Author's Note: Apologies for the wait. I hope the joy and fun in this chapter makes up for the lateness, and the sadness in the last one.

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Dayton, United States of America, 1968

Unexpectedly, a flurry threw Dracawanri off-course and tossed her into a growing pile of snow. "Oof!" She shook her head, spitting out a mouthful as she tried to get her bearings again. "Well, that was fun." Snorting, she picked herself off the ground and dusted off her cloak before glancing around the city. People were busy running for shelter from the sudden blizzard, and she couldn't help the delight she took as they scurried to cover. Giggling, she skipped up to a stop sign and spun around it, shouting, "I'm siiiiinging in the snow… I'm siiiiinging in the snow! What a glorious feeeeeling and I don't knooooow where to go!"

She laughed at her adaptation, and then laughed harder when another gust of wind knocked her off her feet. "Woohoo! Wow, Jack Frost is really pushing me around today." Jumping up once more, she twirled around with her cloak spinning around her, making a good impression of a top until she finally became dizzy and fell down again. "Ah! Go easy on me, Mr. Frost! I'm just a little girl!"

She took a moment to make a snow angel in the middle of the sidewalk, sticking her tongue out to catch another mouthful of snow. After rolling on her side and spitting it out, she crouched down beside her creation and watched the blizzard swiftly fill it in. "Aw, that's no fun!" Glancing around at the neighborhood before remembering that she was essentially invisible to people, she held out her hands and concentrated on the green smoke that slowly seeped from her fingertips. Fashioning the snow with careful motions, she finally smiled at the little rabbit she had made from it—with two little pebbles for eyes. "There we go!"

It was a small tribute for the Easter Sunday this blizzard was interrupting, and she let it run free as she shouted to the city, "Enjoy your Easter, everyone! Have some snowball fights during your egg hunts!" Laughing and spinning, she was buffeted into an alley and collapsed against a wall, unable to stand straight as she wheezed. "Oh, man, I can't… wait to see someone… find that rabbit!"

The last time she had sent one of her more substantial creations out to explore, it had startled a daycare when it had cleared the fence in a single bound and raced up the slide on the playground. Then again, people didn't normally see live dinosaurs nowadays. It was a shame her creatures didn't last that long; she could have extended the mischief otherwise.

The wind was too rough for her to glide on, so she decided to walk around as the visibility dropped further with the darkening sky. She did a cartwheel in front of a window that two kids were staring out of to watch the snowstorm, but of course they didn't notice her. She mentally shrugged and began whistling, rather cheerful in such violent weather.

On her way through the blizzard, the rabbit returned and twitched a snowy ear at her just before crumbling into a pile. She smiled, smoothing it back into the snow with her foot in respect for its service before continuing to explore her white surroundings. She raised her arm and squinted into the distance, but she could barely see a thing. "Hey!" She shouted into the wind. "Can you be a bit gentler, please? Can't hear myself think!"

After a while of pointless drifting, she was finally able to hear the laughter of families as the blizzard died down. Everyone had been snowed in, but that didn't stop people from enjoying their holiday as they colored eggs and ate delicious feasts indoors. Trapped with family and friends by several feet of snow, it was a rather effective way to force everyone in close quarters with each other. Draca congratulated the blizzard on a job well done. "Although, I don't think Herr Osterhase is very happy about that. But at least they're having fun, right?"

Holding out her hand and summoning a small flame, she stared at its center as she thought of the magic burning through her veins. "We'll have our own Easter celebration, Feninor," she told her palm, as if it was the missing link between her and the faded dragon. "I'll make an igloo and dye some snowballs to color people's houses with. Like giant Easter eggs!" She giggled as she smothered the flame, twirling a few steps before stumbling with a laugh.

"I bet Katrina is painting eggs with her little boy. He's—what, three-years-old? Six? Something like that." Casually placing her arms over and behind her head, Draca looked up at the overcast sky as she wondered what her sister was up to these days. "Maybe she has another kid. I should probably stop by every so often to check on them." She had just been so distracted by her world tour that she had forgotten the changing of seasons signified time passing by at an alarming rate.

A passing thought made her halt in her tracks, arms coming down to fiddle with her cloak as her gaze focused on some point in the distance. ". . . hm." Shuffling her feet with her tail twitching erratically, she was completely absorbed in her contemplation as night began to fall. "That… could work, if I… just need to figure out the distance, and the…" She took a seat right there in the snow, cross-legged as she put her chin in her palm. "Hm. I'll have to fiddle with it, to make sure it works."

With a new project in mind, she peered at the snow fluttering gently down from the heavens. "I should get to work immediately." Returning to her feet for the fourth time, she saluted the sky in mock-military fashion. "Dismissed! Aye, aye, sir!" A toothy grin ruined her façade, and she guffawed as she pelted down the street at full-sprint. "You've got mail, sister dearest!"

Sure enough, Katrina received a cheesy postcard sometime later that week. Glancing at the "wish you were in Ohio" on the front, she flipped it around and nearly dropped it in surprise. Eyes watering at the short message, she wiped her eyes and showed it to her son—who was seven-years-old, thank you very much. "Look, Erryn," she poked at his pudgy stomach, "your auntie says hello!"

"She did?" Reaching for the postcard, he smiled at the doodles of dragons and winged horses on the corners. "Wow!" He squinted at the words before asking his mother, "Mom, what's "Drah-kuh-won-ray"?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to understand what he was talking about before he handed her the card. Reading what he spoke of, she gave a thoughtful "huh." Looking at his expectant face, she smiled and simply told him, "It's her adventuring name."

"Really? Cool!" He bounced on his feet, asking excitedly, "Can I have an adventuring name? Do you have an adventuring name?"

Her laughter was like a wind chime: Gentle and bright. "Of course you can, sweetie. While you're at it, you can think of a name for me." His cheering convinced her to carry him through the house, and his shrieks of protest only made her laugh harder.

Casablanca, Morocco, 1975

The waters of this large port city were like onyx at night; Dracawanri's imagination flowed as she thought of the dark creatures that could hide beneath the waves. Deciding there weren't enough, she began rapidly twisting her hands, dispelling and reworking the green smoke as her tongue poked out of her mouth in her concentration. Her head tilted to the side, and she spun the image as she gave a pensive, "Huh." It was only after she replaced the eyes with stalks that she was satisfied with her fish-mantis hybrid. "Perfect!"

With a flick of her wrist, the creature was writhing in the air before her, and she grinned before nudging it into the water. Its gaping mouth had additional pincers for gruesome effect, and its fins were like jagged arrowheads. She watched it sink beneath the surface like paint, and ripples traveled between boats as it searched for victims. It couldn't actually hurt anyone, of course—but she felt like giving the fishermen a couple of scares tonight.

Cackling at the moon, she snapped out her cloak and glided over to a yacht so she could peer over the edge at her creation. "Come on!" She gestured pointedly at a man securing ropes on the dock, and it thankfully followed her lead as it sunk back down and made its way over. Draca stuffed her mouth with her fist to unnecessarily muffle a giggle—no one could hear her—but she finally lost the battle when the creature leapt from the water and snapped just inches away from the man's arm. He gave a shout and became unbalanced, plunging into the water with a yelp.

She doubled over and wheezed as the man scrambled out of the drink, clutching the rope like a lifeline as he dragged himself onto the wooden planks with loud gasps. As her creation melted into a spit of green ink, she leaned against the side of the yacht and continued to laugh at the man's reaction. "Oh, if only he knew what he looked like just then!"

Many minutes passed before she was able to wipe the last of the happy tears from her eyes, and by then the man had gone for the safety of dry land. Now left with nothing to do, she sat down and dangled her feet over the edge as if tempting sea monsters to have a nibble. She conjured the blueprint for the fish-mantis again, chin in her palm as she twirled it around in boredom. "Maybe spines?" She speculated aloud, working to make it as strange and terrifying as possible. "Ooh, or maybe glowing red eyes… two pairs of them!"

She was distracted from her plotting by something bright in the corner of her eye, but she glanced around only to find the night as dark as ever. Frowning, she looked down at her lap but kept her attention on her peripherals, trying to catch the thing in the act. When she was certain she had seen something, she snapped her head up and watched with wide eyes as a golden streak shot over her towards the twinkling city lights.

"Whoa." She had seen many strange things, but this was something new. Jumping to her feet and leaping onto the docks, her shoes pounded on the wooden planks as she chased after the light. "Wait, hold up!"

It gave her a good chase around the city, and she gave a frustrated growl when she lost track of it. She saw another streak of gold, and she took off once more only to find it zoom into a window on the second story. It took some maneuvering and nearly losing her footing several times before she could finally enter the same window, and she looked around at the kid's room filled with posters of comic book heroes. "Cute," she teased the sleeping figure before approaching the bed.

There was nothing else of interest in the room; she even checked under the bed and found it empty of monsters. Frowning and leaning over the kid, she watched his face soften into a smile as he dreamed merrily. "Glad you're having fun," she muttered, but then she noticed something faint over his head. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, focusing as hard as she could on the thing hiding in plain sight. Her magic flared quietly—and then she could see it bright as day.

Golden matter danced around the boy's head, showing a figure riding a tyrannosaurus rex in circles. Amazed, she leaned forward, not expecting the figure to turn and raise a sword in challenge at her face. Soon an army of dinosaur warriors were charging towards her, and she stumbled backwards and into a dresser as they swirled around her head. "Stop it!" Swatting at them like flies dissipated the forms, and then the stuff was frolicking above his head again like nothing had happened.

"Huh. Odd." She liked it.

Now that her magic had "opened her eyes," Draca looked out the window to see several streaks of golden comets slipping into bedrooms. The sight was glorious, and she leaned against the windowsill to watch the sky light up with curling strands. It kept her quiet for most of the night, and when she found the dawn creeping in to interrupt the show she perched on the edge as she grasped the frame for support. "Hey, wait up!" Snapping out her cloak, she chased after the lights, but it wasn't long before she lost them as they slipped across the ocean waters. Squinting at the sunrise, she spied sailors boarding a ship in the early morning and decided she'd need a little assistance with her mission on finding the source of those pretty lights.

Aracaju, Brazil, 1975

The boat ride provided Dracawanri with plenty of time to experiment with her magic. She was always finding new ways to use it to embody her imagination, and a rather unexpected discovery made her so excited that she managed to knock over some crates with her victory dance. The sailors weren't entirely sure what it was, and she retreated to a corner to watch giddily as they rearranged their cargo.

After they returned to their posts, her tail lashed with barely contained energy as she cupped her hands together and concentrated once more. A passing thought had made her want to test her theory, mind focusing on one point in particular as she shut her eyes. She felt a trickle of hot magic climbing through her veins and to her hand, and with the tinkling of wind chimes a transformation like the one in Feninor's den swept over her skin. Her eyes shot open and she grinned as she realized she had managed to change her pinky, ring and middle fingers into scaly claws this time, the bright green matching her tail. With a whoop and a holler, she watched the magic fizzle out of existence and her fingers returned to their original form.

"That was amazing!" Laughter uninhibited by the presence of others, her voice rang loud and clear for any non-human creature to overhear. "Can I do more? I should practice! Feninor, you should have seen—"

By the time the ship had docked in a port across the Atlantic Ocean, Draca had managed to get one more finger to change. (Strangely enough, it was her thumb, and she wondered why the effect had skipped her pointer finger.) Gliding over the docks on the cool ocean breeze, she had almost forgotten her original intentions for coming here before she saw the darkening sky. Remembering what she had witnessed on the African continent, her mouth twitched into an eager grin. "Oh, yeah! Detective Dracawanri and the case of the golden comets!"

Waiting for nightfall was an exercise in patience, but she was able to entertain herself with more practice. Her pointer finger was proving difficult, and she couldn't get her other hand to change simultaneously without losing control of the first. When the sky was finally brushed with golden trails, she was mildly frustrated and decided to take a breather as she stood up on the edge of a roof.

"Hey! You!" She wasn't entirely sure how to address the strange things, so she settled on pointing at them as she asked, "What are you? Are you a person, or something?" She wondered if other powerful creatures had given people magic; she was a bit put out at the idea that she wasn't unique in that regard.

One of the comets turned sharply and made its way towards her, and she braced herself only to find that it circled around her head like a halo. Raising a hand instinctively, she gasped as it trailed through her fingers, the feeling of sand softly scratching at her skin. She shook off the lingering particles as she muttered, "That's weird…" Sand didn't normally fly around and circle people's heads. Her curiosity was peaked.

It retreated out of sight, so Draca gripped the edge of the roof to swing her body through the open window it had fled into. Finding another child's bedroom with a sleeping kid curled up beneath a comforter, she crept up to find the gold now swirling around his head. Slowly, it morphed into a spaceship, and it flew through a golden solar system as she watched in amazement. "Wow," she whispered, quiet despite her invisibility. "So, you give dreams?"

She remembered many of her dreams from when she was a child; they had always been filled with fantastic creatures, some she had read about hours before and others she had made up herself. Some were rather frightening back then, but staring at this bright substance made her believe it wasn't looking to harm anyone. Sensing a pattern, she cocked her head and inquired, "Do you give children dreams?"

A wisp of the sand became a dragon's face, giving her an exaggerated nod before melting out of existence and joining the rest over the child's head. Intrigued, she crossed her legs and sat on the floor, watching the dream from an outsider's perspective as it flowed through the subconscious of the imaginative child. Her mind wandered a bit when there was a lull in the action, so she wasn't aware enough to register the darkness creeping around the shadows of the room. It was only when the kid gave a soft whimper that she snapped out of her thoughts, and she furrowed her eyebrows as the golden sand dissipated into falling sparks.

"What the…"

Being familiar with the strange and bizarre, she didn't dismiss the sight of shadows lengthening around her as a trick of the light. Slowly getting to her feet, she searched for the golden comet to no avail. It had disappeared. Leaning over the bed, she felt a trickle of fear as her shadow engulfed the child's face.

Quickly backpedaling until she hit the windowsill, she stared at the bed, her mind churning with ideas and theories. Despite the dangerous aura she had gotten a glimpse of, she was still curious. The moonlight burned against her back as she watched the kid experience what looked like a nightmare. The only way she could tell was the way he thrashed in his sleep, but it didn't look like he had brought it upon himself.

For the first time since she had left Feninor's cave, she wondered what other sorts of magic there was left in the world.

She took one last glance at the child before deciding that a bad dream wouldn't hurt him, and then she was gliding across the city with the intention of tracking down another comet. If she could find its source, maybe she could ask it about both its powers and other beings like it. She hadn't met any on her journey before, but she had a feeling that she hadn't been ready. Now, with her heart burning with magic and her mind burning with questions, she felt that her imagination was toeing the tripwire to a landmine of discovery.

She couldn't wait.

San Salvador, Republic of El Salvador, 1977

Finally, Dracawanri decided that in order to catch this traveling giver of dreams—or whatever had forced that child into a nightmare—she had to sit and wait for nighttime to swing around the globe once more. It was easier than trying to glide on dwindling air currents after the golden sand, as she didn't have the capability to actually fly. She spent the day practicing her transformations again, finally able to transform both sets of fingers simultaneously. Her pointer finger had been an issue for a while, but now she had her sights set on morphing the rest of her palms to match the claws. Starting small was the only way to avoid her frustration for not being able to control Feninor's gift.

She had retreated to an alcove on a skyscraper, crouching beside a window as she worked. Looking at the golden light reflected off of her tail reminded her of her mission, and she looked towards the setting sun with disdain. "Just go down already," she hissed at the horizon, orange and pink coating the clouds like paint. She was tired of waiting; she wanted to see what skirted on the edges of her imagination.

When she finally couldn't see the orb of light, her cloak swelled to catch the last warm breeze of day so she could swing around to the other side of the building. The night nipped at the heels of the sun, always creeping in from the east as it set in the west. That was the direction any creature of the night would come from. With this vantage point secured, she sat with the lingering vestiges of her patience. She did not take constant failure humbly.

At first, she thought that day was approaching far earlier than it should be, and she wiped her eyes to dispel the mirage of light floating towards San Salvador. But it didn't disappear, and she watched as it edged closer and closer to the city, lightly touching the tops of skyscrapers. She leaned perilously over the edge to get a closer look, recognizing the trails of golden dust that shot from the large hub in the sky. She stood up—nearly falling in her haste—and frantically waved her arms to get its attention.

"Hey!" She bounced on the heels of her feet, screaming, "Heyyyy! Down here!"

When it didn't slow or change direction to show it had heard her, she gave a soft tch before spreading her cloak out to sail across the street. She concentrated as hard as she could until her fingers were once again claws, and she used them for a sturdier grip as she scaled the building as swiftly as possible. By the time she had reached the rooftop, the cloud was passing just overhead, and she reached up to snatch a handful of sand as she shouted once more, "Hey!"

Sand drifted down in a spiral around her, whipping up her clothing and agitating her skin, and then a portal opened in the center as something descended a spiral staircase.

As she marveled over the versatility of the sand, she looked down and found herself staring at a rather short, portly man completely golden in complexion and fashion. It wasn't until she crouched down and tilted forward to stare straight into his face that she realized it was because he was made of the golden sand.

The man leaned back, startled by her closeness, as she exclaimed, "Wow! That's incredible!" Bouncing on her heels as if she was ready to pounce, she gave a feline grin as she dusted the sand off of her fingers and onto his head. "You're all sandy!" When it finally clicked, she smacked her forehead so hard that the sound echoed across the city. "Oh, duh! The Sandman! Why didn't I get that before?"

A smile spread across his face at her realization, and he gave her a thumbs-up in encouragement before gesturing at the city around him. It took her a moment to understand that he didn't speak, and so she watched closely to try to discern his meaning. "You… have a lot to do?" It made sense, considering the fact he had to go to each time zone and get children to sleep.

He shook his head—then amended it with a dismissive shrug—and he held his palms together and summoned a little ball of sand. It danced across his fingers as he looked expectantly at her, and when she still didn't get it he gestured at her and held the ball above his other hand. The pose was reminiscent of what she would do with the occasional flame, and that was what helped her understand what he was trying to ask her.

"Oh! Yes, I—I can do stuff, too." Not knowing entirely how to explain it, she simply conjured some green smoke, letting it swirl lazily as it formed the occasional creature from fantasy and fact. It seemed this jogged his memory, as his expression brightened before the image of a mountain range materialized over his head. "Yes, I used to live in a valley! How did you know that?"

He held out his arms, as if to say "I'm the Sandman" as his answer. It made sense; she knew that her imagination hadn't all come from her head. She had had a little help from him in her dreams, it seemed.

But if that was true, then— "Do you only give good dreams?" At his puzzled frown, she elaborated, "Happy ones? With cute things and dinosaurs and stuff?" He nodded, looking rather worried by her question. "Then, does someone else give the bad ones?"

Another nod, and he summoned the shape of a man that was tall, thin, and surrounded by creatures of frightening proportions. Of course, this fascinated Draca more than it scared her, and she leaned closer with a coo of awe before she suggested, "So you guys are mortal enemies, huh?" He confirmed it. "That's too bad. Both of you have great ideas."

At his bewildered expression, she laughed and stood up, twirling around fast enough to whip up some of his sand. "You guys give such weird dreams! I mean, once I dreamed about this gigantic flying scorpion, and although it scared me, when I woke up, I couldn't stop thinking about it! And you," she pointed at him, tail swinging around to slap her arm from the sudden stop, "I remember the dream about dolphins in space—did you know I painted that for my art class? Of course you did," she dismissed her question just as he raised a finger, "you gave me the idea. Silly question.

"But, yeah! All of those dreams had so many crazy creatures in them, and it made me want to see more!" She crouched down again, realizing that she didn't like towering over the being who had inspired her so many years ago—well, one of the beings. "I can create stuff now," she told him with quiet giddy. "They don't last very long because my magic isn't strong enough, but I can make those things you showed me."

He seemed to appreciate her enthusiasm, giving her another thumbs-up before he glanced at the golden sand above them. No doubt he was on a tight schedule, and she felt bad for stopping such important work. But her spirits brightened when he waved her over as he started back up the spiraling sand, inviting her aboard his dream headquarters. She couldn't contain her squeal.

"Really? You mean it? For real?" She shrieked and dashed up the stairs, cloak lashing behind her, her tail nearly slapping the Sandman in the face as she overtook him. "Oh my gosh, it's like a flying island! Made of sand! No way!" She danced across the sand, laughing and twirling with wild abandon. "This is amazing! I'm so jealous that you have a flying house!" He looked thoroughly amused.

Sitting cross-legged on his floating island, Draca quietly enjoyed the ride as he set his course for North America. His island moved fast, covering ground that would've taken days for her to travel; she peeked over the edge and marveled at the land sliding below them as if someone was tugging a cloth from a dinner table. His sand trailed down to coat the towns and cities in peaceful slumber, and she appreciated the tranquility of a good night's sleep even though it had been years since she had closed her eyes for longer than a blink. Feninor hadn't said that oddities couldn't be found in calm waters.

She looked up at the man orchestrating this dazzling feat. The magnitude of his power showed in the easygoing demeanor he embodied, casually twirling his fingers to send little streaks of gold off to coax the children to sleep. The Sandman was warm and generous and unperturbed by anything. He seemed to know that, in time, all things sorted themselves out.

A small hum captured his attention, and he turned to glance over his shoulder at the girl now lying on her back to face the stars. "Herr Sandmann," she inquired politely with a turn of her head, "may I please have a dream? For old time's sake?"

She barely saw his smile before a ball of sand flew at her, but instead of an uncomfortable sting, she felt a serene urge to close her eyes and exhale. Soon, she was asleep, dreaming of old friends and new ones as they flew over the Pacific Ocean towards more children awaiting a night of bliss.

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-Dragon