Forget Me Not

A lone child stood in a sea of blue. The soft haze of fog kissed the edges of pallid petals.  Drops of liquid crystal fell from his porcelain cheeks, falling to the damp ground. The child stood out, alone amongst his brethren of floran companions. His dark eyes contrasted with the common blue and shimmered as much or even more than his tears. The envious flowers around him basked in their beauty, yet they cringed at his threadbare clothes. Lost, alone, and barely clothed in worn-out cotton tunic and leggings, the boy cried out in the silence. He begged to the moon. He begged for it to illuminate his path. Lost, and with no help.

Yet I was there. I watched from afar as the child cried out in the cold dark night. A shiver crept up my legs, curving up my spine and to my chest. A weight fell over my heart. I could not leave the child alone. I had to help him.  Despite my better judgment. Despite my laws, my beliefs. Everything tossed to the cold west wind and up as an offering to the moon.  I felt no remorse as I made myself known to the boy. He would run, of that I was sure. Our kinds did not take kindly to each other and never would. Even so, maybe, just maybe he would run in the right direction. Would it be possible for the child to simply run his way back to his home, blinded by fear and darkness? Alas, fate had her eyes turned upon them, and oh how she loved to play.

He did not run.

Far from it, actually. The child stood frozen at the sight of me. Whether in fear or awe, I did not know. His tears all but ceased. They continued to slowly collect on the thirsty blue petals around him. However, it seemed that his fears came and went like the tears. Each drop of pure water dropped until his fears lay discarded in the back of his mind. I stepped forwards with a tentative, white-clawed foot. He still did not run. No, he shuffled forwards, albeit only slightly. I suddenly became aware of the ocean of space that still sat between us. The child’s fears returned with his tears whenever I grew closer. I padded through the frail, cyan blossoms with the swish of a white reptilian tail behind me. More and more of my saurian form escaped from vast cloud, before I stood before the child in my full-glory: a silver dracon of the West-wind Mountains.

He still did not run.

No, we both stood our ground, though neither one of us challenging the other. It was as if the air turned heavy, like water, and drowned us in it, yet we were still floating. Weight without weight. A tether to each other. Some strong emotion burrowed inside. So strong, it could even control a dragon’s heart. It dug deep in my chest, burning yet soothing. A nonsensical mixture of passion, fear, desire, selfish protectiveness coursed and pulsed through my body. But what was it? I knew that I wanted to help the child. I had to help him, and in one fleeting moment of brief connection between our eyes, despite our extensive differences, I knew. My mind was set and nothing in the world under the moon or above the stars could ever make me regret the decision I made that night. And so, I helped him.

Reaching out with my adolescent head, narrow and lean with youth, I nudged to boy with my nose. He gasped in surprise. The sound seemed loud in the quiet confines of the forest, yet I cherished it. The reason being that same unknown feeling that raced through my blood the very first time I laid eyes on the boy. It was the first sound I heard from the boy, and probably the last. I nudged him again, pushing him backwards. He stumbled and fell, the push being too strong. Instantly, I retreated. Worry crept over me, tremors running from foot to head like a billion tiny ants. The boy looked up, surprise and fear scrawled across his face, but the he reached up at me. His two arms held out waiting to touch me, like a thirsty willow aside a pond.  Hesitantly, I shuffled closer to the fallen child. My head lowered to the ground in woeful submission. He reached out and encircles his arms around my rough muzzle. Startled, I jerked back, unintentionally pulling the boys up. He laughed

He laughed.

It sounded like the most cheerful of spring days. Like a free stream, gliding over smooth river rock and cutting through the earth like a refreshing breath. It was addicting. The boy’s eyes crinkled in delight as his cheek rubbed against my coarse skin. The boy still clung to my head as I looked at him in bewilderment. I felt him writhe against my skin and grip tighter around my jaws. It was then that I noticed that he was suspended in the air. I rushed to set his feet on the ground, almost knocking him down again in the process. His small hand seized one of the horns atop my head, gently tugging my head down. He looked from me to the forest then back again. I understood immediately.

I guided the boy through the dark forest. My head lowered to his height and his hand clutching an ivory tusk as we walked together. The forest loomed above us. Its tall trees standing like hairs on the back of a wolf, coarse, straight, and thick. Their shadows fell across our backs, blocking out the full moon’s light. I covered the ground in pools of great black ink, but left dry in splotches where the moon’s rays kissed the earth. The soft sound of leaves and grass crinkled beneath our feet, unable to be seen by the lingering darkness. Soon, the boys began to recognize the worn path that we followed like ducklings. His warm hand pulled upon the chilled bone of my horn, directing me. The scent of man-fire grew stronger. I could hear their night songs and merried laughter even though it was still far into the distance.

It came to the point where the smell of man: their fire, waste, and sweat, became all too much. I shook away from the boy’s grasp and fell back, hiding amongst the hairs of the forest. He looked at me, his beautiful coal eyes filled with confusion. I shook my head, snorting and backing away. He knew where he was. There was no need for me to show him any further. He did not understand the perils that taunted me from going further.

Maybe I was lucky that night. Lucky that it was only a mere child that had lost his way into the maze-like forest. That he had no knowledge of the bad blood between our kin. But maybe I was not lucky. I was not so lucky to have seen such a wonderful creature, in the dead of night, contrasting with his radiant innocence. Maybe I had sealed my fate that night. Maybe I cursed myself to have memories of a night that I could never return to. To have met someone that I could never, ever meet again for fear of my own life and maybe his. However, there was one thing that breached my thoughts. It was so strong that it clung to my tongue, itching to be known. Yet, I had no quarrel with it. For I wanted to say it. I wanted so badly that this night would never pass.

So in the wee hours of the morning, the last time I would probably ever see the boy that neither he nor I knew what to call each other, I spoke to him before fleeing back to the confines of the dense forest and the rugged mountains.

“Forget me not.”