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Silently, the two dragons are gliding the night winds, soft beating of their wings in time, enchanted and entranced by all there is, one in a state of helpless reverence, the other simply silently supportive and until the youngster is once more quite settled and accepting, ready now to make the next transition, learn the next unfoldment, many yet to come but all have been experienced so many times before that there cannot be a fear of chance, of cataclysm now remaining.
Gently and with loving care, the elder leans into a new direction.
Their bond is nearly perfect, nearly perfect is the trust and there is only now the smallest flutter, tiniest of hesitations as the younger matches path and destination, to the right and up, around and up, a slow high arc that takes them both higher still, and higher still above the nightlands down below in their unearthly beauty, higher still and then the younger finds the pattern of the movement, its steady logic, direct path.
Their flight prescribes not just what once there was, the journey they had travelled but within it is the destination too, up and out, far and wide, the recognition of the perfect sweeping trail from there to then.
The pathway is a river and they travel upwards, further and wider, the joy of flying with the rushing of the river path beneath their wings, the lifting light which carries them and with each forward, upward sweep and stretch the streaming flight extends to further, further speeds, delirious now the joy of movement, all sense of time and space forgotten, here and now they are and where they were, or even where they will be once arriving, has become a something that is never part of what this is – the joy of flight is all there is.
How long they travelled thus, we cannot know; how far the distance is impossible to measure or to understand, but then there was a change, and an awareness came to be of something other entering within the golden state of flying faster than the speed of light, a beacon, a beckoning, an invitation that at first was interesting and pleasant, but then became a need, an urge to go there, an exciting, deep desire and a hunger urging to be filled, as it was needed to recall two golden dragons from their flights of ecstasy which otherwise might well continue on until eternity itself.
They slow and as they do, they step on down and out, and further down and out, a downward spiral arm which takes them to their destination, which was set right at the moment when the elder dragon chose this star from all the ones, from all there are.
A glorious sun of red and gold moves into their awareness as they approach; still fast they are and the younger is once more astonished, faltering at the sheer otherness and exotic richness of this star, so far from home and far away.
In fascination, quite enthralled by what this star is singing, speaking it requires gentle nudging from the elder to achieve a shift of focus and attention, back towards the pathway which is leading straight to one of five most splendid planets, it the second in the orbit, deepest azure veined with brilliant gold, so beautiful it is the younger feels as though its heart would burst and fiery lances lightning strike from deep within its chest, but he retains his balance and then both swoop purposefully, most unstoppably towards their one true home and meeting place, the elder world of magic where the dragon’s race had come to be, the holder of the seeds of all the dragons, far and wide though they may be across the planes and galaxies.
Two Dragons - Excerpt from Veritas 2004 by Silvia Hartmann
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