WAITING
The Breath of Time
The Hall of Art carried the scent
of sun-warmed wood and ancient resin.
Silence filled the space
like slow honey.
Auryn arrived first.
He stopped so suddenly
that his scales chimed.
“Look! They’re melting! They’re dripping away!”
He pointed at golden clocks.
Not stiff. Not tight.
Just… soft.
One draped itself along the branch of a dry tree,
like warm wax.
Espheris stepped closer.
He tilted his head.
“It’s not slipping. It’s bending.
Look how it follows the branch.”
Cineris took a step back.
“Then it will fall.”
Pyrion lowered his wings.
“And when it falls… does time end?”
Azhuris stayed still.
Then he spoke softly.
“Look again.”
Silence returned.
All eyes fixed on the clock.
It bent… but did not fall.
It rested on the branch,
like a blanket placed there with care.
“It’s waiting…” Auryn whispered.
Espheris nodded.
“Is it a kind of waiting that melts time?”
Scriptorath watched the painting a moment longer.
“The one who painted this” he said,
“saw time in a different way.”
He turned his gaze to the young dragons.
“He imagined a time less strict…”
“And the clock became soft.”
He came to stand beside them.
“Waiting is this: staying ready,
until the right moment arrives.”
Auryn took a small breath.
This time, he did not run to another painting.
He remained in front of the clock,
without moving.
And for the first time,
it no longer felt like time was slipping away.
Dragon Lexicon
Waiting (draconic noun)
Holding: staying in your place without scattering.
Test: continuing even when nothing seems to change.
Form: what arrives when everything is ready.
Archivist’s Note
In the Calendar of Mists, it is said that many young apprentices once measured time only by the tower bells.
They knew when to begin.
They knew when to end.
But one day, one of them stood before a painting longer than expected.
When he returned, he said only:
“Inside that painting, time was different.”
Since then, the Archive speaks of two kinds of time:
the one that rings…
and the one where you lose yourself just looking.
Dragon Scale
There is a time that does not run,
yet still knows how to arrive,
it stays where it must remain
without being pulled aside.
Who can hold their step in place
will see the quiet signs appear,
not every waiting stays empty…
some bring something near.
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓐𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓻𝔂 💧✨