A Promise of Iron

Flames leaped along my arm, licking around my wrist and tickling the smooth, pale skin of my inner forearm. It didn't burn, it never burned. It was the comfort of a woolen blanket and the hug of an absent father, it was the sun warming your shoulders in the day and the passionate whispers of lovers in the night. The scales, hard and smooth as stones, tensed between my thighs as we moved throuh the air, past the golden fire we had just created. We were one being soaring and diving, burning and killing. With fire in the air and blood in our mouths we made our final move...

"Sophie!" I looked up to see my friend staring at me with horror. "Your arm!"

The group of candles we had lit when the power went out were now no more than stubs. Wax, both hot and cool coated my elbow and the flames were slowly edging up towards my chin, which was resting on my hand. "Oh shit!" I jarred up and grabbed the glass of not-so-ice water and poured it down the lenghth of my arm. 

Kat ran to the kitchen and grabbed a tea towel for the floor and table, and started wiping the water-wax mixture from the furniture. As I was bending down to help she looked up at me.

"How could you not feel that?" 

"I don't know, " I shrugged as I grabbed another cloth. "I was zoned out."

"That still doesn't explain why you're not burned," she pointed out, helpfully. 

" I don't know! Maybe I'm made of stone," I mocked. "Do we have any of those hot chilis left, being on fire has made me kind of hungry.

There, a smile."I think there's some left in the fridge, but if you start breathing fire you're on your own!"

I chuckled as I let the bluey glow from the refridgerator fill the kitchen/living room of Katherine's house. I grabbed the jar of chilied peppers and flopped on the couch. Kat was close behind with a bag of Cool Ranch Doritoes and two root beer. With it being her house, and her being Katherine she of couse picked what we watched. Four hours later and many conversations about wedding dress silhouttes and over dressed toddlers (no thanks to you, TLC) the sky began to lighten and our eyes began to droop. We rolled onto the, now half-deflated air matress and piled blanket upon blanket over ourselves until warmth was acheived. A few minutes later Kat was out like a light.

I lay there in the November morning, tracing patterns in the grain of the ceiling with my eyes and watching the room grow lighter with each passing minute. Just as the thought of sleep creeped into my mind, a voice strode in behind it. 

Sophie.

Sophie, come home.

We're all waiting, sweetling.

I'm waiting.