The First Tale of the Dying Soul of Tashi Def - Chapter 1.2


    Drakos nudged me, shaking off the snow and the strange abilities bestowed upon him by the avalanche, just as the Celestial Jade Dragon pierced a hole through the skies.


    "That dragon," Drakos muttered, his voice low and gravelly, still unfamiliar to both of us after his newfound ability to speak. "It left something... in me." He flicked his tail, as though testing its strength.


    I stared at him, stunned. "You can talk?"


    "Apparently." Drakos tilted his head, snow falling from his ears. "But don’t get used to it. I prefer the quiet."


    Master, unfazed as always, simply chuckled. "The elements work in strange ways, my friend. If the Jade Dragon chose you, it is for a reason."


    Drakos let out a huff. "Great. No pressure, then."


    And then, somehow, I witnessed the glittering map melding with Drakos, the skies, and CJ Dragon, though I couldn''t begin to explain it.


    Meanwhile, Master resumed his lesson, as if an avalanche and a celestial dragon were just minor inconveniences.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “To the best of your memory,” he said, turning to me with a stern gaze, “what are the four elements?”


    I hesitated. "Earth represents solidity; water, fluidity; fire, heat; and wind..."


    "The movement of consciousness," Drakos finished for me, his tone laced with sarcasm.


    "See? I’ve been paying attention."


    Master nodded approvingly. "Perhaps there’s hope for you yet."


    Somehow, we survived the avalanche. The weight of the moment settled over me, and I glanced at Drakos. "I’ll try to explain all of this someday. The dragon, the elements, the avalanche—everything."


    Drakos rolled his eyes. "Just make it a good story. Death, after all, tells the best ones."


    Tales dear to the heart, even.


    Today, after crossing the icy mountains to attend to Tashi Def, I realized my master seemed like an extraordinarily knowledgeable Mantra guru for the dead. In my little brain, though, I wondered how his knowledge would help with anything at all—with life, with death, with everything we exist amidst.


    I reckoned that we are all made up of these elements. Yet the hard part was understanding how solidity, feeling, thinking, and acting are intertwined with them.


    Even if I understood, how would they matter to Tashi Def? —Or to my beloved deceased father? To my surviving mother, grandmother, and siblings?


    I should have been mindful: “Not to be self-absorbed.” But then… what about me?


    I didn’t even know how to pose proper questions? Questions I should have learned to ask long ago.


    Can you understand why this felt like a re-enactment of something greater?


    If not, let me tell you the paradoxical truth: dead men tell the best tales.