Home was far behind her as she traveled the frozen road, her sights set on the distant city of Avalar. Though she could see the skyline, her feet reminded her just how far away she was from her destination. A cold wind tugged at her flesh, and she wrapped her wings around herself, hoping to conserve body heat. She adjusted her scarf, pulling it over her mouth, heating the fabric with her very breath. Snow fell from the darkening heavens above, landing softly on her hair, and lacing the ground below her. Ice shattered like glass under her graceful steps.
It was times like then that Coriander wished that she had taken after her father more. She wished that she didn't have a human body, and prayed that she could be a grand, unflinching reptile like her unknown father. Yet, hoping for a change of physique was futile. Nothing could change the scrawny, half human girl from what she was.
Her boots were saturated with the remnants of slush which she had been forced to pass through. Her coat was delicate and tattered, and her pants were wearing thin. Her ears had gone numb, which was far better than the agony they were in only an hour before hand.
She began to wonder how much time she had wasted wandering along the desolate pathway. The sun was low in the sky, and night was falling upon her quickly. The blanket of shadows would soon envelope her, and she was sure that she would be lost if guided only by the light of the stars. Still, she was well aware that there was no sanctuary within the woods. The only way she could find true safety was to make it to the heart of the city.
The bag was encumbering. She shifted her shoulders in discomfort.
It was then that she noticed the smell of gingerbread cookies filling the air. Her stomach roared, pleading to be fed. As if by instinct, she followed the aroma to a small cabin along the edge of the trail. Mustering up as much courage as she could, she knocked upon the cedar door. Within a matter of seconds, an elderly woman came shuffling to the door. She looked up at Coriander with a vacant expression, and a blue film clouded her eyes.
"Hello…" Coriander managed.
"Oh, hello child." When the elderly woman smiled, Coriander almost saw a look of youth strike the wrinkled stranger's face.
"I was wondering if I might come in and rest for a little. It's rather cold." Coriander pulled her wings tighter around herself, sniffling.
"Of course, of course. It's a rather cold night for somebody as young as you to be out on your own, you know. Come in. You can sit right in the den. There's a fire going, and I'll go get you some tea." The unusual woman shuffled off into the recesses of her house.
Coriander entered, baffled by the hospitality that had been given to her.
The living room was heated by a small fire, which cackled as it devoured the logs. The furniture was soft, and mostly burgundy in color. Upon the walls, no artwork was hung, and the only thing covering the splintering wood floor was a woven rug, which Coriander sat upon, taking in the heat of the flames before her.
"Here you go." The elder asked, handing Coriander a fragile tea cup, filled almost to the rim with warm, herbal tea.
"Thank you." Coriander replied, sipping the beverage.
"So, child, what is your name? And what brings you out on a freezing winter's eve?"
"I am Coriander. My mother sent me to find my father… You see, my mother is human, like you. She and I live together. But my father was a dragon, and I've never met him…" Coriander struggled to explain the situation as easily as she could to avoid any confusion.
"Ah… You sound like my granddaughter, Elora. She's out at the moment, but she'll be coming back soon."
"Mm… So, what's your name?"
"My name is Dysis."
"That's a beautiful name."
"Thank you…"
There was a long pause as the two enjoyed their tea, and shelter from the outside.
"Where are you headed, Coriander?"
"The city of Avalar."
Dysis laughed. "There's a common misconception that the city is named Avalar… The Avalar that you must be looking for is the valley just a few miles beyond it… They say it's nice this time of year."
Coriander groaned in dismay. The journey had taken so much out of her, and it was only the first day. To know that her first destination was even farther away put even more of a burden on her shoulders.
The front door opened, and in walked a figure, bundled up in winter attire. The figure dropped an armful of fire wood by the doorway, and walked into the den. "Oh Elora! I was just talking about you!" Dysis grinned, knowing that it had to be none other than her grandchild.
Elora removed her coat and placed it on the back of her grandmother's chair. Coriander soon realized that she and Elora did have something in common. The girl had beautiful auburn hair, and flawless skin. She was what one would consider "normal" from the waist up. Her lower half, on the other hand, was that of a fawn. Her hooves made a rhythmic tapping noise as they struck the floor. Elora smiled and sat herself in the chair adjacent to the eldest female.
"Elora, darling," Dysis began, her pale, sightless eyes closing. "Would you be a dear and lead Coriander here to the valley of Avalar tomorrow morning?"
"Of course, Grandma." Elora's eyes shimmered, revealing unspeakable adoration for her relative.
"Thank you." Coriander chimed in.
"You're welcome." The fawn girl replied, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. "But it's a long walk. You should probably get some sleep."
Coriander was shown to a cramped guest room. The smell in the air was musty, and the furniture was coated in dust, but she was thankful that somebody had given her shelter. She curled herself up under the hand made quilt that was so daintily placed over the bed. Outside, the wind had picked up, throwing once soft snowflakes against windows like pebbles into a lake. The howls of the breeze tore at the house, making its decrepit foundation creak in agony.
She closed the lids to her burning eyes and tried to cast herself off into a deep, undisturbed sleep. Yet this was unsuccessful. Images haunted her mind of what might have been if she hadn't found shelter for the night. She hat vivid night terrors about meeting her father. Trembling from these all to real fears, she found herself unable to rest. This did not stop her attempts. She laid there for the night, in a state somewhere between conscious, and asleep.
When the morning sun rose, she found herself eager to rise. Her stomach was not crying for food, and her eyes did not water from drowsiness. Instead, her legs, though sore, were waiting to carry her home.