Across Eternities

Etria worked in her grove with slow, deliberate movements, the earthy hum of her domain resonating through her every touch. The deep green canopy overhead filtered Aluren's sunlight, scattering golden motes that danced like living stars. Her fingers brushed the tender shoots of a flowering vine as her thoughts wandered—though not far.

She sensed the presence long before it made itself known, a warmth that wasn't entirely the sun but familiar nonetheless. Glancing upward, she spotted Aluren at the grove's edge. His stance was casual, but the intensity in his gaze gave away the intention behind his visit.

"Your flowers," he said, stepping closer, "always seem to find new ways to reach the light."

Etria straightened, brushing dirt from her hands as she regarded him. "They simply follow the path you provide."

These days, it wasn't unusual for Aluren to visit her realm, though recently, the frequency had increased. She wasn't sure whether it bothered her—or intrigued her.

He offered her a grin, pulling a small, crystalline object from the folds of his robe. Sunlight refracted off its surface, scattering shards of rainbow light across the grove.

"For you," he said. "An idle creation, but I thought it would suit this place."

Etria reached for the gift cautiously, turning it over in her hands. The warmth of the sun seemed to pulse within the crystal, as though it held a tiny fragment of Aluren himself. "It's beautiful," she murmured, her voice quieter than she intended.

For a moment, she hesitated before weaving a quick enchantment. She shaped a pendant from interlocking vines and smooth stone, a small representation of life in perpetual motion. Her hands faltered as she admired it.

But she didn't give it to him. Not yet.

Days passed, and Aluren's visits grew longer. His excuses shifted from monitoring sunlight levels in the grove to idly discussing their roles in the grander design of the Cosmos.

She caught herself watching him when he thought her gaze was elsewhere—admiring the way his golden hair seemed to carry the sun wherever he went, or the laughter in his eyes that contrasted with her quiet calm.

One day, after a long and rambling conversation about the balance between light and growth, he leaned closer. "You don't laugh much," he observed.

"Not all things find cause for laughter," she said, though her tone held a faint smile.

"You should try it." Aluren stepped lightly over her half-formed complaint, leaving her questioning whether his audacity or his charm irritated her more.

In time, his persistence chipped away at her reserve.

When Aluren invited Etria to his realm, she was hesitant. Her grove was her sanctuary, and the idea of venturing into a realm of unyielding light unsettled her. Yet, as much as she hated to admit it, curiosity swayed her.

The Sunlit Skies were just as she had imagined: golden plains that seemed to stretch into infinity, where each blade of grass sparkled like it was kissed by sunlight. Aluren stood in the center, a proud smile lighting his face.

"Your grove softens the harshness of my light," he said as her presence caused blooms to appear where her feet touched. "You make everything seem...gentler."

For the first time, she allowed herself to smile fully, surprising even herself. "Perhaps you simply need balance," she replied, offering him the pendant she had made so long ago.

His expression softened as he accepted it. "You've outdone yourself," he said, fastening the gift around his neck with a reverence that made her stomach flutter.

The warmth between them grew, unspoken yet undeniable, even as mortal prayers began to shift from gratitude to desperate pleas.

---

The day the Cosmos descended began like any other. Etria was in her grove when a chill swept through her vines, and the earth beneath her feet trembled. She rushed outside to find Aluren already standing near her grove, his usually confident demeanor tense.

A shadow coalesced in the sky above them, blotting out Aluren's light. Slowly, it took form—a being of impossible scale and power. The Cosmos loomed over them, faceless yet unbearable to look upon. The earth quaked, and even the strongest trees in Etria's grove bent toward it as though cowed by its presence.

"You have been neglecting your duties," the Cosmos' voice was thunder and whisper at once, echoing in their minds rather than the air. "The balance of realms falters, and mortals cry out."

Aluren stood straighter, defiant even under the weight of its words. "The balance falters because we have seen it through the eyes of the imperfect beings who rely on it. We were...learning."

"Learning to ignore your purpose," the Cosmos shot back. It turned to Etria, its voice quieter but no less harsh. "And you, Goddess of Earth—how do you answer for the rivers that overflow and the crops that wither?"

Etria flinched but met its gaze—or where its gaze should have been. "I—" Her voice wavered, guilt piercing through her. "It is true. We have strayed."

The Cosmos' voice grew colder. "The threads you weave now are perilous. You risk not only the mortal realms but your own essences. Divine bonds have always led to ruin."

Aluren bristled at the warning, his golden light dimming as frustration simmered in his chest. "Perhaps the ruin is worth it," he said softly, the words daring.

---

Long after the Cosmos vanished, its warning lingered between them like a barrier. They resolved to tend to their realms, to undo the damage wrought by their neglect.

But their bond, fragile yet growing stronger with each moment, could not be so easily broken.

Etria watched him retreat to his realm that night, the pendant around his neck glinting in the fading light. The warmth of their connection lingered, even as she wondered how much more they would have to sacrifice in the name of balance.

And deep within her chest, something new and terrifying blossomed. Something she couldn't yet name.