Xuelin

A cream-colored envelope sealed with a dab of yellow wax, the unassuming letter could easily be overlooked in a messenger’s delivery. Upon opening the envelope, a few glowing shards of Sacridite await inside. Somehow, the tiny, evenly-spaced words on the parchment fill both sides of the paper entirely. The letter is written in silvery gray ink.


Dearest Mother,

I hope this letter reaches you safely. Do you remember me, Mother? I was the quiet hatchling. My sisters were far more demanding and boisterous, weren’t they? Do you feel lonely without us? I hope you are joyful at home. I left my former clan without a name, but since my arrival I have chosen the name Xuelin, after the snow-blanketed forests of my childhood. Imagining a world of ice invigorates me when I feel alone. There is an essential serenity and softness in freshly fallen snow. It muffles every sound, enveloping all in that crystalline silence. The stillness is my solace.

I admit that I miss you and my home, but I have found fresh joys in this new clan of mine. We were welcomed with open arms here. Indeed, this clan prides itself as a gathering of misfits. Everyone has their own quirks and passions, but they are all bound together by love. It really is a family here, despite there being so many unrelated dragons in this clan. The clan matriarch, Aramynta, welcomed us personally. I had never seen so much green. Green hills rose up and up and up into the distance, covered in a fine fur of green grass, with green bamboo standing sentinel on every hilltop. I was amazed by the many brilliant kites and balloons soaring overhead in the blue of the sky. How much color there was compared to the eternal whiteness of home! While the Zephyr Steppes greeted us as a halcyon haven, we had to fly farther if we were to reach our new home. As we approached the Reedcleft Ascent, the breezes became barreling blasts that nearly knocked us out of the sky. I was overwhelmed. I wanted to go back into the safety of the snow, of the rigid cold of the tundra. Everything changes in the Windswept Plateau. The dragons seem to be carried by the wind itself, always moving and finding and exploring. It was hard for me to adjust.

The dragon lair we were directed to was tunnelled out of the side of a viridian cliff. We were kept with the other hatchlings in the Hatchling Cave, taken care of by the wonderfully kind Briallan and Boiwen. We were almost entirely full-grown when we arrived, but I was grateful for the chance to curl up by myself in that cave. I was painfully shy when I arrived and I still am. I could not express what I wanted to say, nor did I really have much to say. I rejected some of the dragons’ attempts to get to know me. I was too afraid to speak, so I avoided their approach. Forgive me for my rudeness, Mother. They were nothing like the dragons at home, both in appearance and mannerisms. There is nothing wrong with them; I just needed time to become accustomed to their habits. How odd is it that in a clan of misfits I find it hard to fit in? The cheeriest and most curious of my two sisters, who has named herself Yunfan for the little clouds that race overhead to the horizon, found a place almost instantly in the clan. Her love of exploration and adventure was just the mentality of a Wind dragon. My other sister, the most dignified of us all, could scarcely handle the commonness of this clan. She named herself Chunlan, after the remote heights of the foggy crags, and pines for home every day. Like always, I find myself somewhere between them.

Eventually, one dragon teased me out of my shell. Her name is Ethelinda and she serves as this clan’s teacher, scribe, and scholar. She is a Nocturne dragon, a breed I had never even seen before in my previous clan. I feared her at first. Strict and so clearly knowledgeable, I never wanted her to so much as look at me in case I made a mistake. Us hatchlings had to learn from her during School every day until we eventually found our specific talents and pursued a particular job in the clan. She taught us how to read and write.

I remember one of our assignments, when we were instructed to write about something precious to us. I wrote about my first encounter with my Sacridite. My sister Yunfan had dragged me out of the cave to explore the Zephyr Steppes with her on one of her flower-gathering trips. A particularly powerful gale slammed into us as we flew out of the lair, sending us tumbling head-over-tails into the flatlands below. We were lucky to not fall in the water, instead crash-landing into a secluded grove of bamboo. At the center of the grove was a tiny fragment of Sacridite. It gleamed golden in the half-light. Yunfan immediately wanted to take it back to the lair with her, but I told her not to disturb it. It seemed too perfect in that tranquil sanctuary to do such a thing. Every time I was brave enough to go out, I found myself back in the little grove. Sometimes I brought a book to read with me and I would spend hours by the side of that tiny chunk of Sacridite. Eventually, I discovered that it had grown. I was fascinated by its progress. Surrounded by the wall of bamboo and with the living Sacridite by my side, that grove became my most precious spot on the Windswept Plateau. Ethelinda singled me out after class to discuss my writing with me. She praised my vivid descriptions and attention to detail, making me feel as if I were bursting with light. She told me that if I wanted to follow in her footsteps as a scribe and scholar, she could give me special training. And so, I found my voice in the written word. I love writing poetry and stories the most. I can live through my words or make my words come to life for others. Dragons can see the way I see, feel the way I feel. While I am still too shy to show you my poetry, Mother, I write every day. I go out with Yunfan and her friends for inspiration. Someday, I hope to study at the Sunbeam Ruins, learn history at Dragonhome, and perhaps even visit The Observatory. Maybe if I am brave enough.

Chunlan and I have long discussions about why we have been sent here. She acts disdainful and aloof, but I can tell she is bothered by our leave from our old clan. She imagines that we are the product of some scandalous union, a secret necessary to be hidden far away from our old clan. Of course I have my own theories, but I am not so forward as to ask you directly about your relationship with our father. Oh, I did not realize I had written so much! I apologize for how lengthy this letter has become. I get lost in my writing at times. I also apologize for how late this letter will be when I send it; I wanted to make every word perfect. I have enclosed some fragments of my piece of Sacridite. I had been afraid to hurt it, but the Sacridite had grown so tall that I thought a small fragment would not damage it too greatly. Doesn’t it glitter just so? I have never seen anything so sunny and pure in all of the Southern Icefield, though I never saw too much of my homeland as a hatchling. Though this Sacridite may not be precious in terms of monetary value or rarity, it is precious to me. It is a symbol of my hope for my future, my love for my family, and my transition to my new home. I hope that you may take these pure fragments and that they will grow in their new home. Ethelinda tells me that Sacridite grows in places where someone is making wishes. Mother, may you have something precious to love and wish for.

Always,
Xuelin