Yuletide: Night Five
Steam curled through the air carrying the scent of mint to the
far corners of the room. The cats
sniffed and avoided the ribbons of steam.
The elves smiled happily. The kitsune
pricked his ears. The black dragon settled
before the fireplace a stone mug in his right paw full of boiling mint
tea. It was a black mug carved with
runes around the rim with a handle that twisted and turned like a honeysuckle
seeking chaos. The mug had a sheen as if
it was carved of obsidian and the kitsune with his sharp eyes had trouble
telling where the mug began and the dragon’s shining talons ended as they
curved through the handle. The steam
rose before the dragon’s luminous silver eyes and they glittered queerly in the
refracted light. Pouring a long stream
of tea down his throat the dragon began.
“For a while the Ice Basilisk sought Planes with more obscurity. Planes where steam or smoke or darkness would
hide him. He even visited the Plane of
Curtains.” The dragon chuckled
darkly. “Adventures he would not
forget. Curtains conceal and reveal
making them a two edged sword and he often left ice statues in unassuming nooks
waiting to surprise other travelers. He
tried a blindfold but that, ended badly, his curse was very strong.” The dragon poured another scorching stream of
tea down his throat. “There was one he
met that burned bright in his mind, and for all we know she burns there still. They met in the Plane of Steam and Stone.”
The Plane of Steam and Stone
Air as thick as honey
Or wispy as cirrus clouds
Draped with steam
Mystery’s shroud,
Rising from the stone
The water burbling hot
Sent by the red of the depths
Molten, churning, rock,
Scapes are fashioned of stone
Plains, spires, mountains, vales
Gardens of bright gems
Where dust is doomed to fail,
Mineral by mineral
Crystal flowers grow
Coated with perpetual drops
Down their stems to flow,
Vents rend the earth
Heat arises lifting high
The curtains of steam billowing
Far into the sky.
Here the Ice Basilisk wandered
A ghost within the mist
Perpetually gleaming with condensation
Perpetually stricken by grief and whist,
Here the phoenix Lyra
Hurled heartbreak and fire
In a land that absorbed it undaunted
She unleashed her ire,
Across the Planes across the Realms
By water, fire, air, and earth
She had known so many beings
But of true friends found a dearth,
Betrayed for beauty, betrayed for flame
So many she had unwittingly outshone
She raged at deceit and fear
She traveled the worlds alone,
Here a curtain of steam arose
Concealing fire from ice
Lending each what they thought they wanted
What each thought would suffice,
Around a mountain each did travel
Unknowingly headed for a windswept peak
Clear of steam the barren stone
That which neither dared to seek,
Staring morosely at his steps
The Ice Basilisk rounded the final stone
His gaze found talons upon the peak
Talons and feathers that golden shone,
Not a curl of steam between them
The Ice Basilisk turned to flee
A musical voice cried “Wait!”
His heart beat violently,
How he longed to turn
To speak with one whose voice
Was unsullied by fear or scorn
But fear was his captor and he made his choice,
Before the phoenix’s astonished eyes
He disappeared from sight
His gleaming tail whipped around the corner
As if to hide its light.
The steam arose around the mountain
The wind stilled giving way
Concealment returned
Baffling, soothing, hearts’ that frayed.
The black dragon upturned his mug over his snout draining
it: condensation glistened on his scales.
“So went the first meeting between the Ice Basilisk and the phoenix
Lyra. Forlorn he fled leaving her
unfrozen but baffled. For what manner of
creature would flee her? Phoenixes
usually enraptured people rather than inspiring retreat and it seemed the
strange lizard hadn’t even looked beyond her feet. Intrigued she endeavored to follow him but
the veils of steam shifted and churned and stone rose all around. By the time they had both left the Plane of
Steam and Stone they had only caught glimpses of each other, and every time the
Ice Basilisk saw a glint of gold he ran.
His white form blended with the steam, camouflage in a habitat strange,
it kept him one step ahead of the phoenix, and the steam kept his gaze from
hers. They departed the Plane separately
without ever seeing eye to eye. It was
their first meeting, but not their last.”
Wrapping both forepaws about his mug he nodded regally to his audience
and they burst into applause. But why?
The kitsune thought. Couldn’t they talk without looking? And why couldn’t the basilisk blindfold
himself, did it just fall off, or did the curse take a twist when he did? A twist for the worse.
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