Be still my beating heart, compete not with spring on blossoming forth; For what remains of every shred of longing, is a mere disheartened, ashen core.

***

A brief glimpse over a thousand years ago, in exchange for a thousand years of love and suffering. When they reunited a thousand years later, it was still him, but he was no longer the same person. Should he let this love fade and turn to ashes, or let fate decide its course?