A Magic of Her Own

Kaelir was transfixed. Amara's breath fogged the air. Her words lit the night sky, burning like fire smoldering clay, and she finely crafted a story. The crowd stood in awe of her ardor like a hoard glinting in the moonlight. Amid the laughter of children and the attention of men, women, and everything in and out the binary, her eyes shined the brightest when she noticed Kaelir. She gazed upon them, her braids adorned with golden beads, swinging wildly; she told the story of a dragon who loved the river and ventured from its mountain to follow it to its greatest treasure of all.

The soft snow kissed their long locs tied back as they lingered at the edge of the crowd. Their human form was clothed in a simple tunic and pants, a cloak over their broad shoulders. The cloak hid their scales patterned across their chest, arms, legs, and back. Amara had always ventured to their cave as an unnecessary sacrifice for her village. When they suspected Kaelir's presence, they offered their women as sacrifices, assuming they had an appetite for such things. He much preferred the undomesticated goats not far from their cave. However, the villagers already decided to believe in their stereotypes. Not Amara, she came with a story to tell. She came with a heart for conversation, treating Kaelir with a kindness they had never known from humans. They never thought they would leave their cave, until her departures left them with an ache as bright as red string.

The story ended, and the crowd applauded. Their curiosities were sated; they should leave. However, they wanted to talk to her again. Kaelir hesitated, but they took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, crisp air laced with a metallic scent and the strangely, salacious scent of her- sweat, earth, and soap. How did she enchant them like this? How did she compel their gaze to linger and explore the fill of her body, the shape of her breasts, the crescents of her hips- burgeoning desire jolting through their own body. Their gazes locked. "Amara."

A hearty smile spread across her face, sweat beading her sable skin. "Well, this is a nice surprise."

“I'm only here to speak with whomever the leader of this village is. They keep sending this strange storyteller to my mountain."

Amara rolled her eyes, but she grinned. "Liar," she said as she tugged on her jacket. "This strange storyteller finally got you to come down from your mountain." She laughed, and it sounded warm and bright.

A sinuous blush broke through their usual staid countenance. They felt shaken like a strong wind pushing against a wooden tower. It was titillatingly unnerving. They cleared their throat as if to brush away strange, stray thoughts. "I should head back."

Amara furrowed her brows, but then she grabbed the full tip jar and stuffed it in her bag. "Not after you tell me how you liked my performance." She brushed past Kaelir, headed to the forest.

"Where are you going?"

"Going for a walk; want to come?"

No. They wanted to flee back to their mountain, back to safety, away from this vehement feelings welling inside them. At least, that’s what they told themselves. Instead their traitor lips said, "It’s not safe to travel alone in the woods."

"Well, I wouldn’t be alone if you came with me."

Kaelir grumbled, but just like that, they were following Amara- following the river. Together they ambled on a path that smelled of pine and wildflowers, making Kaelir think of the many morning strolls and how they all ended with this strange, powerful woman at the mouth of their cave. A cool breeze swept through weathered trees as they stepped over dead leaves. "So, how did you like my performance?" she asked.

"I thought it was cool."

Amara snorted. "Just cool?" she said, a hand on her chest. "I'm wounded. I was expecting beautiful, magnificent, amazing."

Kaelir glanced away, a warmth spreading to the tips of their pointed ears- a contrast to the chill in the air. "It was amazing."

"That’s better," she said with a lift of her chin and a puff of her chest.

Kaelir shook their head. "But you knew that already."

"I just like to hear you say it," she said, but her words came out in a whisper- her usual confident demeanor melting.

They glanced away. "Why?"

She fumbled with her thumbs, her lips pressed together, and her gaze on the forest floor, transforming. “Because they mean a lot coming from you.”

They snorted this time. "Am I so hard to impress?" they asked with a smirk.

"You have no idea," she replied with a laugh.

"Maybe I don't like making things easy for you."

Amara frowned and crossed her arms. “Hmph, and here I thought you were just shy.”

Kaelir felt that wind again-that wind knocking them over, and making them feel vulnerable and unstable. They should hide in a wall of silence. They should not stoke the fire of her constant defiance. She always lured them in this banter, and they always fell for it. If they fell this time, they were afraid they would fall into something they couldn’t name just yet. "I'm not shy." There was just no denying the red string pulling them closer and closer together.

"Oh yeah?" Amara stopped and stood in front of Kaelir with her hands on her hips and her brows arched. "Prove it."

They shoved their hands in their pockets, feeling frozen at the edge of stepping forward and the fear of losing control. Kaelir's traitor gaze settled on her succulent lips. Desire roared within them, rushing like clear water against stone. They followed the river, stepped forward into truth, and lifted a hand. Their fingers brushed against her high cheekbones, smooth as the top of a drum. She hummed at their touch, leaning into their hand. Their guard crumbled at their feet, and they couldn’t help but marvel at the way this woman made them want to drop to their knees.

They thought of the first time they learned to fly, how scary it was to rely on their wings to catch the sky. They kissed her, soft and hesitant at first. She was the wings to their sky, catching their lips with a tender brush that sent warmth crackling the icy air around them. The cold melted away as their kiss deepened slowly, a rhythm bloomed in the heart of winter.

When they pulled apart, Amara chuckled. "Guess you proved me wrong. For now."

"Maybe I just don't like making things easy for you."

"I guess I'll just have to keep impressing you," she quipped as she took their arm, and they moved forward through the forest.

"I'd like that."