Aubin

Aubin

The Beginnings

Warm. That was her first thought, first memory. The warmth enfolded her body, embracing it and wrapping her in a cocoon of safety. But there was something else--something beneath the warmth. She could feel it, biting and clawing, its frigid breath cutting away at the warmth. Cold. That was her second thought, second memory.
Her eyes fluttered open. It was dark, but little rays of light pierced the darkness. Where am I? she wondered. And...who am I? She raked her mind, but could find no answers. Nothing but warmth, and cold, and fog. Well, then I shall have to find the answers!
She moved. Her limbs were long and slender, and two wings fluttered on her back, batting against something cold and hard. Focusing, she stopped fluttering and folded the wings against her body. She stood and took a step, but stumbled backwards. She tripped over her long tail and fell onto her back, something brittle breaking beneath her. Sharp fragments poked her tender skin, and she awkwardly rolled off the broken pieces. Regaining her feet, she settled back on her haunches and examined the scattered fragments of what appeared to have once been an egg.
Could it have been... my egg? But it's so little...and old. The fragments of the shattered egg were indeed faded, but the residue of blue that lingered on the outside of the shell were memories of what could have once been a radiant blue. She set the piece down among its fellows. Now what? She looked around. The space she was in was small, and it glowed with a faint bluish-white shimmer. The most light came from above, shining down in rays through the porous substance.
With one claw, she reached up and touched the ceiling. It was hard, compacted, smooth, and cold. Very cold. An involuntary shiver made her small body tremble. But the light that filtered down from above called her, tugging on her heart. I need to go up.
She reached up and began to scratch and claw, sending chunks raining down. The pieces bounced off her, leaving traces of cold wherever they touched. Hard as it was, the ceiling easily gave way to her probing claws, and she began to open a tunnel to the surface. As the tunnel stretched upward, she used her wings to move up with it. Awkwardly flapping in the small space lifted her light body enough for her to claw her way up the shaft she dug.
Once she clawed high enough, the substance became soft and fluffy, and it tumbled down around her of its own accord, to land with quiet thuds at the bottom. Her thin, fragile body shivered constantly, and her white skin began to take on a bluish tint. How much further? Her wings ached from the strain of being used for the first time, and it became a struggle just to stay aloft. Just when she was about to give up and drop, allowing herself to fall back to where she had come from, her claws broke through a thin crust, and bright white light gleamed into her sensitive eyes. Closing them, she dug her claws in and hauled her tired body out, onto the surface. As she collapsed on the cold, unwelcoming ground, a word floated through her mind, reaching out from the fog that clouded her memories. The word named the freezing flakes that battered her body and swirled around her small form. Snow.




Warm. Again, she was warm. And that meant safe. But...how? She plucked up the courage to open her eyes. Once again, she was inside a place made of compacted snow, but this time she could hear the raging storm, whistling outside of the shelter. And this time, she wasn't alone. Her eyes made out a blurry form on the other side of the space. It moved, a tail curling and wings flapping. A head turned to her, four white-blue eyes meeting hers.
"You're awake. Finally." The voice was masculine and young, but stern and unwelcoming.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice thin and whispery.
The dragon shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have a name. Who are you?"
She blinked. "I...don't know."
He snorted. "Figures." He turned away.
She stared at his back, her eyesight sharpening the longer she looked. "You're very...green." The word came to her, though she had no reason to know it.
He looked down at himself. "Yes. I suppose I am." He looked back at her. "And you're...white. Or, you will be once you defrost."
"So..." she thought hard. "You should be...Vert."
"Vert?" he seemed startled and unhappy. "What does that even mean?"
"Umm..." she looked into her memories. "Green."
"Oh." he frowned. "So what are you?"
She thought again. "Aubin. White and bright."
"Hmph," the dragon grunted. "Fine, whatever. Doesn't matter." He curled up as far away from her as possible. "Annoying little fae."

"You know, Vert, after so many years just wandering the Icewarden's domain, I want a home." Aubin curled her tail around Vert's. She wiggled closer to his warmth, their wings now touching as they lay inside the dome of ice.
"But we are home, whenever we have each other," Vert replied, his voice tender, but sleepy. "I love you, Aubin." He squeezed her tail tighter with his.
"I love you too, Vert," Aubin responded, returning the squeeze. "But...but what about our future?" She scratched the ice beside her with a claw.
"Future?" Vert became a little more alert. He unwound his tail and rolled over. Gently, he turned Aubin over so that their eyes met.
"Yes, Vert." Aubin traced his tough claws with the tips of her slender ones. "What if we want to have a family? What if we meet other dragons to bring into our lives? We can't just wander forever."
Vert's four eyes blinked slowly. "You're right. But--"
Aubin sighed. "I'm tired. You're tired. Let's talk about it in the morning."
Vert frowned. "Okay, whatever you want..."
They intertwined their claws and closed their eyes. Aubin's breath quickly became deeper and her breaths regular.