Jena the dragon sat in the middle of a field, sipping tea from a large vessel.
She enjoyed the tea.
She enjoyed the wind blowing across the rustling grass.
She enjoyed being a dragon, though she was considering returning to a human-form soon… She was sentimental, and didn’t want to forget what it felt like.
“I got your message.” Kuli said, landing on the grass near her. “Out at the mountain again… His mountain.”
Jena nodded in acknowledgment, though she did not turn toward her friend. Instead, she sat silently in the grass, sipping her tea as the other dragon approached and sat beside her.
The pair remained silent for some time.
“Why do you call it a mountain?” Kuli asked, doing his best to respectfully break the silence.
“It used to be one.” Jena explained. “About twenty-two, twenty-three thousand years ago. It was flattened about eighteen thousand years ago to make room for a space program, then used as a bombardment field about two thousand years after that, but when he was buried, this spot was one of the highest in the area.”
“Oh… All that happened before I was born.” Kuli said.
Jena nodded. “Yes.”
“We may both be considered ancients, but there’s still such a big difference between us.” Kuli continued.
“I lived in the era of mortality.” Jena said. “I was born into a world where death was a certainty. I had loved ones who died, and experienced the great loss associated with their passing. You never have.”
The statement was spoken in a logical, matter-of-fact tone of voice, but Kuli felt a sympathy welling up within him for this unknowable state of mind.
“What does it feel like?” He asked after a small, contemplative silence. “Losing someone, I mean.”
Jena took another sip from her tea. “It’s a pain that never disappears.” She said. “Not really. You learn to live with it, of course, but no matter what you do or where you go, the crushing darkness you once felt when your loved one first died remains an ever-present shadow that can stalk you and strike at any moment.”
“Then why come out here?” Kuli asked.
“Because as sad as it feels to remember, it’s far more tragic to forget. I don’t come out here to mourn his death, but to celebrate the life he once had…” She trailed off as her vision began to swim with tears. She shut her eyes and shook her head. “…If he’d only managed to survive another decade.” She said in a wavering voice. “I… I always wonder what it’d be like if he could’ve hung on for just ten more years. That’s it! That would have been enough! If he could’ve survived just ten more short years then medical advances could have saved him and he’d be with me here, now, enjoying tea on our favorite mountain…”
Jena felt her mood careening into the depths of deepest melancholy.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, opened her eyes, and stared out at the horizon.
She took a deep sip of tea.
Kuli remained silent.
“I know it’s a bit uncouth for those of us from the first generation to act out on our memories like that.” She said. “I apologize.”
“It’s okay.” Kuli said in a small voice. “Like I said, I don’t understand what it feels like. I mean, you’ve been coming out here almost every year for tens of thousands of years… It must mean a lot to you.”
“To everyone like me.” Jena said. She took another drink, using the pause to return to a more stable state. “You know when immortality was first achieved, some people thought it would mean the end for religion. What those people never accounted for were the people we’d already lost, and the pain we’d forever feel at never getting to see them again. Those of us from the first generation feel this pain directly, and everyone who came after feels it through natural human empathy.”
Kuli wasn’t sure his empathy was human, as he’d spent most of his existence as a dragon, but he didn’t feel it appropriate to correct Jena on the issue. Instead, he allowed the silence to linger.
Jena sipped her tea.
The grass swayed casually in the calm wind.
“What was he like?” Kuli asked. It seemed the right thing to ask.
Jena gave a faint smile. “A lot like me.” She said. “We were both nerds, which is why I spend so much time as a fantasy creature. In those days, dragons were the stuff of fantasy, you see, and we often concocted fun stories around them. He liked Green Tea…” She stared down into her mug and gave the liquid a skeptical look. “…though I’m not sure this tea is the same kind we used to drink. It’s still called Green Tea, but there have been so many cultivars coming and going throughout the centuries that it’d be very easy for the tastes to subtly change over such a long period of time without me noticing.”
Nevertheless, she took another sip. It was beginning to grow a bit cool, so she breathed a small flame at its base for a few seconds.
“Maybe we could build a memorial for him.” Kuli suggested. “Some people do that.”
Jena gave a small, sad smile. “We could.” She agreed. “Though it wouldn’t matter. His body’s long gone, and even the mountain he was buried on no longer exists. It would do me no favors to return here, year after year, watching his memorial weather away to nothing.” She shook her head. “No. He exists now in my memories, and hopefully…” She stared skyward. “…Hopefully, on another plane of existence, he’s flying around and enjoying some tea as well.”