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Snow Angels

By Evan Drake

© 2020, Evan Drake, All Rights Reserved

"Grandpa, you made it!" Nevana cried as she weaved through the crowd in a blur of rust-colored scales. Despite her youth, she was already a head taller than the rest of the crowd. The other Tirandi parted to make a clear path for the energetic adult.

She nearly bowled Slynthus over when she rushed into him. It was more surprising than anything as even ten years ago, she wouldn't have made him flinch. "Whoa, there! I'm not as young as I used to be."

There was a sentence he never thought he would say. Living to old age wasn't something he planned for. His entire life had been spent as a warrior, and he had expected to die a warrior's death. Now, despite his constant exercising, his body had lost much of its muscle and became thin. Compared to his youth, he looked downright sickly. The battle scars he once wore proudly made him appear to be on the verge of death. His once lustrous green scales had lost so much color he appeared pasty as if he spent too much time indoors. He rubbed his muzzle which had begun to sag and taken on a wrinkled look.

Nevana chuckled. "Sorry, Grandpa. I'm just so happy to see you again."

"Hey, I can still get around pretty well on my own, you know." He smiled warmly at her. "Even if I couldn't, you really think I would miss my favorite granddaughter's wedding?"

"I'm your only granddaughter."

"And you're still the favorite."

Before she could reply, she was called away to take more pictures. Slynthys watched her depart, a wide smile on her face.

It had been far too long since he had heard her laugh or seen her happy. It had been too long since anyone had been happy. For nearly ten years, the beast roamed unchallenged, slaughtering with wild abandon. Cities were destroyed, timeless records and artifacts were lost. Resources had been drained to an all-time low. Starvation and in-fighting became a bigger threat than the monster concerned with their extermination.

Many warriors gathered to try and defeat the beast, but none succeeded. Many had begun to believe it was a fool's errand and soon, the volunteering stopped. Like him, the few warriors remaining wanted to spend their final moments with their families.

Finally, a small band of warriors gathered and made one final stand. It was Mavek who rallied a group of like-minded Tirandi to make one last try at stopping the monster. They suffered heavy casualties, Mavek being one of them, but in the end, they succeeded. Slynthus still remembered the roar of triumph that shook the world when they returned with the news.

That was five years ago. Now the world was on the mend. There was still extensive damage to be repaired and the scars left behind may never heal, but the Tirandi would live on. He turned away from Nevana's happy smiling face and went outside.

The twin moons shone brightly amongst the twinkling canvas, filling him with a sense of ease. The cold night breeze blew as if urging him to go back inside, but he would not be dissuaded. He wanted time alone to process the mixed feelings of relief, pride, and guilt welling within.

His grandson would forever be remembered as one of the greatest heroes in history. And yet, it wasn't the life he wanted for him. He wanted Mavek to live his life, find someone special, and settle down.

It wouldn't have happened if he had faced the beast as he wanted to do before. If he hadn't run away like a coward. Instead, he hid like those he despised and waited for someone else to do the deed. It wasn't how he did things. Now for his cowardice, his grandson paid the ultimate price. Nevana would never say it, but it was clear in her amber eyes she wished her brother was there.

He had his health at least. He would live for quite some time. Hopefully long enough to see his granddaughter have hatchlings of her own. One of the few things he suspected he should be happy about.

"It should have been me," he mumbled.

"So you say," Myrial said.

He sighed and continued to stare up at the night sky as his daughter-in-law approach and stand next to him. While twenty years his junior, her green scales had begun to take on the washed-out appearance that came with old age. She had always been thin, but she had gotten even thinner during the food shortage.

"I lived my life," Slynthus said. "My time is over. But Mavek--"

"Would've been devastated if he had gotten his grandfather killed. You beat yourself up, but let's face it: that thing would've killed you."

Slynthus said nothing. If it gave her comfort knowing her son saved their family, he had no right to tell her she was wrong.

It seemed Myrial wasn't ready to end the conversation. "When you first came home, covered in blood and bruises, I was happy. Even when you said you failed to kill the beast, I didn't care. I was just glad to see you again."

"Myrial--"

"You've given enough, Slynthus. Even Mavek knew that. Why do you think he didn't ask you to join him?"

Slynthus turned to her. He always assumed Mavek knew he would try to stop him and that was why he wasn't told. "You knew?"

"Yes, I did," she replied, her voice breaking slightly. "And as painful as it was, I don't regret it. Because he was a lot like you. He would never have forgiven himself letting someone else protect what he loved."

"Myrial, I had no idea."

"I know you didn't. So, please, stop blaming yourself. Make the most of this chance."

He smiled at her. "Thank you for telling me."

She smiled back and shivered when the breeze blew. "Oh! It's chilly out here! I'm going to head inside now. You make sure not to stay out here too long."

He was getting cold as well, but he wanted to lay there a little to reflect on what Myrial had said.

"It will take time, Mavek," he muttered. "I'm sorry you had to pay sigh a high price so I could have this moment, but I swear I will make the most of it."

Nevana appeared in the doorway. "Grandpa, there you are! Come on, it's time for pictures."

Slynthus smiled again. "I'll be right there."