow this year. Al’s been doing that for a while so it’s probably more of a “you’re getting older and I was going to have you try it soon anyway” chore, but at the same time Al says snow is heavy and I am not looking forward to it. We don’t get a lot of snow every year, but when we do it’s often a couple of feet. I hope that doesn’t happen this year—getting out to the park might be hard.
In the time since Sunday, I’ve done some more work on my research paper and some more thinking about my position here. Specifically, the fact that new Dragons are directed to leave home. There might be good reasons to travel, but I suspect it’s mostly so that they aren’t discovered. But I’ve decided to stay, so being found out is looking rather inevitable. And I’d be lying if I said I was totally fine with that.
But if I will be found out, I need to make a good impression. And I don’t think what my parents have taught me about meeting people fully applies. I’ll keep thinking on it later. Today is Christmas. And though it’s not the same for me as it was in previous years, I’m going to enjoy the day.
Not outside, though. Not only is it winter, but we got a white Christmas like everyone talks about. Except that it’s not snow. My window only shows the bright white of heavy fog. There’s probably a spell I could use to turn some of that into snow, but I don’t want to bother. I just want to spend today with my family.
“Merry Christmas!” Dad greets me as I come down the stairs. It’s getting harder to surprise me; seeing past walls with heat is not tremendously difficult, and I’m getting used to it. But that’s not to say I can tell what my presents are, except that there aren’t any pets. Not that I’d particularly want one.
“Merry Christmas!” I reply with a smile. If my parents see that my eye color has changed, I think I can deal with that now. Plus there’s always that eye color spell and I’m sure one of my friends could’ve used that on me anytime. Well, before two weeks ago, anyway; I’d resist it now.
“Your brother’s already waiting by the tree,” Dad responds. “Breakfast will be ready soon, alright?”
I didn’t get everything I asked for, but I don’t really expect to. And it’s always fun doing puzzles with my family on Christmas. It’s getting closer to the end of the day now, with dinner already finished and cleaned up. I hope we can keep doing this for a long time.
“Hey, Emilie?” Dad beckons me to him near the den. “Could you chat with your father in private for a bit?” I wonder what this is about? It’s… probably not my eye color. I follow him in, and he shuts the door.
One good thing about being a Dragon: I know for a fact that Al isn’t crouched behind the door to listen in.
Dad sits in one armchair, so I take a seat opposed. “Now, you know I don’t mean to pry, but is something going on between you and Jessica?”
Oh. I can’t physically see myself and I don’t know what the heat difference indicates, but I bet I’m flushed. What do I say to that?
“Did she do something to upset you?” Dad prompts.
“N-no, I-I—” I stammer. “It’s—complicated,” I manage.
“Something like with Shannon?”
Now that, I think I can answer. “Not really, but it’s related?” Technically true.
He smiles as he exhales. “Now, I don’t know what you’re going through, but I have some advice that should work for any friendship: don’t neglect it. Neglect ends a relationship, and you have a good thing going with Jessica. I wouldn’t want you to ruin it.”
I frown, thinking. “What do you mean?”
“Talk it out. Spend time with her. You don’t have to tell her why you stayed away immediately. Although you might want to, eventually.” His tone is warm. Daddy doesn’t always understand, but he’s always genuine.
And I think that’s why Mommy married him. “It’s… complicated. I can’t tell her.”
“What seems important now won’t always stay important. And I think that if people would talk things out, the world might be a nicer place.”