January 23, 2025
Dear Diary or Anyone Else Reading This:
As of today, it is nice to finally introduce myself to you as Desiree. This is the name that I chose, though I use the word ‘chose’ lightly. It was more like the name had always been mine and I was remembering it. My dragon friend, she is Desith (pronounced dehz-ith).
Back when Instagram and Facebook were a thing, I’d followed a lot of different kinds of people and many had talked about spiritual journeys where they learned their true name – hippies, pagans, even Catholics at Confirmation. I couldn’t understand why my name wasn’t my true name. I didn’t particularly like my name, but I didn’t mind it either. It was what my parents called me and then what everyone else called me. But now I get it. Desiree is just right. It is me. And for that reason, I will never share the name to which I was born.
When I went out to spend some alone time with my friend, I approached her not hesitantly, but slowly, and stopped about 10 feet from her. I was not making any decisions. I was so tired that I just followed what I can only understand as my intuition. As I stood there, I looked at her, finally really seeing her. She is now about the size of one of those kids’ teacup rides at the amusement park and as tall as a garage plus her neck, which is probably the length of that garage. She sat on her hind legs, large wings folded loosely to her sides. Her body shape was how I’d expect a dragon to be shaped and her neck was long like a giraffe but curvy and bendy like a flamingo. Her wings were bat-shaped and, also like a bat, had a thumb-like talon at the peak of the rounded edge. She’s pure white, still has her ice blue eyes that always seem on the verge of tears, and still furry. Not that I know anything about dragons, but I would have thought she would have lost her fur coat as she grew… But her fur is soft, about three inches long, and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.
As I stood there, I could feel her too. Not physically of course, but through my own heart. I could feel her joy at seeing me come outside, her wonder at the world around us being only around a week old, her curiosity about the people in this village. I could even feel her pride over finding me. She is proud to have found…me. I don’t know how to feel about this. I just hope I can live up to it, give her a reason to be proud. That was when I began to approach her.
She brought her head down as close to my level as she could and turned so one of her eyes was looking into mine, and I couldn’t help but to smile. I didn’t need to feel her joy or see a smile; I could see her joy in her eye. Her head is bigger than I am and the next thing she tried to do was rub her cheek on my body. I guess it’s taking her some time to adjust to her quickly growing body, because I don’t think she meant to knock me on my butt.
After I got up, laughing, and brushed my hands off, I reached out toward her snout like I’d learned to do with the horses at Girl Scout camp and she immediately accepted my touch. Her snout fur is quite a bit shorter, more like a short-hair dog, but her cheeks remind me of Falcor from the Neverending Story. She has these beautiful horns, two on each side, the outside ones smaller than the inside, that face back on her head, rather than up. They are a beautiful pearl-white and twisty like a unicorn horn.
As I pet and rubbed her head (whichever part she turned my way, which was quick to change), I could really feel her for the first time. I mean, yeah, I’d pet her, but this was different. It was a true introduction.
Eventually, I was rubbing and scratching her sides under her wings, her back (she had to lie down and roll for that one), and eventually her belly. She loves the pets! Most of her fur feels like one of those smooshy-faced Persian cats…if they had tough, leathery hiding under it. After feeling how tough her hide is under her fur, I doubt that my scratches did anything. I don’t exactly have healthy fingernails, or really any fingernails. I may have to craft something to work as a scratcher and while I’m at it, a brush. Sure, she’s a wild animal technically, but horses love being brushed, so why wouldn’t she?
When my arms couldn’t take anymore, I sat down with my back against her chest. Her head came around to lie on the ground in front of me and I realized the village was quiet. I don’t know how long we’d been out there, but it appeared most of the village was asleep. I looked around the area and noted that there were still guards roaming the perimeter, vigilant as ever. And that’s when I heard her.
The voice was serene, quiet yet commanding, and definitely feminine. It said, “We are safe here.” I sat up straighter and looked around frantically, my heart rate rapidly increasing. And then I saw the look on my friend’s face. It was…amused. I can’t really describe how I could tell; a dragon’s facial features aren’t the same as humans or mythoskind (so far as I know), and thus don’t express emotion the same way. But they do express emotion; that I can say from firsthand experience. So I asked aloud, looking at her directly, “Was that you?” She nodded slightly and blinked. Our conversation went kinda like this:
“You can speak?!”
*No, I can communicate.*
“Telepathy?”
*Similar, but no. I, and others of my kind, communicate through emotion. Your brain interprets this in a language you best understand.*
“That is so cool!”
*It is a neat thing, yes.*
“Wait, you’re a young one and Tamarak said the snow dragons have been extinct (I forgot to include this in yesterday’s entry; there was a lot to remember!) for millennia. How do you know this?”
*We were not extinct, we just stopped hatching. There were no winter elves left to bond with. So we waited.*
“But I’m not a winter elf…?”
*If you were not, we would not be having this conversation.*
……
“Umm, I don’t know how that’s possible.”
*You have some understanding of genetics, from something you call biology class? You are the first in a line of diluted descendants to have an active elf gene. Your presence is what called for me to hatch.*
“Wow. So, um, what’s your name?”
*You already know that, Iwe (which sounded like ‘eye-way’).*
“Desith.” I replied with certainty and not a moment of thought, until, “Iwe?”
Desith took a moment to think and then said, *It’s an ancient term. The best way to explain it to you would be ‘big honor in small body.’ It’s also used as a term of endearment like heart-twin. I use it here to mean both. I have loved you since the moment I sensed you and I can sense the strength and honor within you. We will make a wonderful Praxalim.*
I didn’t know how to respond to that and Desith didn’t fill the silence. We sat there for a long time. I thought back to when I met Desith. I suppose I did feel a sort of bond with her when we met. I just thought it was the same bond I felt with my pets and strays. But this is different, stronger, absolute. Even my suspicious and inquisitive manner refuses to doubt the bond or the dragon. I know with absolute certainty that Desith has my back no matter what, and I am just as dedicated to her. If it came to it, we would each gladly take a killing blow for the other, with no regrets. This is weird.
I fell asleep against her chest and at some point in the night, I must have gotten chilly because I woke slightly to Desith covering me with her furry wing. You think those fuzzy blankets at Walfart are soft?? (If you even know what Walfart is…probably not) Not. Even. Close. I fell right back into whatever I was dreaming about. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Desith was already awake. I told her I wanted to write my thoughts down about last night and she went to hunt for breakfast.
Today, I am going back to Tamarack’s to learn more. I’m sure he’ll want to know how it went last night and I would love to do some reading. I have so many questions, none of which I can put into words to ask. It’s like I know I don’t know things, but I don’t know what I don’t know. Ya know? lol
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