Autumn's Fall

XVIII. So Close Yet So Far

With one last hit, the dragon was free from his prison of ice. Dragging his shivering body out of the jagged hole, he looked around in the pale darkness. He stood in the little pool, the water barely going up to his knees, gazing at the infinite amount of leaves that stood sloping away from the water--the only place that was free of them.

Shaking his head, he thought back over what he could remember. Whenever he was reduced to this state his brain got a little fuzzy, and the numbing cold didn't help any. He remembered falling into the leaves. Someone had found him, but he'd been too distracted by the growing greenery to get a good look at the person before they had tried to freeze him solid. He had to admit it was a welcome change from being bound by the Minister of Spring's plants. What had happened with that anyway? Normally, they would not have stopped until they found him—he quivered as he remembered the loathsome feel of that vice grip on his limbs. What had stopped them this time?

He lifted his snout into the air and sniffed. There was certainly a human close by, but where? He followed the scent until he stood before the rock wall, and there his snout encountered flesh. A small hand, wrapped almost completely in vines, was just visible in the darkness at the edge of the leaves. No other parts could be seen. A feeling long forgotten sparked inside his little heart.

Planting his small claws on the vines, he tried to tear into them, but they were too strong for him to break. Crawling higher, he worked to push and scrape the leaves away until a bowed head appeared. He nudged it, but it did not seem to notice his presence. Scraping, jumping, kicking, and pushing with his little body, he finally managed to get a somewhat wide area free of leaves. A body wrapped in plants finally appeared in the dim light of morning that shone into the mound. Only the head, half of one arm, the other hand, and parts of the legs were visible from the mass of plants wrapped around its body. The person's head was still bowed forward. Its long brown hair, which fell in gentle curls down to its lap, concealed its face from view. The dragon lifted his head and listened to the silence. A gentle breath came from the person; they were still alive.

The young dragon slowly backed away and climbed one of the thick vines. He shook his head as he looked around him. Yesterday, this place had been empty with hardly a stick in sight. It was hard to believe that this dense jungle littered with leaves had appeared overnight. A shiver of delight shook his limbs, he wasn't bound by those vines! For the first time in nearly three hundred years he was free, and he could go wherever and do what he wanted! There were no Ministers here to stop or bind him, and they would not discover his escape for a good ten years. By then he'd be long gone, perhaps to another country.

He clawed and lept from vine to branch. The top of the cliff was drawing near, and he leaped forward to the next place with hope soaring in his heart. His claws touched the vine, but it shifted under him, and he fell with a cry to the floor.

He sank beneath the leaves and into darkness. Gritting his teeth, he tunneled through them as fast as he could while anger grew in his heart. Freedom was within his grasp and no amount of slippery vines would keep it from him! He rose from the leaves and bounded up the path he had found until he came to the place where he had fallen.

There was a rather large gap from where he perched to the tangle of vines that he needed to reach. The distance was farther than he'd first thought. He flicked the tip of his tail back and forth as he thought and searched the plants around him for any other places to land. But there were none, only straight trees without branches were in this particular place, leaving only that small tangle of vines as a safe place to land. Below him was open space, a few branches that twisted away from where he wanted to go, and that never ending pile of leaves.

Gathering his limbs, he readied to spring across the gap. Pushing off he managed to get one of his claws hooked around the vine while the rest of him dangled in midair. Stretching as much as he could, he tried to get his other claw up but his body shape was against him, and he had to release his grip on the vine yet again. He landed with a whump, the leaves scattering before enveloping him again. A small roar burst from his lips as he stamped his feet in frustration then shot off through the leaves again.

Again and again he tried and came so close, but the safe spot remained just slightly beyond his reach.

ab§d

A small sound woke her from her slumber. Coughing, the Minister of Winter spat out the small remnants of the leaves that had sought to stifle her. Her limbs were sore and achy from being forced to remain in one spot all night. But no pull sought to tear out her heart from her chest, and she was very grateful for that blessing.

Gingerly lifting her head, she tried to rub her throbbing neck, but the arm she tried to lift stopped midway. Her heart sank as she saw her vine-and-root-wrapped arm, only her forearm was freely movable on her right side, her left arm was almost immobile except for her hand. Her legs were secured to the floor and she could do nothing but cross and uncross them. From her thighs to her shoulders nothing was visible except for plants. This had the Minister of Spring written all over it. But, why?

Wrenching back and forth, she sought to free herself from the plants' grasp, but they hardly budged. Her right arm just barely reached her left, and she scratched and pulled at the smaller vines, but no matter how much or hard she tried they would not give way. She was hopelessly stuck!

Her breathing became rapid as she lifted her head to look around, but she could see nothing besides the new jungle growth. There was no one to help her, and she deeply regretted not crying out for help when she could have, no matter who it might have been. Of course, she might not have been any better off if she had.

The desperation of her situation finally hit home with a cold jolt of fear strong enough that it made her wince. Something wet trickled down her cheek; she lifted her hand to wipe at it, being obliged to lower her head half way to reach her face. A tear, but she never cried; it was as rare as a blue moon for her to cry. She was surprised enough when she'd shared a few tears with Sophia on the docks. But, at this point, what harm could a few more tears do?

Leaning her head back against the wall, she let her tears fall as soft sobs wracked her body. A sudden explosion in the leaves surprised her out of her pity party. Sniffling, she looked to where the leaves were moving. She had a pretty good idea of what was beneath them.

ab§d

He'd gotten closer this time, managing to sink his teeth into the vine before releasing his grasp and falling back into the cushioning leaves. As much as he hated to, it was time he finally admitted the truth: he was simply too small to cross the gap. That meant waiting to grow bigger, but how long would that take? Though he was loath to spend another minute in this place, he knew he had a good ten years before anyone would come to check on him. What were a few more months of waiting when freedom was within his grasp? He tunneled back though the leaves to take a drink from the pool, but what he saw when he emerged from the leaves brought him to a standstill.

Pale blue eyes were looking straight at him, the person was awake! He'd seen those eyes before, but not in the face staring at him. This was a woman. He hadn't seen a woman in...he didn't know how long. The Minister of Winter had not partaken in a battle with him in ages, but he knew she had been near except for this last time. Now he knew why. This also explained the prison of ice. Sniffling drew his attention; tears were streaming down from those familiar eyes. Cautiously he drew closer, she watched him but did not say a word.

Slowly, carefully, he approached until he was perched on her knee. Standing on his back legs, he put his front claws on her shoulder and sniffed at her face. If it wasn't for her tears, she could be considered quite pretty, but what he was concerned with was her scent. It confirmed his suspicion: this was the new Minister of Winter, which meant the woman who had been as a mother to him was dead. They hadn't even told him. And why should they?

A pitiful cry came from him as his own tears came. Suddenly a warm hand took hold of him, surprising him for a moment, as the lady drew him close to her chest. He wondered at her as she stroked his back, murmuring comforting words to him as her tears fell. No one had treated him like this since...since before he was like this. It felt good. He curled against the woman and yet another part of his heart, long forgotten, cracked open by the tiniest measure.