Some time ago, a young woman took the long way home. Her path led her down a wide, empty road which gave way to a forest. The trees on the outer edge of the forest were bright with sunlight and she happily traveled on, failing to notice the darkness that followed in the heart of the branches.

When the road was long behind her and the light had faded a bit more before her, she heard a rustling in the trees beside her. She stopped and peered into the leaves littering the ground, until a small, sharp-pointed tail emerged. A little dragon followed it and struggled to free itself from the twigs that had caught it, and it finally toppled out into the path, delicate wings fluttering, bits of smoke escaping its sooty lips. Ten curling feathers the color of moonlight sprouted from the top of its armored head. The tiny beast looked up at the young woman, eyes like reflecting pools, and smiled.

“You are the first creature I’ve seen, and I am to follow you,” it said.

The young woman considered this a moment and knelt down to the beast, allowing it to climb onto her hand.

“You may ride on my shoulder if you wish,” she said, and the dragon settled where it would not fall.

And the two traveled safely on through the forest while the light continued to dim.

By the time they had reached another road and the trees had receded far into the distance, night was upon them.

“Now that we have left the forest behind, I have something to ask of you,” the dragon said from the young woman’s shoulder.

“And what is that?” she asked.

“I am to ask if you would like to live forever.”

“Why of course,” the young woman replied without pause. “Who on the earth would refuse such a wonder?” The dragon nodded and one of its soft moonlight feathers fell from its crown.

“Take the feather and you shall bear the life of a dragon,” it said. The young woman plucked the gift from the air and inspected it carefully.

“I shall live forever?”

“The life of a dragon will be yours.”

The young woman placed the feather in her pocket and continued on.

Soon, the pair reached the edge of a small city. The young woman followed the familiar streets she had grown up on until she came to the step of a comfortable if modest home. She opened the door and stepped inside, finding her mother and her father seated at a long table in the kitchen. They welcomed her and smiled widely at her return, for she had been gone quite a long time and they had begun to worry. She was fine, she assured them, more than fine, but she did not show them the small dragon or its feather and they did not ask about it.

They ate food and they laughed and they appeared to be happy. The young woman stayed with her mother and father a great while, the dragon all the time perched at the window of her bedroom and the dragon-feather tucked safely in her pocket. She was forever joyful for her trinket of safety, the life of a dragon secured by her side, yet as the years went by and she left her parent’s home for one of her own, she noticed that her eyes grew tired and her hair lost its shine. She found someone whom she loved greatly and who loved her, and together they grew old, day by day and year by year. And though she kept the dragon-feather with her always, it became clear that the young woman would soon die.

“Dragon,” she said to the small creature perched on her windowsill. “Why have you lied to me? You told me I would live forever, but I am dying now and always.”

“I have not lied,” the dragon said. “I told you you would have the life of a dragon, nothing more and nothing less.” And the young woman died and the dragon flew from the window on wavering, delicate wings.