once upon a time there lived a man who lived at the top of a mountain, whose name only the moon could pronounce. however, in this story, it will be called malachite mountain. the man's name was ezra. except, he wasn't really a man. he was something different, something peculiar. this is the story of the strange constellation that fell into the palms of ezra.
ezra was raised on stories that swam in his ears, told by the always moving winds. they were well spun stories- about the dragons that lived west of him, the serpents that dwelled inside malachite and the skeletons that laid hundreds of feet below the earth. he imagined himself to be the keeper of stories. he was the only one who could understand the wind, anyways. but, he was also the only one of his kind. all of the other creatures that surrounded him were of different shapes, different hearts, different teeth and different souls. ezra understood them all, and they understood him.
malachite mountain was the eldest mountain to exist on the earth. from its roots came rolling waves of younger mountains. as time went by, the young mountains moved further and further away from malachite. malachite saw droughts and floods, wildfires and blizzards. no season was unknown to malachite, and no weather pattern was forgotten. experiences weathered every corner of the old mountain. caves began to take form near the top of malachite and rivers found a way to spill through his core. malachite was alive, a soft hush of breathing against the earth, a landmark to be seen from miles away. malachite stood in solitude, pride, and wonder.
ezra had spent decades studying malachite, sleeping in each of the caves and climbing the heights of each altitude. oxygen was nothing to worry about, since ezra wasn't quite human. ezra carried around a small journal filled with paintings and scribbles of all his findings. truth be told, ezra himself wasn't quite sure why he kept this journal. he was the only one of his kind and the only one who understood the writing. his discoveries could only live on if he were to share them through words with the other creatures that surrounded him.
one day, while sitting at the opening of one of malachite's caves and swinging his legs in the sky, a string of stars fell from the night, falling hard and fast towards ezra. in shock and confusion, he held out his hands, planning to catch the arrangement of stars. it was the oddest of events to happen. how could a constellation fall towards the earth? how could it stay together and why did it go towards ezra and malachite, of all creatures and places? how? why? the questions started to fill in ezra's mind as he braced himself for the stars to collide into him.
they pushed him backwards, ramming him harshly against the inside walls of malachite. even malachite shivered at the impact. strangely enough, the stars were cold. as soon as ezra caught his breath, he realized that they were lighter, smaller, more delicate. ezra watched as the stars adjusted to his palms, still managing to stay in their alignment. "what are you?" ezra whispered under his breath. immediately the stars melted into his hands and spilled over; ezra began to see vibrant colors, he heard malachite's tired breathing and he could taste the ice in the air.
the stars slipped from his fingers and pooled on malachite's surface. little by little, they were absorbed into malachite. ezra laid his ear against the light that was left from the puddle and listened closely. he could hear malachite's thoughts, all of a sudden.
malachite was confused and in awe. malachite felt the stars move inside of him, warm threads of oozing light that tangled into all the places he existed. they whispered little secrets and soaked up all the stories he had lived through. he remembered the time a mother dragon had visited his peak to spend her last days. he remembered when the wolves stayed in one of his caves to escape a storm that lasted five days. he remembered when ezra was first born, wrapped in woven leaves. everything came back to him at once. ezra heard each memory, too.
ezra and malachite were at a loss for words at what the constellation had done- unfolded every story known to malachite. ezra spent the next weeks writing down what had occured in his journal and began to list questions like 'why did the constellation fall?' 'how was it releasing malachite's memories?' 'what did the stars want with malachite?' and so on. there was so much to wonder about.
a month later, as if it had never happened, everything went silent. the stars became quiet. ezra's thoughts hushed. malachite's memories stood still. everything went dark. the sky fell asleep and there was no moon to be seen. ezra and malachite fell into a deep slumber.
their dreams intertwined and malachite looked just like ezra, except much older. ezra walked around the forest showing malachite all the wonders of the earth, while malachite took in every word and expression on ezra's face. malachite was amazed at how much ezra had grown since he had first been born, when the stars had first brought him to malachite...
the next morning, ezra's eyes opened slowly. the first thing he saw was the gold of the sunlight pouring into his cave. he noticed markings on his skin, the constellations glittering on his left wrist. tears filled his eyes as he remembered the dream he shared with malachite-- that he was not alone. the stars had birthed him and given him a place on earth. given him shelter with malachite. malachite… the old mountain he had studied for years and years. his home.