Ceris, come here”, an old voice requested. It had become brittle by age. The youth did as the elder asked and scooted closer.

Amia”, the youth spoke in a small voice.

“It has come time to form the image out of the rock of the first mountain”, the elder said and nodded to a block of stone that jutted from the surface of the mountain top.

“But, amia, you could live forever. There is no need for this”, the youth pleaded. The elder shook her head.

“My dear ceris, all things must come to an end.”

“Not you.”

The youth’s voice was petulant.

“It is not good to live forever, for in an eternity only loneliness can be found. I have lived long enough to know this.”

The youth continued to stay silent refusing to acknowledge the elder’s words. She huffed with amusement swiping the smaller dragon towards her with her tail and tucking her wing around it.

Amia, I cannot bear the thought of a world without you”, the smaller dragon said and finally looked at his mother who sighed at her youth’s words.

“You will not be alone, the youngest of all my offspring. Your brothers and sisters will care for you”, the old dragon explained.

“Let me tell you something”, she then began and the youth glanced at her.

“There is a heart in all things and this heart is sacred. The sky was made from the emptiness, yet they both have hidden hearts. The earth came from the sky and I have flown along all of it knowing that you can return to the point you began from no matter which way you go under the sky. And I know that encased deeper than the deepest tree roots lies the heart of the earth.”

“All beings began from another and this forbearer is the bearer of the hidden heart, they never truly die for the death of the bearer of the hidden heart will mean the death of all with links to it. For in the hidden heart lives the spirit of all beings.”

“But, amia”, her little one complained.

“What does this have to do with you having to go away?”

The old dragon nuzzled him puffing out a smoke ring that broke on his hard scales.

“Everything, my little light. You must learn patience.”

She then licked his nose making him squirm. The old dragon laughed at him kindly.
“You are so very young, still a baby, and my little light.”

“I am no baby!” the young dragon exclaimed indignantly.

“But you are, dearest, you are not even a hundred of the sun cycles. The others are so much older than you. You have much to learn.”

She smiled adjusting her wing over him.

“I am Draco, the first of our kin, the bearer of the hidden heart. And I am different from the other hidden hearts, for it is the home of the primal fire which is what is left of the heart of the emptiness. It is the spirit of the dragon which must be held safe for I grow weary and wish to return to the sky.”

She could see that her young could not comprehend her words. He was content and warm curling in on himself sleepily. After he had fallen asleep Draco got up and blew into the stone. It turned into an image of herself. Nuzzling her youngest son once more she blew the primal fire, the spirit of the dragon, into the stone and her body dissolved into the wind which took her up to the sky where she met her father with rapture.

The young dragon slept on guarding the statue with his presence unknowing of the passing of his mother.

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