Centuries

Sage has been around far longer than those around them. They had seen things others could only dream of. More often than not they wished their memories were purely that. Dreams. Things they’d conjured up during the brief periods in time when they were able to rest. To simply close their eyes and drift.

Except they couldn’t drift. Quite the opposite actually. They had been rooted in this exact spot since the beginning of time. Sage has witnessed many things. They had seen generations grow up and die; they had seen eras pass by faster than they could comprehend. After a time, everything begun blurring together. That was the price of immortality. That was the price Sage had to pay for merely existing.

The world around them has changed considerably in the past two centuries. Too much in Sage’s humble opinion. The people around them no longer seemed interested in anything other than the glowing squares in their hands, they drifted by without a second glance in their direction. Sage was utterly alone for the first time in their exceedingly long life.

The last person they were able to consider a friend was long gone. They had been alone before she started visiting them during the mid-1800s – such a long time ago. They remembered Victoria quite clearly. She had been a breath of fresh air even back then. She was unbothered by the odd looks she got when she sat underneath Sage’s mighty canopy, seeking their shade. She had been quite the character, reading to them from science journals as well as poetry books. Victoria was a kind and gentle soul, interested in the beauty the world had to offer. She didn’t look inward as most creatures of her kind did – their blindness had always irritated Sage – no, her gaze always turned outward, taking in the universe all at once. She was wise beyond her meager years, gone too soon. Blinking out of existence.

Before Victoria there had been a few leafless creatures Sage had been fond of. There was Simon a hundred years before Victoria had come along. He was quite the opposite of her. Where Victoria was chatty and amicable, Simon had been closed off and stoic. She had been a poet, writing the most exquisite verses Sage has ever had the pleasure of hearing. Like any good poet she had been desultory in most things, including her visits. She never came at any regular schedule or even at the same time twice.

Simon was always punctual. He came every Wednesday at the exact same time: right after the great bells rang midday. He would sit quietly at the base of their trunk, comfortable in the shades, working quietly on his dissertation. Simon was going to be a professor of physics. Sage didn’t know a whole lot about that particular field of study, but even they could tell that he was going to be magnificent. Simon was going to transform the world.

Their friendship had ended so abruptly. Sage had many splendid years with their Victoria, she came to visit well into her seventies. She had a good and long life; she partook in many great joys, she had a family and a few loves.

Sage – still to this day – wished their Simon could have had that. He had been so young. His life was only just beginning. Naturally, they couldn’t know for certain that he had retired from this world. If it wasn’t for his punctuality – if he was anything like their Vicky – Sage would’ve automatically assumed Simon had forgotten about him. Alas, he was not like that. They had been steadfast in their belief that something atrocious has happened to him since the very first day that he had not come.

In the late 1500s and for most of the 1600s Sage only had acquaintances and not any genuine friends. They had been mourning the loss of their dearest friend Mary. She had also been taken from this world far too soon.

Ever since technology begun advancing at the rapid state it was in now, Sage had become even more lonely. Their heart still ached with the loss of Victoria even after two centuries. They hadn’t become familiar with anyone since her passing. Not that anyone tried to befriend them. The magic of nature had been stripped away from this world long ago. Now, Sage and many of their kind were simply tools. A means to an end. Even if that end was the survival of the human race.

Sage had never been one to pass judgment on others. It simply wasn’t in their nature. Yet nowadays they frequently found themselves wondering if maybe the humans didn’t deserve the end they were speeding towards. The humans as a whole have lost their initial charm and kindness long ago.

They were destroyers, always have been. Since the beginnings of time, they have slaughtered animals for their own gain, cut off Sage’s family to stay warm – even those that weren’t sick – they have butchered each other over what? Territory? Power? Riches? Why couldn’t they simply understand that love was more important than any of those? Why couldn’t they comprehend that kindness and compassion would always be more powerful than violence?

Sage has lost faith in humanity a long time ago. They never thought they would ever be capable to get it back. And yet here they were, peering down at a puny human. The child was barely bigger than Sage’s smallest root – then again, he had been here for thousands of years now.

A single spark could ignite hope within anyone. The biggest things in the universe were built on hope. Sage has long thought themselves incapable of it. They thought the world was inexorable in its cruelty and mistreatment of living beings, being with feelings, dreams and desires of their own.

Sage never would’ve thought that a spark could be a child’s smile.

Their relationship with Albert had always been unusual. With their previous friends they had always been well on their way to adulthood by the time their paths crossed. Albert was a bright-eyed young boy, a child for so long. Yet, he had been everything Sage could hope for.

Sage had never been able to speak like some of their brothers and sisters could. They had always been stoic and unmoving – even when they experienced inexplicable horrors, even when they saw how cruel and unjust the world could really be. They had never before wished for the ability during all their time in this realm, not until they had encountered young Albert.

They didn’t require words to communicate. Albert – entirely on his own – had become someone Sage not only loved, but admired. He had Simon’s razor-sharp wit and keen eye for detail. He had Victoria’s kindhearted nature and chatty personality. He had Mary’s conviction and thirst for justice. He embodied every single good quality Sage’s previous friends had possessed.

Albert frequently spoke of feeling connected to people he had never met, people who had long been gone. He poured over Vicky’s poems under Sage’s shade, memorizing every line, pondering aloud what she might’ve felt when writing. He had studies Simon’s unfinished dissertation for endless hours, improving them to accommodate his modern needs, finishing what the young man could not all those centuries ago. He had practiced his endlessly stirring and rousing speeches for days on end – the ideal successor to Mary’s fire.

He was everything they had been. He was everything good in this world. Albert was exactly what his name suggested noble and bright. Sage couldn’t be prouder to have witnessed him grow into the person he was today.

Somehow Sage has given him a connection to the people that shaped him. They didn’t need to know how, nor did they care. The universe had always worked in mysterious ways that even someone as ancient as they couldn’t hope to comprehend.

“You know,” Albert begins on a stormy day, taking refuge underneath Sage from the downpour of rain. “I think this is my favorite poem.”

The boy clears his throat once, twice, before his steady voice fills the air around them.

“Slowly we wandered, and ever remembering;

Our love was in the shadows of a planet.

Doubting that no other spirit could discover-

Beyond the utterance of the soul that knew you.”

“I shall hope to one day meet the person my heart feels such kindred towards.”

If only Sage could speak to inform the young man that he has already found that person. He had found so many people that shaped his young life – all through Sage. They couldn’t be prouder or feel more accomplished. They had helped a lost soul simply by existing, managed to connect him to those that came before. If only Sage could do the same for more people – maybe the world would be a better place for it.