The Dragon Who Warmed the Winter
High in the snowy mountains, in a cave behind a frozen waterfall, lived an old dragon named Cinder. His scales were the color of embers, and his breath — long ago the terror of knights — had gone soft and warm with age, like the air above a fresh loaf of bread.
Below his mountain sat a little village, and on the coldest night of the year, Cinder heard something on the wind: children shivering. Fires burning low. Teeth chattering in a dozen little beds.
Cinder stretched his creaky wings. “Well,” he rumbled softly. “That won’t do.”
Down he glided, silent as snowfall, to the sleeping village. And at the first house, he did the gentlest thing a dragon has ever done: he leaned over the chimney and breathed — hooooh — one long, slow, warm breath, down into the embers below.
The fire in the hearth glowed up golden. The house filled with warmth. Inside, a shivering little boy stopped shivering, sighed, and snuggled deeper into his blankets.
Cinder smiled and moved to the next chimney. Hooooh. And the next. Hooooh. House by house, roof by roof, the old dragon breathed the whole village warm — the baker’s house, the cobbler’s house, the tiny house at the end of the lane where the new baby slept.
By morning, every hearth was glowing and nobody knew why. “What wonderful coals!” the villagers said. “What a well-built fire!” Only the smallest children, peeking out their windows just before dawn, saw ember-colored wings sliding home behind the waterfall — and smallest children know how to keep a cozy secret.
Back in his cave, Cinder curled up, old bones toasty from all that good work, and fell into the deep, satisfied sleep of someone who has warmed the world a little and asked for nothing back.
So tonight, when your blankets feel especially warm — wonder, just for a moment, whether an old kind dragon has been past your chimney too.
The end. 🐉
Talk about it together
- What did Cinder do with his warm breath?
- Who keeps you warm and cozy in winter?
- What kind thing could you do without anyone knowing?