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The beginning of Caldarus’ life was so far, so distant that it clung to the edge of the faint memories he had left. Immortality: the life of a dragon was endless, and everlasting. Mortal life around the dragon was not even a fraction to his own—the outer layer of skin, an ant to an elephant, or a leaf to a pine tree.
And he had seen so many years, so many sunrises and sunsets that it was nearly all the same to him.
But, Caldarus did not dismiss it, or shame it, or mock it. Instead, there was beauty in every beam of morning light, in every drop of heavy rain and twinkling star that sat in the night sky.
It was nature’s treasure.
So, when awakened from his deep sleep, as Mistria’s guardian once more, Caldarus was well aware he would witness all of these natural jewels once more. It what he looked forward to most; even if it was all the same, it was a blessing to observe, to breathe in.
Except, he grew interested—distracted almost in a specific individual, who had awoken him from his slumber.
When the sun peeked over the mountains, setting the days in a orange, Caldarus looked beyond the prettiness of morning dew. At midday, beyond the fluttering of butterflies, the dragon stared from where he sat in his statue state. And at dark, when the night chill settled, not even the glow of fireflies stole his attention.
Day after day, Caldarus’ interest was on only the farmer. It certainly did not help that they spoke to him about almost anything—everything, and regularly too. Everyday, the dragon admired them more and more. It was not for their strength and hardwork for they certainly showed it, but for their heart too.
The mortal spoke so fondly of Mistria’s residents: to Adeline’s hard efforts that were a touch concerning, Celine’s wondrous fascination with flowers, to Eiland’s amusing interest in artifacts, to the Friday nights where Caldarus wondered when the farmer would return to tell him of the events they had been up to.
And that wonder, that intoxicating joy came with the most mundane topics too; the conversations that may have bored someone else, but it did not for Caldarus. He watched the sparkle in their eye, the wrinkle in their cheeks as they smiled. Caldarus found himself wondering how it would feel like to feel such mirth, such excitement that the short life of a mortal was forgotten about.
Deep emotions were not often felt by him, as he always practiced a more stoic, calm mind. But Caldarus found himself longing, yearning—wanting to be closer.He wished he could help them in some way—whether it be to tend the crops, to go to the mines with them or even a walk in the woods.
So, when Caldarus heard of the shooting stars, the same phenomenon that happened every year during summer, he expected to hear that the farmer would spend the night with someone from the village. The entirety of the day the dragon was tense, an itch behind his ear or a ruffling needed for his hair.
This feeling grew hotter, more intense every time he caught sight of the farmer.
So, when the sun lowered and the day darkened, Caldarus watched the mortal disappear up the hill and into the village. He did not expect to see them for the rest of the night, and a feeling of disappointment settled in his scaled belly.
Or was that loneliness?
Left with nothing but nature’s night song, the insects and the breeze in the trees, Caldarus watched the night skies. He waited patiently, but what came was not what he had expected.
It was disbelief that hit him first; long, draconic eyes widening at the sight before him. The mortal stood at the foot of the foundation of his statue, staring at him with the same cheerfulness in their eyes that he found himself bewitched by them.
Caldarus could only voice his disbelief, his confusion and bewilderment at their sudden return. It was unexpected, and he could not believe they were not watching the stars with someone.
Who would refuse them? Who would not wish to spend this beautiful night watching the stars in their presence?
Almost bashfully, timidly, Caldarus asked them to join him—to witness this beautiful night by his side. He was shocked to hear them agree, and he had been the reason they wanted to come back to the farm. Caldarus was tense, and not with frustration or discomfort, but an overwhelming cascade of bliss.
They sat quietly, gaze drawn to the skies, before it began. Beautiful streaks of light shot along the dark sky; scattered moondust that peppered the skies with their radiance. But, Caldarus’ gaze did not linger on the sky above, and instead found himself gazing upon the mortal beside him.
The starry light lit their face up, the twinkle and shine in their eyes brighter than ever before. The awe, the fascination evident and clear that Caldarus compared them to moons. Even then, that was not enough to compare.
The stars were dim besides this mortal. The moon blackened out in their rapture. If this had been the first night Caldarus had lived, the first night he witnessed these shooting stars, his eyes would still have only been on this human. As for the first time in his lifetime, Caldarus knew he had never seen true beauty till now.