Chapter Text
The storm outside was brewing loudly with thick blankets of white snow. The outside was clamor and rapid with the incessant downpour of ice. Cold gust kept blasting through their scales as it rocked down the wooden structure and clacked the already shut windows.
Two dragons were huddled beside a small campfire set on a narrow stone platform. Its fire was flickering bleakly. One of them was shivering wildly as it tries to cautiously arch nearer to its trembling heat.
Then the door shut open, letting the raging storm freely wreak in. A dragon as pale as utter white marched its way inside, standing at the doorway and littering with snow. He looked around the room, saw the two dragons nestled by the campfire, and shook off the snow that concealed it, throwing slushy debris all over.
The two dragons at the campfire shuddered at the sudden cold as one of them flared its wings to hiss at the pale dragon.
"You idiot, are you trying to take out our remaining fire?" Winter snarled, shaking off the snow from his spread wing before folding it back.
"Nothing I do ever amuses you," Qibli pitifully mourned as he closed the door behind him, showing him his ludicrous face. Winter rolled his eyes before whisking away to the other side of the cabin cursing. He arched his head at him, smirking.
Qibli turned to the campfire and took out the bag that was slung to him, "Anyways, here's what I have gotten so far," he yanked it out of him and slid its contents out. Twigs, leaves, sticks, and stones piled up on the floor as he shook the bag before sealing it, "Fuel for the fire," he said, then he turned and opened the other pocket and slid out severed limbs, clawed rabbits, and a surprisingly talonful of small birds, "and more food for the time being. What do you think, Moon?"
Moonwatcher hovered her gaze from the fire over to the clutter, "Looks great," she said. She carefully rose from her spot as she slithered toward him and delicately clawed the pile, "This should do for now."
She clutched a talonful from the junk and was about to turn around before eventually withdrawing it as he grabbed her wrist and nipped off something from the mess, "Hold on, let me take this first." He held it near the fire to reveal a fine-looking miniature bush, "This looks neat. might as well keep it."
"You don't need those. Everything you see here is neat anyways," Winter yelled from the other side of the cabin. He came back with a cup of dried milk and a bowl of frosted pork ribs as he set them beside the campfire and grabbed the tinder from Qibli's pile to burn with it.
"Awh, jealous that I find a shrub neater than yourself?" Qibli teased, his smirk rising, and Moon tried to stifle the giggle with her talon. When Qibli saw her composure, he added, "Nevermind, guess royalty doesn't serve you to be grateful." He backed away before Winter tried to smack him with his tail.
"Where did you get it?" Moon asked while scooping the mess up to be put into the fire.
"I found this along with some other stuff inside a trunk," he deferentially explained. " It looked so strange compared to the rest of them. Since I couldn't find the critter that lives there, I just took everything with me and ran away." Winter tipped his head at him in disbelief.
"But hey, at least it has some food!" he fluttered, putting his claw inside the shrub to reveal little bundles of berries clustered to each branch.
Winter sighed as he took the shrub from him and inspected it in the firelight, his face plated with the stoic, unamused face he always has, "What's so interesting about this anyway?"
"I'm not sure what it is," Moon told. The shrub glimmered dull, but when Winter dangled it over, the leaves shone reddishly above the campfire and the berries looked flamingly tender.
"Don't put it too close!" Qibli exclaimed, standing on his hind legs and flared at Winter, urging him to lift his arm. Moon hadn't realized that he was holding it too close to the fire.
Then suddenly, a huge torrent barraged its way inside, seizing the fire to a backlash toward them. It made its way through the cabin, rattling shelves and desks, and dropped several vials to the floor.
Winter winced at the sudden blaze on his scales as he took a step back. Fortunately for Qibli, he gripped the shrub tightly in his talons.
"Give it to me," he said as he reached forward, "it's too precious." Winter reluctantly dropped the shrub on his talon, twisting his face with utter disgust.
"You and your snow-sniffing brain," Winter spitefully concluded. He rolled his eyes again and rubbed his forecrest, and when he was done mesmerizing, he took the tray of food he had with him and took off to the corner to eat his supper.
"So, how's the outside?" Moon asked. She snaked near the window that had snapped open, staring at the intense bulleting snowfall outdoor, "Any indication that we could still leave?"
Qibli closed the shutter for her, "Nothing much. Just snow and more snow." He gave her a hewn elk that shivered chillingly on her talons. "It's probably a Moon's miracle that I managed to find a good amount of available prey there. Too bad it took the time out of me and froze my scales." He shivered at the moment he spoke those latter words and held the long slick pelt that wrapped him around the neck like a coiled snake.
Moon intuitively draped her wing around him, "Well, in any case, we could stay here a bit longer." She let the elk aside, gestured at the bunch, and bumped him to lay down beside the campfire. She continued to put more tinder into the campfire to kindle more progressively, thus warming their scales from up to a wingspan away. When Moon met Winter's gaze from the corner, he stared at her in utter disbelief.
He honestly had to do it, she pleasantly thought. Even though she could no longer read their minds, she chuckled at the thought that that was Winter's statement all along.
When the fire flickered fiercely, none of them managed to let out a word for a while.
Abruptly, Moon paced around the hut, placing the vials back to their respective places. She swept off the broken bottle shards with her wings and dumped them into the sack. Consecutively, Qibli took a crooked fowl from the bunch and impaled it with a stick, barbecuing it evenly before sampling a nibble.
Winter, having finished his cup of milk, slithered back to the campfire. Qibli watched him thaw the already bitten ribs as he roasted them over the campfire and ridiculously crunched a good chunk of it.
"You have no manners for an overly expectant IceWing," he mocked him jocosely while he was gnawing his meat.
"You have enough vigor for a SandWing to return here being smothered by the blizzard," he faithfully returned, then he stumbled sideways as he thwacked him with his wing.
"Enough, you two," Moon bellowed at the two who were now bickering murmurously. She prodded them apart from each other and nestled herself in between. She took the severed elk as she joined the cooking session, "Couldn't enjoy a moment without any interruption?"
"Actually," Winter interrupted, "we would have if had let us-" Moon frowned at him menacingly and he immediately backed off. "Alright. Fine. But I'm not speaking for the hut."
"It's an old house," Qibli exclaimed, "even an abandoned one at this point, from what I could tell," he gestured at the room, where the dull wooden walls were splintering and splitting loosely from the storm. "The dragons that lived here knew the blizzard was coming and took everything with them. The necessities, of course. That's why we couldn't find any scraps of food."
He went on, "In fact, it may even collapse on us at any moment now," and as if the situation couldn't get any worse, they heard a loud thud from outside the hut one part of the rafter fell off the roof.
Qibli sniffed it off and continued, "Besides," he said, "we wouldn't have sought refuge here if you didn't come looking for us when we are."
"Or, you could have sent me a letter instead while you had the long-stiffening chance," Winter retorted despite the grimacing scowl he was now getting from Moon, "so it's not entirely my fault." He crossed his arms and held himself upright.
Qibli, as if realizing it, looked reassuringly in his direction, "Right, good point," then he raised the masticated fowl to formulate a truce, "you got me there."
Apparently not noticing the mischievous appearance, Winter raised a talon and took a moment to process what's going on, then gawked at him and back to Moon.
Moon sighed in defeat.
...
The turbulent downpour continued to rage on and on outside, constantly battering the meek shelter of the three trembling travelers. What seemed to be daylight barely flashed from the outside as the waning firelight bathed them belittle from the inside.
For Moon, it was only making matters worse.
For Winter, it was pompously infuriating.
And for Qibli, it was making him dumbfounded to the point of being a stupor.
It only a moment for her to realize how very profound they were despite the din. No word has passed between them as they only slacked off by the cabin fire. The three of them were deep in thought, each of their own reminiscent reflection and staring at the flickering fire like burdened souls. As if the tension was starting to rise off of them, she looked over to her former clawmates, and they amassed a feeling that she knows she wasn't used to, but it all seemed too familiar.
That feeling was an emotion of hopelessness.
It was an emotion that made her shiver more than the immense cold outside; The lack of something that drives someone forward, only for a chance to succeed in something. The main fuel for such dragon to strive forward, whether be natural or forced upon, and without it, would there really be anything else?
Now looking again, they might as well consider losing all of their motivation.
The fire continued to flicker, faintly gleaming out of the corner of her eye, bringing out something inside of her.
"Maybe you're right," Winter broke out, bewildered to see the two looking startled. He poked the almost eaten ribs as he quietly spoke, "Maybe that shrub isss..something precious."
Qibli flicked his tongue as he took out the shrub, "I guess it is," he smiled. He reached it forward and dangled it in front of the fire, its leaves were reflecting the red blaze, "I just thought I could keep it."
Dangling it again, he added, "I thought that I could use this as some sort of adornment or something," then looking at Winter, he unfurled and furled his wings, "I wouldn't want to eat it, of course."
"Then what use is it then?" Winter growled, "If you can't eat it, then don't you think it's a little bit useless?" He pointed his wings wholly to the room, where the wooden planks would soon break and splinter. Moon caught a slight vision that ingesting it wouldn't make it any better.
"I know" he replied, "not here. There's nothing I could do right now and this place would fall apart anyway." He moved forward, "So after this charade we're currently in, I could emblazon this somewhere for the next festival."
"That might be a bit too late, don't you think?" She infringed.
He looked over to Moon, sighing, "You know I'm trying, don't you?" He groaned, "I guess I am."
Dangling it for the last time, he quietly hummed, "It's been a while, but I barely remembered the last time I've done something memorable ever since winter came." He looked at Winter, who only snorted at him, "Maybe not, but before you know it, all the festivals of last year passed and the year had changed."
"How so?" Winter tipped his head, looking plussed.
Moon wished she had thought of something to say.
"I'm saying that something still clings on to me," he blurted, "Something tells me that I'm not yet done. Something-" he stammered, "perhaps..nothing had changed."
A lurched feeling ached inside her stomach that prevented her from intruding, but she knew she couldn't disagree with what he said.
"Everything was so...frosty."
Winter, instead of being skeptical at that accidental 'pun', was floundered to see Qibli's expression down, "Yeah." He drooped his wings and let out a frost breath, "I guess there was nothing much to look forward to," he finally admitted.
It was only several weeks ago than what seemed to be the longest night had ever passed: Winter Solstice. Moon faithfully remembered how the day shorty sunk down as soon as the stars began to appear, twinkling brightly from the bluish-gray horizon to the dark purple underwing of a NightWing. Eventually, when the time has come, all will follow to celebrate this sacred holiday, a series which had stretched starting from the Eve of the Northern Star all the way until the Year's End Festival. It was also the beginning of winter turning.
When they were still separated, Moon was back at Jade Mountain Academy along with some of her best buddies and fellow Winglets. Qibli was at the SandWing Palace, with Queen Thorn and the Outclaws. And Winter had his own fun with the Talons of Peace at the flourishing Sanctuary. When snowfall came, it had been that way ever since, only flying here and there and stayed put wherever they are for most of the season.
Until they apparently decided to sneak out for each other, too busy trying to pry on each other's businesses like snooping coons, and when the storm came, everything was so rasped and sudden, and it had been that way ever since. Now here they are, internally panicking inside a humbly home, frankly waiting to be swallowed by sleets.
Are we not moving on?
"Maybe you're right," She meekly agreed, "maybe there's something that we're still clinging on."
When she finished her hewn elk, she took the shrub from Qibli and examined it, "But you know, we still can do something. As little as this wicked hut may be, and as terrible as the storm we're in, I know we still can."
The shrub laid feebly on her talons, but it still glittered lovely under the dull light, "I know what to do."
Then she rose up and strolled across the room, opening desks and chests and cabinets alike. Winter and Qibli stared at each other confused, then watched as she swivels her head here and there, craning her neck on every container and enclosure she could see.
"You guys might like this one," she stated. When she gave up on finding what she was looking for, she returned with a pitifully broken string and puffed a heavy sigh. She stood on her hind legs, avoiding the fire, then they watched in awe as she carefully tied one end of the string to the main branch of the shrub and tied the other end to the loose splinters of the ceiling of the hut.
When she's done, she motioned the both of them to sit beside her. The shrub glimmered more vividly this time, having to be hanged just above the campfire much like a dragon trying to plead for its life before eventually falling to the hard fiery ground.
"I'm not sure about this one," she added, staring intently at the dangling shrub, hoping that it won't actually fall, "but I think it will do for now."
"You can say that again," Qibli nerved.
"And what are we doing exactly?" Winter feverishly mused.
"I'm going to tell you guys something," she said. "If I remember, there's a story I know that happened a long time ago," she shuffled her wings, "it's about three dragons who are traveling to distant lands, then across the desert, they'd find something special. They depended on the Northern Star that guided them as their direction."
She let out a nervous breath, "I couldn't exactly get all the details. Maybe I'm even wrong. But somewhere, in the end, there's-" she shook her head and scratched her forecrest, "There's an open cabin in the middle of the desert. And that's all."
But she laughed it off and shifted her gaze to the room, "Though honestly, I find it funny that it came as a coincidence, the three of us are here, the shrub is glittering, the fire is hopeful." Then she plumed out a small breath of fire, enkindling the campfire to the slightest delight, "Plus, we are in a cabin, after all."
As if astonished, the three of them exchanged vaguely meaningful expressions.
"Three Moons," spoke Winter's comment, clear in the midst.
And just as she was about retort, another torrent waged through. It snapped open the window and door and seized the three dragons with a sharp shrill. When it hit the fire, it flared greatly against the three of them, blazing against their scales. Snowfall flitted their way through, bestrewing the room with hail and almost quenched out the shrieking fire. The three of them had to retreat from the warring fire, press against each other, huddle around, and watch in shock as the chaos proceeded to ensue.
The shrub swung alarmingly from the ceiling. Thankfully, the torrent had done no harm to it. But when it was done, it had spared nothing else in the pitifully destroyed room.
"Have I spoken too soon?" Winter unfurled himself and stared at the mess. Everything was so misplaced and damaged. The vials were now broken, the floor was glazed with ice, and their only food supply has been contaminated with rime, not that he wouldn't like it.
He carefully pattered around the room and between the mess, lifting his wings and tail for balance. He nitpicked the shards and chips as he passed by and tucked the remaining food left under his wing. When he returned to Moon, he saw the disappointment in her face and sank himself, "I'm sorry."
"Cheer up, Moon," Qibli spoke up beside her, placing his talon over to her shoulder, "it'll be over soon, we'll get through it." He took off and shut tight the window and door that was still open to the blizzard outside.
Moon dipped her head. She had really not expected this one, had she?
When Qibli returned to her, he also saw her disappointed face and sank himself.
But Moon forced herself to smile, "It's alright," she said, "I tried." She got up from her trance and fluttered her wings energetically, sending the wind off all over them.
"No, no," Qibli shuddered at the backlash, but he prodded Moon to sit back down, "It's a good story. It has potential. It actually helped."
He puffed out a small fume of fire to the campfire and gripped the dangling shrub, "I know what you're doing. Perhaps we can enact it." He backed off.
Moon watched him sweep the snow and dust apart with his wings, swishing them away to the corners of the walls. He took the rugged tapestries and torn curtains and mopped the floor almost seamlessly, polishing them as he passed by.
Over to Winter, he was cleaning the cabinets and tables, taking out the unnecessary junk, and threw them into the other sacks. He frustrated himself with what's left on the desks as took everything he deemed essential and slid them all into their bags, awarding himself with an inside shrug.
Together, they were tidying up the whole place as they each took their time, exchanging tasks and cleaning every part of the room until everything was back to the way it seemingly was.
When they're done, they brushed wings and beheld, "Ta-da!" Now the room was unsettlingly clean, and Moon couldn't help herself.
"You guys..." Moon bellowed.
"It's alright, Moon," Winter nodded at her, "We had to do something, had we?"
"You're welcome," Qibli replied.
"You didn't have to.." She croaked. She raised her arm and placed it on her head, trying to cover her eyes and her flustered face.
"We do," they uttered at the same time.
"Look, it may be old and frail," Winter came first, "but that doesn't mean that we can leave it in this shape. Someone else might make use of this, after all." He gestured at the room, "You know we've tried, so can't you at least appreciate?" He winced, already regretting what he'd said.
"Besides," Qibli followed, "if anything, it ain't our hut anyway." He inclined to Winter, who happily nodded.
They showed her the desks and tables, where they have been wiped off clean and free of stuff, ready to be used again. She also noticed how well kept the other items were inside the cabinets. Maybe they know what's best for the place, if the storm won't tear this place apart, that is.
So she shook her head, "But there's nothing we could do right now. The storm won't go anytime soon."
"We know, Moon," he exclaimed, "and we can't leave either."
They stepped aside and unfurled their wings as they nudged Moon to stand up, "So why don't we enjoy this cherishable moment without interruption, like you've said all long?"
Moon felt her innards twisting and her scales melting, but despite the intimidating breeze, she couldn't help but warm up beside them.
"Thanks a lot, you guys," she gulped. And before she knew it, she took their talons in hers, "It might as well helped."
Before Winter and Qibli could even respond or flinch, the dark starry night fell over them, swallowing them whole, ere the white sheets of snow ever did.
Moon closed on the two as she pressed the two bewildered dragons against hers. She clutched them as tightly as she can, her wings fully wrapping them within her as she curled her tail in. The two of them stiffened before ultimately softened, furling their own wings in and curled their tails. Her head rested on their shoulders, and her arms were draped over their necks. Eventually, they all gave in, relying their weight on each other while still bracing until everything felt comfortable.
Now, they are molded into an orbicular shape. A unison of black, green, yellow, and white surface, lit only by the lonely campfire behind them. The three of them hurled down to the ground, resting, and the hanging shrub swung to and fro, driven silently by the calm gale that passes by.
This was a moment that we truly needed for once.
It doesn't matter how much the storm hated them as it raged above them. It doesn't matter how much the time had passed when they would have done something else by then. It doesn't matter how many reactions they are getting from each other when they finally took off.
And it doesn't matter if the hut suddenly befalls on them. Maybe not.
As long as they are still here, her former clawmates, that's what mattered.
It's something to move on to.
Before they could take apart, she loosened herself from them and relaxed her wings. When they lifted their heads, she faltered before taking a deep breath and squeezed them again. This time, she didn't curl in completely and instead pecked them on the cheek.
Now she came back with two very flushed faces.
"Umm, you didn't really mean that, didn't you?" Winter tried to shy away. Qibli did.
"I think she did," he got back up. They both stared at Moon, who was now flushing herself.
"I couldn't ask for more, couldn't I?" She gently poked her claws.
"I guess that settles it, then," he declared.
They all smiled.
Huddled against each other, they wordlessly waited like a ritual that was about to happen. They exchanged glances in the certainty of allowing this time to happen, and nevertheless, they did. She felt their profoundness again as the three of them lacked in thought and were set away from all the issues they have. They cherished the passing moment as much as they can before the storm can and swallow them whole. Like the darkness of dragons, as it was, hopelessness once again filled the din, yet they didn't care at all.
But something tells her that that wasn't how's it supposed to end.
When they're done mesmerizing, they let drooped down their wings and didn't let out a word. They all listened to the clamorous downpour that rebelled against them like no end.
"So, we're not actually leaving yet, right?" Winter broke out from the silence. He looked around the tidied room, clearly worried about the storm.
"No, we're not," Qibli replied, looking at him. "We still have spare time," then the both of them looked at Moon, their eyes glowing with geniality, "Are you ready, Moon?"
Determined as ever, her consciousness said. Her mind was calling to her, for something was glistening across her eye. It opted her to see.
So be it.
"Yes," she answered. She draped her wings again on the two, letting their colligated temperature crawl across her scales.
Enclosed under her wings, she let out a hush, "Follow the Moon while you can."
She backed away and spun off toward the doorway. But ere she got out, she beamed, "Oh yeah, don't forget to take the mistletoe with you!" And before they knew it, she was now out from the feeble cabin and in through the raging blizzard.
Qibli and Winter were left in the hut.
"That, I did not expect," Qibli said, perplexed.
Winter sighed, "Yeah," he flapped his wings, "I guess NightWings do are unpredictable."
He snickered, "No, that's just Moon," he said as he jabbed him with his wing, "always out on her own, fulfilling prophecies or whatever visions she had in her mind that she liked." He looked at him and flicked his tongue, "You know, the usual."
Winter smiled, "That's the Moon I remember."
They both gazed on the open doorway, where snow kept flitting in.
"If I remember, Moon usually has someone beside her, don't you think?" He snorted.
"And we didn't even bother?" Qibli returned, "We're clearly not worrying about her."
Winter rolled his eyes, "You're going to blame me for this one, aren't you?' He sighed again and marched toward the doorway, grumbling under his breath. He unfurled his wing as he gestured at Qibli, "Right, now can we go?"
Qibli sneered at him, "As you say so." Then he dashed outside as he patted Winter reassuringly by the shoulders and made his way through the storm.
Winter puffed out a hiss of frost breath before closing the door behind him. Officially leaving the hut, they were now outside. He flared at the forest that stood above him, seizing all of his seasonal winds he needed within him. Then shortly after, he raced after Qibli and Moon.
...
The night was as quiet as ever, the sky was as dark as a black cloak, and the breeze was as lukewarm as ever. The mountains can now be seen from the distance, tearing through the black cloak with white fangs, as if the day suddenly wanted to interfere, and shone like deep pearls. Stars reflected every aspect of this vast horizon. They ranged from the mountaintops all the way to the pointing towers of the palace. They twinkled and glimmered like studded gems on the black cloak, showing a clear indication that the world won't be hopeless and be swallowed by solid darkness.
But notwithstanding all the embellishment, there is one thing that must stand out from the most. Even the Three Bright Moons speckled up above won't be involved this time. Instead, they only shed light on the path that marks the place of their destination.
"Follow the Northern Star," they said. "It will show you the way to where you're finding, and when you do, new hope would finally glisten." Now that is something that surely won't be turmoiled.
But oh, traveling there was already a big loss of energy, and somehow a pathetic waste of time. How far is this pathway go, and how much will they have to bate their wings and tire out their legs before they eventually get there? Will the Star flutter off sometime when the Moons were already on their way dispersing, in fact, how much had the time had passed? Will they ever even get there? What's that something on the end they're talking about? And the bickering goes on and on.
"But we're not actually stopping, are we?" One dragon said as they flew above the dunes. He twisted in the air before instantly regretting it as he flinched at the aching pain.
"No, we're not. So stop frolicking around," the other dragon scolded.
"Here we go again," the third dragon growled. "Nowhere to end now, are we? I've had enough already."
"She said it," the second dragon growled. He thwacked the first dragon with his wing as he lost balance and frenzied across the air.
"We're getting there," she bellowed as the two kept on fighting, "we're getting closer. I could feel it."
"How closer!?" The first dragon exclaimed before getting slapped in the snout by the second dragon, "Ahh!"
"It's true, though, are we actually getting any closer? How can you tell?" The second dragon said. He looked back at the bottomless dunes below.
"I'm not sure about this," the first dragon spoke, "I think we may as well have passed it."
The third dragon then gestured at the horizon, where in front of them was the Northern Star, "The Star doesn't lie," she declared. "Come on guys, we're definitely going to make it."
Over the course, they had flown and flown, but tiredness seemed to catch up to them.
"We just have to trust."
The two of them exchanged glances before staring at her now very tired expression. When she noticed that they're looking, she let out a small fume.
"Believe me," was all that she could blurt out. Then she bowed her head, her eyes squinting off to sleep.
But she flinched right after as the two dragons were now beside her, touching wings and prodded her to keep her head up. When she looked over to each of them, they nodded.
"We believe," The first dragon said.
"And we'll see for sure," The second dragon followed.
She paused before letting out a relieving sigh, "Thank you," then she shook her head, "but I wouldn't have done this myself."
And they all smiled right after.
Ironically, the thing didn't appear any while now, letting alone getting closer. But despite all of that, they continued moving onward, flying like their bodies didn't ache and scream, and none of the deserted hums ever did. Even so, they laughed and played while they can, killing the time and trying to put their hopes up. When they did try to hope, they prayed to the Moons and the Star above that they are lead right they are supposed to be, just like what they have all said.
And if ever that destination comes, they'd rely on it.
Even if the chances already seem to be too late.