Wyrmses Winning Entry

When I was young, I saw witnessed a year where Boreal succeeded in completely removing Mistmas from existence. The shops were barren and no soul had an ounce of cheer. Mericlaus was nowhere to be seen, and Mistmas trees remained in the fields, uncut, untrimmed, and undecorated. People avoided each other in the streets without so much as a ‘hello’!

Naturally, being as small as I was, and being a Mericai, I believed strongly in the magic of shooting stars. Wanting Mistmas to return, I found myself atop a grassy hill, just a few hours before Mistmas morning. I intended to find a shooting star, and I fully intended on wishing, and for said wish to come true!

It turned out to be a rather cloudy night; I couldn’t see any stars. Oh well, I just had to wait for the clouds to clear! With that in mind, I waited… And waited. A Genderbug caught my eye, and I hunkered down to inspect it in awe. I was careful not to tough it, but it was pretty to look at!

It eventually spread its wings and fluttered away, and with the distraction gone, I remembered my reason for being on the hill. I looked up, nose pointing at an angle. No shooting stars. There was, however, a small cluster of stars that seemed relatively cloud-free.

That was fine; it just meant I could see the stars I was wishing on. (Silly shooting stars, always running off the way they do.) I wished I may, and I wished I might. I wished so hard, I even closed my eyes. I wished long, and I wished loud. Imagine my surprise when I looked back up at the stars, and found them looking back at me!

As it turned out, I hadn’t been wishing upon a cluster of stars. I had been wishing upon the back of a sleeping Zodiac Belragoth. I was embarrassed, and apologized, shuffling a hoof in the cool grass. Dragons are intelligent and wise creatures, so it was only natural that he accepted my mumbled words. He was very nice to me, and for a time, we sat and talked.

I told him about my wish, and what had led up to it, and do you know what he did? He laughed! He laughed a great, deep, rumbling sound, to which I bristled. He was laughing at my wish, and I was offended! That didn’t last long, however.

“Young one, there is something you must understand,” He informed me in the deep voice of his. “Mistmas isn’t about what is in the stores. It isn’t about gifts or parties. Mistmas is about being together with your friends and family. It is about the bonds you share with each other. Here, take that wish of yours. Take it and grant it yourself. Go home and make Mistmas happen.”

Eyes wide and ears perked, I nodded, and after his massive claw gently nudged me, I bounded home as quickly as possible. My parents had been waiting all night for me, questioning me as soon as I came through the door. I explained to them where I had been, who I had met, and what he had said.

They accepted it, glad only that I had come home safe. We embraced, and it was then that I saw that the old dragon’s words were true; Mistmas was about family. My parents and I went to bed, peacefully sleeping.

When we woke, it was Mistmas morning. True, we had no gifts, but that didn’t stop us from going outside and cheerfully wishing our neighbors a merry Mistmas. My, what a look we got! He was so confused! He returned our greeting, somewhat befuddled, then watched us for a while as we played our Mistmas games and sang. Soon, he and his family had joined us, then his neighbor followed suit, and so on and so forth.

In a matter of hours, the whole neighborhood was alive with activity and song! We continued on, playing, singing, and merrymaking until nightfall, when we all pitched in, cooking a great feast. It took place in the town square, as that seemed to be the only place large enough to fit all our families.

The festivities went on well into the night, quiet coming long past midnight. We all wished each other a good night and went to our respective homes, content. I’d bet you my left horn Boreal was quite upset.

From that day on, Mistmas was never the same. In fact, the next year, stores were fully stocked and everyone had found their Mistmas spirit. Why, even Bud the Bum had tinsel and lights hanging from his ‘Trash Hole’ sign.

Merry Mistmas, all.