In a small room near a dying fireplace, a young woman perched on a chair. She sat sideways, her head resting against the back of the seat. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, partially veiling her face. Strands of straw clung to the silver-embroidered hem of her short, knee-length green velvet dress. The young woman was asleep. Beside the fireplace, on a large pile of straw covered with burlap, lay a small she-drake, about the size of a goat. She was asleep too, but her breathing was heavy and fitful. Her once-brilliant, bright emerald scales had grown dull, fading to a muted sage green. Her flanks were hollow. The drake was clearly, gravely ill, as evidenced by the bandage peeking out from under the blanket draped over her. The young woman had evidently been trying to nurse her back to health, spending days and nights on end with her pet. The door creaked and opened slightly, admitting a girl of about ten with thin, reddish braids and a dusting of freckles across her nose. In her hands, she held a clay mug filled with a hot brew and a plate with a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. Slipping into the room behind her were two emerald dragonets. Smaller than the mother drake, they were, by all appearances, her hatchlings. With quiet, plaintive coos, they ran to their sleeping mother. The girl shushed them into silence. The dragonets quietly nestled beside their mother, sighing and squeaking sadly. The young woman dozing in the chair startled and opened her bright green eyes, framed by thick lashes. They were currently bloodshot from lack of sleep. She yawned and rubbed her face with her palms. "I'm sorry, Larita, that Kree and Tris woke you," the little girl said, placing the mug and the plate of food on the edge of the mantelpiece. "I brought you some hot herbal tea, and some bread and cheese." "Thank you, Lissy!" the older girl said, patting her head. "It was time for me to wake up anyway. Look, the fire has almost gone out, and Karissa needs the warmth." She tossed a couple of logs into the hearth, and before long, the fire blazed brightly once more. "How is she?" Lissy asked. "Not well. She hardly ever wakes. She won't eat, and she drinks very little." Larita pressed her palm against the drake's flank. "Her heart is beating weaker." "What are we going to do?" Lissy sat down beside the dragonets, stroking their spiky heads. "The dragon-healer is supposed to come today," Larita sighed. "But I honestly don't know if his visit will help anymore. And meanwhile, our coin is running thin." As if on cue, footsteps thumped up the stairs, followed by a soft knock at the door. Larita rose, walked over to the door, opened it, and let in a slender, elderly man wearing a black cloak over a matching robe. "Good morning, Master Varuss!" she greeted him. "I certainly hope it turns out to be so," the healer nodded, tossing his cloak into Lissy's arms. "How is your pet?" "Just the same," Larita shook her head sadly. Varuss pulled a stool up to the bedding and examined the drake, who merely cracked her eyes open for a brief moment but remained motionless. "Things look grim," the healer said, clicking his tongue. "She is entirely spent. I am afraid she won't survive another night." Lissy sobbed, burying her face in the healer's cloak, and Larita wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "What can we do? Is there truly nothing that can help?" she asked. "The only thing that could still save Karissa is the Potion of Living Fire. But it is far too expensive," the healer said, throwing his hands up as he prepared to leave. He knew perfectly well that the sisters, orphaned several years ago, were in a very bleak financial state. "Wait, Master Varuss!" Larita caught him by the sleeve. "Do you have this potion?" "No, child," he shook his head. "I do not have it. But you can likely buy it from Old Michelina on Red Street. It is very, very pricey, though! Michelina demands gold for it," the healer warned and left the room. "What are we going to do, Larita?" Lissy sobbed. "Will we really have to sell our last drakes?" "I'll think of something," Larita said, ruffling her hair. For many years, their family, proudly bearing the surname Rayo—which meant "lightning"—had bred postal dragon-drakes. Of course, they were a far cry from the massive war and riding dragons. But that was never required of them. Small, the size of a goat or a calf, they were remarkably intelligent, obedient, and swift in flight. It was the Rayo family's postal drakes that were renowned throughout the entire province as the absolute best messengers. But after their parents tragically perished in a mountain landslide while returning from a trip to the capital, everything started to fall apart. Their elderly grandmother, left alone to raise the orphaned ten-year-old Larita and one-year-old Lissy, knew little about breeding drakes. Gradually, their business fell into ruin. And when their grandmother passed away as well, things got so bad that they were left with just a single pair of drakes—Karissa and Trinis. Then, a week ago, a wild chimera sneaked into the drakes' stable. Trinis and Karissa heroically defended their brood, Kree and Tris. But the chimera proved far stronger; it slaughtered Trinis and severely mauled Karissa. Fortunately, the neighbors heard the commotion and came to the rescue just in time, finding Larita trying to drive the beast away single-handedly. Through their combined efforts, the predator—who had still taken quite a beating from the drakes—was killed. For several days now, Larita had been trying to nurse Karissa back to health, but to no avail. Aside from the wounds, the brave drake was being slowly killed by the chimera's venom. That was why she simply could not recover. "I must go, Lissy. I'm going to run to Old Michelina's. I hope I have enough coins for the Potion of Living Fire," Larita said, and throwing on a short, squirrel-fur-lined cloak, she hurried out of the room. With the iron-shod heels of her boots clicking against the snowy pavement, Larita walked briskly through the streets of her hometown, ignoring the cold wind that kept trying to slip under her cloak or tear the hood from her head. Presently, the girl stopped in front of Old Michelina's shop. She caught her breath and stepped inside. The aromas of medicinal herbs and precious incense enveloped her. Larita turned her head, inspecting the jars, vials, and phials of all kinds of potions lining the shelves. Some of them glowed with a soft greenish, blue, or purple light. In others, multicolored sparks glimmered... An elderly voice jolted Larita from her awestruck gazing: "Did you need something, child?" Larita startled and looked around. Behind the counter stood a hunched old woman, though she didn't look at all like some wicked witch. "Do you have the Potion of Living Fire, Mistress Michelina?" Larita asked, clearing her throat. "I do have such a thing," the old woman nodded and called out toward the back of the shop, "Enrico, fetch the Potion of Living Fire, will you?" A tall, curly, dark-haired young man appeared in the doorway leading to the adjoining room, carrying a jar inside which bright orange tongues of fire danced. At any other time, Larita would certainly have noticed the handsome potion-maker's assistant and how his brown eyes sparkled when he saw her. But she had no time for that—her gaze devoured the coveted medicine for Karissa. "Here is the potion you need, child," the old woman said, taking the jar from Enrico and placing it on the counter. "Three gold pieces." Larita gasped. "I only have two. My drake is dying. This is all we have," she said, her voice trembling. "Could you please sell it to me on trust? I will absolutely pay you back!" "No, my dear!" the old woman grew stern. "I do not give credit!" Larita was bewildered at first, but then she suddenly snatched the jar of potion and bolted out of the shop. "Hey! Get back here!" with a loud shout, Enrico vaulted over the counter and burst out into the street after Larita. Larita ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the street, clutching the precious potion to her chest. Yes, she had stolen it, but nothing else had crossed her mind. And behind her echoed the thud of boots as Enrico gained on her. "Stop, you troublemaker! Stop, I say!" Enrico shouted. He had nearly caught up with Larita and even managed to snag her fluttering cloak, but Larita yanked the ties and let the cloak go. Enrico actually slipped on the snowy pavement from the unexpected maneuver, but he kept right on her heels. Larita zig-zagged between houses and ducked into alleyways, but the potion-maker's assistant stuck to her like glue. He had almost cornered her when a green streak flashed past. One of Larita's little dragonets darted right into Enrico's path. Enrico tripped over the tiny creature and crashed down onto the stones. The drake nimbly dodged and scampered off, while Larita ducked around a corner and burst through the door of her home. Without even stopping to think whether the assistant had seen where she hid, the girl hurriedly ran up the stairs and dropped to her knees before the drake. "Larita, did you buy the potion?!" Lissy exclaimed ecstatically, staring at the little fires dancing inside the jar. "She stole it," declared a heavily breathing Enrico, who had fallen behind Larita by only a few moments. Lissy gasped and shrank back toward her sister in fright. Larita hid the potion behind her back. "I won't give it back!" she blurted out in despair. "Can't you see? My drake is dying! I cannot let that happen!" Enrico stared at Larita for a long time. Even with her brow furrowed in anger, her face flushed from running and the frost, and her hair sticking to her heated skin, she was remarkably beautiful. The young man let out a heavy sigh and stepped toward her. "Hand over the jar. And a spoon," he told the utterly stunned Larita. "I... I beg your pardon?" she stammered. "Give me a spoon. And a glass of water," Enrico said with feigned sternness. "Do you even know the correct dosage your drake needs?" "No," Larita shook her head blankly. Lissy grabbed the mug of herbal tea that Larita had left untouched from the mantelpiece and held it out to the young man along with a spoon she had taken from the same spot. "Will rowan berry brew with mint and honey do? Or should I pour it out?" "It will do. Better than water, actually," Enrico nodded, finally taking the jar of potion from Larita and unscrewing the lid. "Take the blanket off the drake," he commanded. "I need to estimate her weight." Larita did as he asked. "Yes, indeed. Things are grim. But don't worry, all is not lost yet." He poured some potion onto the spoon, causing tongues of flame to envelop it, added it to the infusion, and stirred thoroughly. "Prop her head up!" he ordered, and once Larita complied, he gently pried the drake's jaws open and poured the resulting solution inside. The drake swallowed the medicine. Larita lowered her head back onto the straw and bundled her up in the blanket again. "You'll need to administer the potion according to a specific schedule every hour," Enrico began. "Wait," Larita interrupted him. "You're not going to call the town guard?" "Should I?" the young man chuckled. "I can see you're in a real tight spot with your drake. Just heal her, it's fine." "But I don't have three gold pieces! Only two!" Enrico sighed. "Hand over your gold pieces. I'll add one of my own. I'll take it to Grandmother Michelina. She isn't actually mean. Nor is she spiteful. I'll explain that you panicked and all that. She'll forgive you." "Really?" Larita asked, rising to her feet, unable to believe her own ears. "Then I will owe you a gold piece. Here, take it! I will absolutely pay you back! I swear!" Enrico gave a mischievous smile and said: "You know, I'd be willing to forgive this debt if you go to the Winter Solstice festival with me." "Are you telling me a handsome lad like you has no one to go to the festivities with?" snorted Larita, her self-possession returning. "Nope," the young man grinned widely. "I only arrived at Grandmother Michelina's a week ago, and I haven't really had time to look around for pretty girls. And then a beauty comes walking right into our shop herself." Larita looked down bashfully. "And besides... Your drake needs her medicine strictly according to the schedule. Gradually increasing the dose, and then tapering it off. I must oversee this. Personally!" "Aren't you a clever rogue!" Larita shook her head, involuntarily giving in to the potion-maker's assistant's charm. "Alright, I'm off. Need to go set Grandmother's mind at ease. I'll be back in an hour!" He gave a theatrical bow, winked at Lissy, and left the room. Lissy and Larita looked at each other and burst out laughing. Then they knelt back down beside the drake. Larita touched her head and neck. "You know, she doesn't feel quite as hot," she said softly. "Did the potion really help? Just like that?" Lissy stroked the drake too. "Surely. They don't call it the Potion of Living Fire for nothing. You saw what it's like yourself! Our Karissa is going to get better now." Kree and Tris squeezed through the door, cautiously approached their mother's bedding, and lay down beside her, pressing their heads against her flank. The sisters stroked the little dragonets and talked quietly. Hope flared in their hearts that their Karissa would recover now and everything would look up for them. Especially since Enrico had offered to help...