A Piece of Eden

He let go of her hand, and never held it again.

Parted, to never meet again. The moment they had shared was the only thing they had of each other, nothing more did they have. No token or symbol of affection did they leave with each other. No memento. Torn, and drifting apart still as time flows and space expands, carrying them further away.

Yet even apart they were together still. In a way so peculiar and unexpected. For time is a flat circle and what has happened once will happen again and again. So in a moment frozen in time, he would kiss her for the first time. Many times over. His little piece of Eden in the continuum of time, ripped apart from the fabric of space. For them and only them.

It will play out over and over. Yet each time the kiss, it would be more magical than before. Which is not meant to be, for time is not to be altered. But she is a goddess and rules don’t apply to her, and by her to him.

She will make him swoon as her lips brush on top of his, tingling them, and a magical ecstasy will be woven with the dance they play out as they mingle, not knowing where one starts and the other ends. And he will hold her close against him, locked in an everlasting embrace, for time is a flat circle.

Years later he will visit this memory in his head. Perfectly persevered down to the last freckle on her nose. She will be there in person, with a smile that pales Elune’s, for rules don’t apply to her.

And when he says the words to her, “Dareth shiral, ma vhenan.” (Farewell, my heart.)

She will hear his sweet goodbye every time.

In turn she will echo a prayer, and he will call it out from memory. “Telandas, emma lath.” (Nothing is inevitable, my love.)

So that they meet again, and their moment encompasses eternity itself and becomes more.

“Mar ghilana mir din’an.”

(Guide me into death.)

And if the gods are truly benevolent, her prayer will be heard.

So that life will no longer hold apart what death can join.