fire flowers

As Dragon woke up, Wolf had disappeared. She shrugged, turned around, and slept until late in the evening. There was no need to hurry. The fire could attract unwanted beings, putting her in danger.

At night, she went out as she used to. Part of the forest had turned to ashes, and the first fire flowers bloomed.

“It looks fantastic!” Amazed, she watched the first signs of new life. “It’s like a painting: red and yellow against a black background.” She jumped up and down for joy. “This is a good place to be. I’ll stay here and wait till the rest blossom,” she said happily.

“You’re right,” her shadow agreed. “Let’s stay here and make camp. They look lovely in the dark.” Both sat down and enjoyed watching the flowers open and sparkle in the night.

“They’re like us—beautiful and tough.”

“Or stubborn,” Shadow replied, now half-sized as the moon was covered by a black cloud.

“You’re so little—disappearing already? Doesn’t matter, I can still hear you.” Dragon stretched out, her eyes fixed on the flowers, which even had a scent. But what was pinching her leg? A chest, buried in the earth, turned out to be the culprit. “Such a nasty little thing.” She gave it a swipe with her paw. It burst open, and an object the colour of the moon shone in the dark. Was it a dagger with a hilt shaped like a jaw? It didn’t look good.

A light breeze made her cough. The chest and the sword-like object made her nervous. It reminded her of the knight—the one she’d had for dinner after the hot tub…

“What are you doing? It’s late.” Padd appeared behind her. “It’s all burnt around here—filthy place. And Wolf’s gone. Did you notice that? And those flowers are staring at me.”

The fireflowers did seem to tilt toward him.

“Hefest’s work,” Shadow mumbled. “These aren’t flowers—they’re planted curses. Did Wolf trigger them?”

Dragon snorted. “Why would he? Wolf can’t tell a curse from a carrot. He’s probably stuck in a rabbit hole while hunting.” She wasn’t one to worry easily.

“D’you smell that? Like… something burnt. Is it… fur?” Padd sniffed and turned around. “Please, check my back, Dragon!”

A breeze stirred the ashes, and a familiar growl sounded.

Wolf!

His fur shimmered like smoke, and his eyes glowed like coals.

“Took you long enough,” Padd said. “Is this some sort of game?”

“What is this?” Dragon wondered.

“Hefest,” her shadow replied. “He traps souls. Wolf’s tied to the flowers.”

Wolf’s ghostly tail flicked.

Paddington lobbed a honeycomb at him. It sailed through his chest. “Stop being dead,” he shouted.

“I’m not dead,” Wolf corrected. “Just a bit tied to the flowers—absorbed, or…” A fireflower sprouted from his paw.

“How do we fix this, or are you happy this way, Wolf?”

“Trade,” Shadow whispered. “The forest likes balance. Let’s burn that stupid treasure.”

“Burn Hefest’s…?”

“Or,” Shadow continued slyly, “let it be. Wolf makes a good scarecrow—keeps us safe from intruders.”

Wolf howled—at least that sound was still the same.

Dragon hesitated.

“Stop!” he yelped. “I’m fading!”

Dragon roared. This was something she hadn’t foreseen.

“We can fight this,” Shadow said. “Let’s set it on fire!”

With a thunderous crack, the ground spat out a coughing Wolf.

“Dramatic enough for you?” he croaked, plucking a fireflower from his chest.

Dragon’s shadow slid back to her feet and shrank. “It wasn’t a good place, but the right place.”

“Next time, stick to stealing honey—better for the stomach!”

At sunset, the fireflowers glowed brighter.

“I could use a nap now.” Dragon yawned and curled up on the chest’s remains, Wolf grumbling at her side.

“Hefest will come for revenge,” Shadow warned. It didn’t impress Dragon.

Wolf sneezed. “I hate magic.”

“Let him. We’ve got the flowers on our side, and I’ve got Wolf back. Your fur’s clean—no spot of tar. Let’s sleep now, my friend. It’s been an exciting night.”

“I’m off,” Padd said. “It’s morning, and I’m out of honey… All this stress isn’t healthy.”

_{13.5.25
picture created by me with bing.com/create}