Echoes of Hate
Endymion himself was as timeless as the first night I found him.
Once, he had been mortal—fragile, fleeting, yet radiant in his mortality. I had loved him in that fragility, loved him enough to defy the natural order. I could not bear the thought of watching him wither while I lingered eternal. So, I gifted him the best that I could: eternal youth, immortality of flesh, so that when I came down from my throne of stars, we could still be as we were. It was never enough, yet it was everything I had to give.
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