Awakening

She was up before any of the others. Watching the sunrise always made her catch her breath. Hugging herself in the brisk mountain air, she smiled to herself in a secretive grin so wide her eyes crinkled shut. The cool mountain air sent a tingle up her spine. Breathing deeply in delight, she let the scent of pine and lingering frost fill her up. Waiting for the morning twilight to break into dawn, she giggled to herself.

“I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt this -- alive,” she whispered. She lifted her chin, not noticing the hair that fell across her eyes. She didn’t move to brush it away, captivated by the pale sky slowly streaking into soft pastel hues. The gentle pinks and peaches brightened into rich scarlet hues, only to melt into golden butter smoothed across the clouds.

She didn’t know how long she stood there. It didn’t seem to matter. Her breath caught, misting in the air. The wind felt her breath of amazement and tugged it away, its breeze sifting her hair against her cheek as it ghosted away. Her eyes never left the sky around the rising sun.

“It's beautiful --” The wind heard her breathe. “Almost like magic.”

The breeze hugged the crystals of her frozen gasp tighter and hurried on its way, protectively chiding any curious leaf that reached for it as it skimmed by.

The girl’s friends began stirring behind her. She half-turned, the spell of her solitude broken. Her heart retained the shimmering gleam of early morning sun, even as her mind turned to breakfast and the other tasks of the day. Though she didn’t speak of it, sometimes, when her eyes caught suddenly on the blue, arching sky, she would laugh softly. A smile, small and secret, would play across her lips, and as she turned back to her task, whether her face was in shade or sun, her eyes would glow with the reflected sparkle of sunrise.

The wind danced proudly around its offering, exhausted from the trip. It had rushed to get where it was, scurrying from tree to tree in a burst of harrowing speed. As its host listened to the chattering tale it told, his bored eyes slowly brightened in an appreciative gleam. Flames licked and danced in the burning orbs, wild, yet subdued. They flared crimson in appreciation.

“And you brought it here, just for me?” he murmured. His voice was surprisingly mild. He reached out, and the wind batted his fingers away, hissing. The man bowed his head. “You are right, of course. I must see it, first.” His gaze became pleading, an odd thing to see when one’s eyes are made of fire. “Show me?”

The wind chuckled its assent. It lifted itself higher, swirling around the crystallized mist with a low, breathy hum. The girl’s breath, caught in the frozen morning air, vibrated in an echo of the peculiar song. Slowly, a picture began to form, flickering in the center of the wind’s howling pit. The man with the burning eyes arched his eyebrows in surprise.

It was the girl’s likeness, etched in the soft tones of twilight and sunrise.

Her voice slipped from the wind’s humming grasp, hanging in the air. “It’s beautiful,” she said. The vision faded. The wind slowed its humming. The crystals settled into frozen silence. The man slowly looked away, stroking his lip with the pad of his thumb.

Her words seemed to linger in the air. The man could feel his skin crackling with the remains of the wind’s magic. His brow was furrowed, deep in thought. He seemed not to hear the wind’s query until the fourth time it spoke.

“Yes,” he said at last. He reached for the breath, almost reverently. The wind dropped the crystal mist into his outstretched palm. It buzzed around the young man expectantly. He did not look at it, studying the precious thing he held; a drop of time, cupped in the palm of his hand.

He ignored the desperate whisper that he must hold it tighter, or it would slip through his fingers, as such moments always had.

“Yes,” he said aloud, voice almost a whisper. “You have brought me a thing of great worth.” He looked up at last, mouth quirking in an almost-smile. “That should merit some reward. Go, little wind. Skim amongst the trees. For this, you shall never die out, simply pass from one place to another. The world is yours to explore.” There was a pang as he forced the last sentence out. He lowered his eyes to the breath clutched in his palm. The wind, having obtained what it came for, zipped happily away.

He stared at the gift, no more than a breath, so fragile, so easily lost. The girl’s voice echoed in his mind. “Its beautiful,” he whispered. He curled his fingers closed about it, careful not to crush it. For the first time in countless ages, his fiery eyes slipped to look at the entrance to his dwelling. The bars across it made him shudder, pain flaring through him just at the sight of them. He dropped his burning gaze.

“Almost like…” His questioning hand found his pounding heart. He rested his astonished palm atop his skin, disbelieving what he felt. “Almost like being alive again,” he said softly.

For the first time in centuries, his lips softened into the glimmer of a smile.