Love for the Deathless

When I first laid eyes on her we were but cavemen. Neanderthals ignorant to the dangers of the world, and to love. We were born in the early embers of an unforgiving Earth. Survival took precedence over any matters of the heart, and I had not yet learned to communicate the depth of my yearning. The ice age came and froze my affections before they ever truly blossomed. I kept it close, and quiet; the thought of her was enough to keep me warm. The world thawed and we were separated.

Our next encounter was in Egypt, she a pharaoh and me a humble scholar in her employment. Our eyes met many times in the heat of the desert, but never our bodies and certainly not our hearts. We each knew who and what the other was, but it was our secret to hold. They built monuments to her radiance, and I would have too if she commanded. She ruled their world, and mine.

Whether it was Rome or Greece we next met I can not recall. I grow forgetful of dates and exact locations in my antiquity. What I do remember is the warmth of her smile, and the sweet honey hues of her eyes that remained unchanged all these years. She was more statuesque than anything cut from marble along the Mediterranean Sea, more picturesque than the famous fresco that would eventually hang overhead in the Sistine Chapel. Many great minds of the age dedicated their time to intellectual pursuits, while I taught myself to know her. More than beauty she was grace, she was intellect, she was power.

We all know of the great battles fought for power in the now labeled “Three Kingdoms” era of China, but no record tells of how men flocked to these armies for the simple promise of seeing her. Many great lords sought to court her, but none could capture the heart of the evergreen woman. The pursuit of her built dynasties, and toppled empires.

There are said to exist innumerable lavish tapestries dating back to the middle ages that detail the story of brave knights fighting for her favor. Embellished tales of her being locked away in some high tower, guarded by marvelously scaled fire breathing lizards. Her glory birthed these legends. The truth of it is that I was one such knight. Clad in armor and mounted atop a steed I rode into battle for her time and time again. No scaled beasts, just men seeking to claim what was not theirs. Each time I returned to a new token of her affection. It had taken several lifetimes, but she had finally understood the extent of my desire. Still this was not enough to prevent my princess from escaping yet again.

With her gone I scoured new lands aboard Viking ships seeking to behold her majesty once more. My fellow oarsmen raided in hopes of obtaining riches, ignorant to the true treasure of her love. No Celtic rune could offer the same strength and courage as knowing she awaited me somewhere out there. She was my Valkyrie and Valhalla; something very few understood.

Men marched for the love of their God, but I only for the love of her. The crusades shook many men’s devotion, but never mine. I stood fast in my devoutness throughout the wars, knowing it would carry me to salvation. Her love was like God, all powerful and ever present. It carried me through all nine circles of hell and finally into her arms.

I found my way to her in the East, and for a while we were at peace. We wed in the season of the cherry blossom, and enjoyed bliss for a while. Nobunaga’s ambition to unify Japan brought an end to our peaceful days. The war eventually reached our home, and I took up the way of the warrior to defend it. Katana in hand I fought not for unification, nor peace, but for love. We soon learned the days of the samurai were numbered, as was our time in the East.

Some time later the era now known as the renaissance brought new ways of thinking into the world. My enlightenment came in the form of renewed love and admiration. While she adored the works of young Da Vinci, and Michelangelo, my focus remained true. I had pined for her affection since the dawn of time, but I had yet to learn the depth of who she was. I would have to learn to love her for who she was, and not the image conjured in my mind all those years ago. I had thought her a domineering queen, a fearless pioneer, a prize to be won, and she was all these things, and so much more. I learned her laughter began soft and grew hearty when her composure fled. She could still have delicate moments of innocence in her sempiternal life. Her years had molded her to be fair and just when possible, and to be stone-fisted when necessary. She was not the perfect image that time had carved into my mind, but in that was her perfection. She taught these ancient eyes to see the world anew. The artists and scholars of the time struggled to grasp knowledge and art nearly lost to the world; concepts that my love and I had already understood, and studied in our more youthful days. In a way I was similar to those men.

In time the false discovery of the Americas led the mortal men into a new age of exploration. We too eventually found ourselves aboard a ship to the new world. We stand here today on the eve of another era of our lives. Even now in a world of uncertainty she remains my constant. We’ve traveled the world countless times over, seen the rise and fall of civilizations, lived longer than mortal men could dare dream, and still her embrace is fresh. If any in the future find this chronicle, know that our love has persisted. She will shepherd me into the future, and I will carry her until eternity.