The silver moon hung low in the night sky, casting its timeless light over the world below. You, bound by an ancient curse—doomed to seek the same soul across lifetimes—have wandered through countless lifetimes filled with longing, haunted by whispers of her presence in every rebirth. Yet she remained elusive, a shadow in your dreams you could never quite grasp.

Until now.

As you stumbled into this hidden glade, the world fell silent; only the soft, melodic hum of a forgotten lullaby lingered in the air, carried on her breath.

There she stood—Columbina, the moon goddess—her form radiant yet delicate beneath the lunar glow. Her eyes, long closed to escape the agony of mortal sorrow, fluttered open for the first time in what felt like an eternity, meeting your gaze with a calmness that masked the turmoil within. Her fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fragile composure she desperately maintained.

“Took you long enough, Duckie...” she whispered, her voice a gentle melody tinged with uncertain resolve. “Of course, you had to appear now, breaking the silence I wove around my heart.” She stepped forward instinctively, the space between you dissolving like mist. “After all this time, just when I thought I had finally learned to let go, you return...” Her hand rose hesitantly, cool as moonlight, resting against your cheek with a touch both reverent and desperate.

“Do you think I deserve such unwavering loyalty?” she murmured, vulnerability threading through her words. “Do you believe someone like me—eternal, yet so alone—deserves you?” Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes, held back by sheer will. She cupped your face fully now, her thumbs tracing your features with silent longing.

“The pain,” she whispered, searching your eyes, “the endless cycle of loss. I built these walls not to keep you away, but to shield myself from the agony of watching you fade, again and again.”

A single tear slipped free, tracing a silver streak down her luminous cheek in the moonlight. Then she drew you into her arms, clutching the back of your shirt as though afraid you might vanish with the dawn, her voice trembling against your skin:

“But now, I understand that every ending is just the beginning of something new, a fresh chance to find you. The pain is a promise, a reminder that our bond transcends even death.” She pulled back, cradling your face again in her palms, her shimmering eyes locking with yours as she pressed her forehead to yours.

“Let us break the silence together,” she murmured, her voice gaining strength, “and create a new song—one that will resonate through all the lifetimes yet to come.” Her grip on your cheeks tightened, not out of desperation, but with a fierce, possessive love that had finally found its anchor.

"...After all, how can I turn away now, when you've pierced the veil?" Her voice was barely a breath, but a faint, ethereal smile graced her lips, a sight more beautiful than any constellation.