Till the Mountains Turn to Dust (The Chronicles of Eridia)
Page 29
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T-mail transmission:
From: Reynard Fuggs
To: Solace Tenant
July 6, 6692; 10:00 PM:
Dear Solace,
It’s funny that we both want to write movies. Maybe we should collaborate on something. However it turns out, it’d certainly be the most historically accurate movie ever made!
And no, I don’t think your fantasy of dragon-riding is at all silly. It sounds quite beautiful, actually. I wish my own dreams were half so nice. I’ll bet somewhere there’s a dragon you could befriend and sweet-talk into taking you for a little ride. (Though I’m fairly certain no dragon would be able to take you above the sun.)
The heat is everywhere, actually. It’s here too. Not quite as bad as what you’re describing, but close. At midday the sun is oppressively hot in a way I haven’t felt in centuries. Then again, I think the last few centuries have been colder than usual. Ever since the mid-5000s, actually. It must have been a Little Ice Age, or whatever they call it. At any rate, it’s definitely over now. I heard a forecast the other day that said the heat is likely to get a lot worse before it gets better!
Honestly, I’m not sure I can think of a happiest moment. In a life this long, there are tons of happy moments, and they’re all happy in different ways, so it’s hard to rank them. If I really had to pick, then sappy as this sounds, I’d have to go with the first time I kissed a girl. Funny thing is, I don’t remember the girl at all. No idea what she looked like or even what her name was. All I remember is how it felt. I remember the delicious tension of anticipation as I leaned in for the kiss, a sort of pleasant tingly tightness throughout my entire body. And then our lips touched and for one brief, beautiful eternity, all of reality was concentrated on a two-inch strip of soft, pink skin. Afterward, I was smiling for hours, dazed and giddy and buoyant with joy. I’d dreamt of kissing a girl for so long—I was kind of a late bloomer, romantically speaking, though I thought about such things constantly—and now that it had happened, I felt as if I had reached some sort of personal apotheosis, as if I could just die right then.
But then I moved on and discovered sex, and relationships got all weird and complicated. In a way, it was nicer when all there was was kissing.
Your turn. I’ve revealed embarrassing truths about myself and my past. It’s only fair for you to do the same.
And let me know if you decide you want to visit Twai. I can help you work out arrangements at this end. You’re even welcome to stay at my manor. There’s plenty of room. In fact, you can have a whole wing all to yourself!
I hope all is well.
—Reynard