rainbows

.

To be born, to be alive. Oxigen that burns, blood that flows, eyes that open.

To stare into his eyes once again, life-long companion, fate wanted them to reunite.

.

The little dragon is separated from his master. They were flying, followed by many, until they came and with them came the explosions. He saw men fight, he saw big plants sprout out of nowhere, he saw big surges of energy fly in all directions. He was small, he couldn't fly and he couldn't do anything to prevent from falling off his master's shoulder.

The light that surged from that man's hand blinded him for a few moments, and once he focused his vision again, he was alone. He was so small, unable to fly on his own. He made his way through the city's destroyed streets, hoping wreckage, avoiding hogwash, he looked for anyone familiar. It was when he fell on a puddle of oil that he tried to fly, get away from all this dirt and darkness and solitude, but his efforts where in vain and he fell once again. He stared for a few seconds at the rainbow on the oil's surface, and in a moment of eloquence mused about how that warped rainbow reflected the city and its people: faded, dark, dead. Shallow, fake, killers. And he moved on, he had to find them quickly. Covered in rainbows, he moved on.

.

If only he'd been faster, if only he'd been there just a few seconds prior, if only he was able of making louder sounds. He was there! After wandering for so long, minutes and hours and days, he'd found him! If only his little legs were faster, if only he could fly. The door wouldn't open and he was alone and the weight of reality was becoming unbearable.

Crying, he clung to the boy's arms. Unable to go through, they left, away from his warmth.

.

For a long while, a dragon's cries would echo in the church's corridors at night. On rainy afternoons a dragon could be seen staring at the sky, in the middle of the courtyard, washing away imaginary stains.

.

It was years later, that they met again. He was bigger now, he was slender and graceful, his ever-aching heart always longing for his master's return. This time, flying towards him was no feat, and they both fell to the ground in a mess of limbs and feathers. He could see, feel his light. He was taller, skinnier and paler, but his smile was as beautiful as ever and just seeing him was enough to burst in tears.

He felt his master hug him, snuggling in his chest, and between crying, licking the boy's face and his hiccups, he was at a loss of what to do.

Surrounded by their saviours, they cried their loneliness out, until they were sure it wasn't a cruel nightmare.

.

He wasn't just bigger and stronger, he was wiser. He was beautiful, glorified, a wanderer. He'd soar the skies with no clear destination in mind, after so much time he was above earthly attachments. Only those with a kind heart would catch a glimpse of him in the sky, always flying.

He was fond of cold weathers the most, often visiting the still frozen castle, the still frozen forest, the noble church on snowy nights, the first district on christmas' eve. Only a handful would be lucky enough to come across him on a rainy afternoon, always gazing at the sky, light scattering all around him.

He'd come to terms with it a long time before. He knew he'd outlive them. Him.

.

Sometimes it took them a few years, but he'd always find them. He just had to look for their colours, their unique feeling, the soothing whisper of the souls of the ones allowed to return. Always watching over them, the wise old dragon flavoured each new memory with youthful delight, that beautiful arrange of colours so dear to him.

And then he'd appear. They'd reunite once again and the first times he'd cry in joy, thankful. He'd appear and the wise old dragon would find a new meaning to life each time. He was his northern star.

Then life would go on, the same cycles repeating themselves over and over again, such is the existence of long-living beings.

.

Death, meeting God. Ehxaling one's last breath, warmth slowly fading away. The carcass of a noble being, consumed by the passing of time.

They'd meet over and over again, because fate entwined their souls. Coming back, to search and to find, to walk through life together.

theend

.

Afterword: Gives me the feeling of a guardian, like Kirara watching over Midoriko's grave. I feel bad for damning Frau here (or is it too subtle?), let's hope he has a happy ending in the manga. I found that Graffias' lyrics are amazingly fitting to Mikage and Teito's relationship in canon. Thanks for reading.