An Eon Of Stargazing And Collaboration

Written for “Smogust’s Story Hoard”, prompt 9.

Since long before I hatched, dragons have watched the night sky and longed to know the truth of the stars. Why do they move? Why do some die? Where do the new ones come from? Younglings would make a game of flying as high as we could, trying to touch them.
To no avail. You soon accept the stars are far too far away.
It was one of the few things we had in common with humans, right at the start. When they first wandered up from the south and found us in our comfy crags.
Such strange creatures. Personable, but strange. Noisy, and impatient, and impetuous, and tragically short-lived. And yet, they are remarkably creative. Our species hit it off.
We gave them fire. They gave us building, and cloth. We taught them magic. They figured out metallurgy (who would’ve thought dull rocks could be made so shiny and beautiful!). Together we developed runes.
And of course we watched the sky together. Not content to merely memorise the patterns, humans drew sprawling charts. We thought it cute.
Then a human made a telescope. And suddenly our little friends were our true comrades in mapping the sky! No dragon had ever seen the moon like that. Had ever been able to tell for sure which dots were planets, much less examine them as if they were truly close enough to touch. Celestial marbles dangling before our eyes.
Before long the top aerie was given to telescopes and star charts and books we’d written about the topic. Humans like having conversations that stay, and can be referred to later. I suppose when you only live sixty years such things are important.
Now…
How long has it been? Since I saw that first meandering line of them following the river? I cannot recall. Enough that I am now old. The younglings call me “Ancient One”, and do not heed when I box their ears. I doubt I have much longer on this world.
I am so, so glad that I lived to see this.
The metal pillar stands proud. The culmination of countless generations - and many more human ones. Hard to believe that it can fly higher than any dragon ever dreamed.
But it can!
Already teams have gotten high enough to look down upon the entire world. The photographs brought tears to my eyes. Now, they are setting their sights higher - the moon.
I dragged myself out to the launch pad to bid them good luck, and to watch. I haven’t missed a launch yet. While I know many would argue with me, to my mind this is the pinnacle of magitech development! Breaking free from the sky, like fish leaping above the water!
“I wish we could make one that would carry you.” Anya says sadly.
While I sigh agreement, I smile reassuringly at her. Humans are far better suited for such tight jobs. Even a small dragon is a heavy load to fling so high. Usually only two younglings are part of a team for this reason. And my magic is past its prime.
“Perhaps one day.” I say.
Perhaps before I die, I might see the whole world for real. See the stars as close as my young self dreamed. Truly touch the moon. An eon of work completed.
For now, I join the rest of the crowd in roaring joyful encouragement as the rocket flares, runes glowing along its entire length, and rises into the sky trailing flames and plumes of magic. Upwards! Where no dragon, or dragon friend, has gone before! May they carry these old dreams with them.

I took the prompt as “Dragon watching the stars”.

Click through to see the art - and other stories written for it.