Snowy stood on the roof of his dormitory, gazing out at the horizon as storm clouds gathered, casting shadows over the academy. He felt it deep in his bones—a growing sense of dread, like the air before a storm, thick with the weight of something inevitable. The Shadow Dragon had claimed the final essence: Thunder. Snowy clenched his fists, his breath slow and deliberate. There was no time to waste.
Inside, the Pyrothraxis child lay curled in the corner of his room, still trembling from its journey through the vortex. Its scales shimmered faintly, devoid of the fire it once wielded. Snowy watched it with a mixture of pity and helplessness. Comforting others wasn't his strength; the awkwardness of it settled heavily in his gut.
Snowy took a tentative step closer, trying his best to seem non-threatening. "Hey, little guy… uh, you okay?" His voice came out stilted, and the dragon child recoiled slightly, eyes wide with fear.
Snowy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. **Great, now I'm scaring dragons too.** He reached out, but the dragon flinched, pulling back as if expecting a blow. Snowy froze, feeling the sting of his own incompetence. He had faced off against monsters, villains, and shadowy threats, but the simple act of kindness seemed beyond him.
The door rattled with a knock, jolting both him and the dragon. Snowy tensed, recognizing Emily's voice through the door. "Snowy, are you in there? I heard a noise earlier—are you alright?"
Snowy scrambled to hide the dragon, shoving it behind his desk just as Emily entered. He plastered on a casual smile, trying to keep his voice steady. "Uh, yeah, I tripped trying to get out of bed. No big deal."
Emily's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering beneath her polite demeanor. She scanned the room, noting the hastily repaired ceiling and the disarray of his belongings. Snowy shifted uncomfortably, feeling her gaze linger on him. She didn't push further, but the tension was palpable. "Okay… just checking. You didn't show up for class today."
Snowy exhaled, relieved she didn't press the issue. "Yeah, just… not feeling it today." Emily nodded, though her eyes lingered a moment longer before she left.
Snowy turned back to the Pyrothraxis child, who had timidly poked its head out. "What am I gonna do with you?" he muttered, as if expecting the dragon to have an answer. He rummaged through his mini-fridge, pulling out a fish. He considered cooking it but shrugged, remembering the dragon's wild nature.
He cooked it anyway, watching the dragon's nose twitch at the aroma. It devoured the fish with surprising eagerness, a small spark of life flickering back into its dull eyes. Snowy chuckled, cooking more as the dragon eagerly ate each offering. The makeshift meal lasted an hour, leaving Snowy's hands aching from the repetitive motion.
For the first time, the dragon approached Snowy, nudging a leftover fish towards him. Snowy blinked in surprise, accepting the peace offering. "So, you do have some manners," he mumbled, patting its head. The dragon leaned into the touch, purring softly.
---
The sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the academy grounds. Inside the classroom, Snowy's absence was conspicuous; his desk, usually cluttered with notes and half-baked ideas, was starkly empty. Emily glanced at it repeatedly, her mind wandering back to the sounds she'd heard earlier. Snowy's vague answers hadn't satisfied her, and her unease grew with every passing minute.
Back in his room, Snowy was still fixing the ceiling when he heard another knock. He groaned, pulling off his headphones, and hopped down from the stool. **Can't catch a break, huh?**
Emily stood at the door, her expression a mix of concern and annoyance. "You missed every class. What's going on?"
Snowy hesitated, trying to formulate a believable excuse. "I, uh… just needed some time. Personal stuff."
Emily wasn't buying it. She brushed past him, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on the closet. From within, faint, almost melodic humming drifted out—a sound so gentle, it was almost endearing. Emily's curiosity piqued, and without hesitation, she flung the closet door open.
The Pyrothraxis child blinked up at her, its red eyes wide and innocent. Emily's stern expression softened instantly. "How… how do you have this in your room?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe and disbelief.
Snowy rubbed his temples, feeling the headache coming on. "It sort of… crashed in. Through the roof. I've been, uh, trying to keep it hidden."
Emily crouched, meeting the dragon's eyes. It let out a soft coo, nuzzling her hand, and Snowy watched, a mix of relief and frustration on his face. "It's… cute," she admitted, stroking its head.
"Yeah, well, it's also a lot of work," Snowy sighed. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."
Emily looked up, her eyes sparkling with newfound determination. "Your secret's safe. But if you think I'm leaving this little guy alone, you're crazy."
Snowy chuckled, feeling a rare moment of camaraderie. "Fine. But since you're so eager to help, mind fixing that hole up there?" He pointed to the damaged ceiling, the makeshift repairs still half-done.
Emily glanced at it, then back at Snowy, smirking. "Yeah, no. I've got better things to do than play handyman. Besides, a guy like you should be able to handle a bit of DIY."
Snowy groaned as Emily returned to fawning over the dragon. He climbed back onto his stool, hammer in hand, and resumed his tedious work. The dragon's soft purring filled the room, and Emily's laughter echoed faintly. Despite the looming threats and his own burdens, in this quiet, absurd moment, Snowy couldn't help but smile.
---
Snowy's thoughts drifted as he worked, the repetitive motions giving him time to think about the war ahead. The Shadow Dragon was closer than ever to breaching their world, and Snowy knew that this was only the beginning. The battle to protect his realm would test him in ways he'd never imagined, and the stakes had never been higher.
But for now, with the dragon child safe and Emily's trust tenuously secured, Snowy allowed himself this brief respite. Tomorrow, the storm would break. But tonight, amidst the lingering scent of cooked fish and the soft glow of twilight, he found solace in the smallest of victories.