Love burns brighter than the stars when the only option left is to wait.

Chris flips through the photo album, his gaze resting on a black and white photo with the corners crumpled or missing. His eyes slide over your face and the wide grin across your teeth. He looks at your picture as if for the first time, though Chris has returned to it an infinite number of times over the last century.

He would have wanted to make it to the end, if it weren't for the cursed immortality and the internal duty to continue to protect his land.

His Eternity was the fifty years he shared with you.

He watched you go up, fall to the bottom, and rise again. He watched your pregnancy, saw your happy face at the sight of your children. He has, gritting his teeth, watched you grow old, covered in wrinkles but never losing your kind brown eyes. He's seen you die. He has seen your children grow old and die.

The Archon is left alone.

The contract that ends all contracts is to give up the Eye of God, but remain with an eternal soul.

Is that what he wants?

You promised him you'd come back to him in another life, and he promised to wait for you.

Chris is closing the photo album when a maid enters the study with a knock and informs him that a stranger wishes to see him. He nods understandingly and gets up from his chair.

A moment later, the former Geo Archon steps out onto the porch and a faint breeze hits his face, ruffling his short hair. He sees a female form rise from the bench and turn to face him.

From afar, Chris sees the same native brown eyes, already belonging to another life, another body, another soul, but the same person.

"I've been waiting for you, love," Chris utters, and a faint warm smile appears on his face.