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The glimpses he sees of them through the divine gate at their beginning fascinate him.
Theirs is a love first forged in fire. Kindled in the heat of battle. It’s to be tempered like the finest steel, surviving the wars in the world and inside themselves. He can see that in their future.
It is by its nature malleable, never brittle. It can not crack or be broken.
The fire is why they came to his attention in the first place. She’s without anything to believe in, and he’s given up on gods, but they burn so brightly for each other. It warms the god of light to see such bright love.
He watches as their lives move so fast that after a time of foolishness they learn to seize every second of peace the world allows. They are ready to make the most of them when those moments present themselves.
Intense and searing at the start, it eventually calms to a steady ever-burning fire that never shows signs of extinguishing.
A lesson learned to not take the other for granted, the past and the many chances they've been given never that far away from their minds.
Both understanding this in ways so few can comprehend.
An ancient tomb that could have so easily become her own resting place.
A glittering shore where his inventions were turned against them, those scars never quite fade.
Ash and soot everywhere but she's on the ground, frozen with poison-filled lungs.
Antithesis of life, he's gutted on an isle holding so many dark forgotten secrets.
Air and life, taken from her on top of a ruined tower of obsidian.
Sorrow and loss something they’ve been able to bond over, almost as connecting as the victories shared.
They survive everything the world sends them and are stronger for it, growing together, their love ever burning.
Learning to live in the peace they helped to create is difficult but they manage. Finding purpose in the work they do, the home they share, in each other, in the children they bring into the world together.
They help to heal the scars left over by their own upbringings together, promising to each other that their children would never wonder or doubt if they are loved or wanted. Affection pours out of them for their children; they create a home that is warm, loving, and safe.
Their children learn to love in their reflection, unwilling to settle for anything less real, most go looking for it and find it where they least expect it to be.
As a whole their lives are good.
He lives long enough to die as someone else, and that is how he is remembered, the person he became. A legacy worth living to create.
She lives long enough to defeat all her self-doubt and to heal herself of the past. Blood matters only in that it continues on after her.
They needn’t worry about their beyond, while he may not have faith in any god, he gives his faith to her entirely so like all his family before him; he finds himself in the Blessed Fields when his time comes. The darkness tries to claim him snuffed out with a small amount of divine intervention he’s never told about. What is a shadow in the presence of the god of light?
He has to wait for her for what only seems like a minute even though she lived to her own natural end. Joyful tears in her eyes wiped away before a kiss, while his continue to fall. A happy bear interrupts them when they take too long, tackling him to the ground in excitement.
Leaving his golden realm for others controlled by the other friendly deities is possible for them as long as they find home in the fields and with each other. They are truly blessed, these powers granted to them and their friends because of their deeds done in life.
His peace is found in a godly forge in the Fortress of the Sun easily creating the gold fastenings for the barrels and baskets used in the endless orchard, etching in the cooling metal celestial runes. Life, growth, light, protection, most pieces have one or two, the basket he makes for her has all four. The ingenuity of a madman is unnecessary in this work.
The place she chooses for herself is out in the forest orchard picking fruit, along with her bear and the rest of his family around her. She gets to know them and is truly embraced. Her time picking is rarely interrupted in her duties as one of his champions. A god needs occasionally the wisdom and advice of mortals for that is what all his champions once were.
They find real rest here.
He renewed the grace of his blessings upon Whitestone the day she was rebirthed his champion, at the same time bestowing on all of their line a commitment of protection which will continue on as long as he has power and they remain good.
The Knowing Bard writes it all, in every form possible, while the Tempest passes on her wisdom, retelling the story of her family often.
Their life together continues to be remembered long after they’ve gone on. So he was not wrong to say that he lives as long as Whitestone lives but she’s joined him in that state. They live as long as Whitestone lives.
Generations pass and all speak of them with the true knowledge of their actions, their heroism, their love.
Their names shouted as one in a war cry during battle in defense of their city, which invokes for a moment a measure of protection to the warriors that fight in their spirit. Then when all is calm, their names gently spoken together as blessings and prayers for good health, true love, and a life well lived to couples brought together in their city. These sentiments extended to children newly born.
They live on in the story of their life, in the city they saved from ruin, and in the blood of the line they first began together, while the fire of their love carries on throughout their eternal lives.