#shatteredreality

Whatever matters now will not matter then.

Whatever is painful will leave in the end.

When your bones no longer bend

A helping hand, someone will lend

A warm breeze blew through the field, and the grass rippled, looking as if gold had been melted and turned into a meadow that nobody occupied. A section of the never-ending grass had been charred, and every now and then, there were sprinkles of a material that didn't belong, as if it had snowed ash and the ash had just never gone away. The sky was a beautiful blue, the sun shining and bright though not creating too much heat, which would have made the field's hidden occupants uncomfortable.

Suddenly, there was a shimmer as something fluttered, streaking through the air. Just as quickly as it had come, however, it was gone, and silence filled the empty air, just as it had for years upon years.

And then, disturbing the silence, there was an ear-shattering roar. A voice, a single voice, calling for another.

A head snapped up, dark hair tumbling around a beautiful round face. Icy eyes stared at the golden grass that surrounded her like a forest, a never ending jungle, and then filled with excitement. She stood swiftly, a white gown clothing her, rippling around her feet like a pool of pure starlight. Thin fingers grasped a stem of grass, and translucent wings shimmered at her back, sparkling and shining as she extended them, preparing to fly. She waited for a moment, listening.

The roar came again, this time louder. It was pained, lonely, as if it had been years since it had known companionship, and her eyes filled with grief as she realized it wasn't quite the person she had been waiting on. But still, it was someone to talk to.

Tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear, she started forward, weaving through the stems of grass. Her body grew and grew until she was waist-deep in it rather than hidden, and her blue eyes scanned the field in search of the source of the noise.

When she found it, the source of the roar, she stopped and studied it.

It was clearly a dragon, though it wasn't her metallic dragon. The creature was massive, larger than her's, but mournful, sad, and crazed with grief. She smiled warmly at it and moved closer until she stood before it, just as she had since coming to these golden fields. She gently touched its scales.

"I understand," she said simply when an eye opened to glare at her. Her voice had a lilt to it, as if she wasn't from the same land he came from, but the dragon said nothing, instead looking away.

She smiled gently, stroking the scales now. The dragon would stay until he was ready to move on, just as several others had before him. People, dragons, and even other fairies had passed through, yet she remained.

She would wait. She'd waited for so long, it was pointless to give in now. He'd come some day. She knew he now had a son to watch over, along with the son's wife and child. She knew what it was like to love a child, and she would never hope that he left them before he was ready.

Yes, the queen of fairies would patiently wait for the iron dragon she'd grown to love more than her own existence, and until then?

What else was there to do but share another's grief?