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To be eternal was an existence of solitude. What they had could not be called life in any capacity, for it was truly everything but. Immortals, but not gods, at least not in the sense that mortals tended to think of them. Omnipresent, omnipotent.
Yet Life’s gentle touch was limited only to creation, and Death did not meddle in mortal affairs until it was time for someone to pass away. They did not have any grand powers, the two of them, more concepts than people, formless and vague.
Two birds of a feather, sides of the same coin, Life and Death rarely ever crossed eyes, stray touches only shared when Death was trying to bring some desperate human home but the mortals were fighting -literally for their lives- to keep her touch away.
Long ago, so long that no rock, no history book or flowing stream was old enough to remember, they had both learned that it was best to be alone.
They did not know who had taught them that lesson, for there had never truly been anyone but them, and they knew nothing of its origins.
Yet they stuck to it, Life held back by her respect for her counterpart, Death intimidated, nearly scared, of Life.
But as the centuries went on, one stray glance every once in a while was enough. To be eternal was to be lonely, and to be lonely was to miss something they had never known they had lost in the first place.
So Death started looking forward to her meetings with Life, pulling at living souls more often, trying to force them close enough to her realm that she might see her friend again when they fought back.
It felt like an eternity until they first exchanged words, yet for an immortal an eternity is truly no time at all.
So when Life finally looked Death in the eye and whispered "You need to stop doing this.", she didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.
The change has been obvious, over the last centuries. Life had rarely had to fight Death when they were younger, as much as they could have been younger if they didn’t age, both of them careful to only claim those mortals for their own that truly belonged to them.
Life did not fault Death for stealing away her creations, Death did not think Life weak for her fragility. There had always been a mutual respect between the two, only broken when one of them had impulsively, selfishly decided she didn’t want to be alone.
"I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk to you. Have you not been alone in eternity too?"
Life looked directly at her for the first time, though how that was possible when neither of them had a physical form, she was not sure.
"We’re made for solitude. This is what makes our existence."
Death sighed, sorrow clear in her voice as she slowly asked "but does it have to be?"
Had they been human, they might have reached their hands to touch one another, but they both knew too well that two opposites like them may never collide.
"Maybe, but I don’t want it to be like that. Not anymore."
"We have an eternity to spend, might as well break the rules if we don’t even know who set them."
An artist might have watched their interaction and seen two beings, holding each other gently, foreheads rested together as for the first time in their existence they weren’t alone.
It was a curse, to spend an eternity with someone you were doomed to never touch. But maybe, some day, they might break another rule. The end of the world seemed a small price to pay for an immortal.