In a cozy alcove hidden behind a waterfall, an engraved stone tablet reads:
"Two hearts carved of dusk and dawn, once bound, now torn apart.
One heart gave flame to stone, one heart gave stone to guard.
When silence claimed the world they saved, one stayed to watch the scar."
The alcove hums with quiet mist, droplets tracing the worn runes as if remembering the story themselves. Before the tablet stands a kiamara weathered by time: cracked fur cloaked in moss, eyes dim but never closing. His gaze never strays from the statue before him: a hero in frozen grace, marble veins faintly threaded with the shimmer of a soul once aflame.
Long ago, that statue had moved, had spoken, had laughed. Together, they had stood against the tide of war, stone and flesh, bound by vow and sorrow. When the final blow came, his lover offered everything, heart and spirit poured into the guardian’s core.
Now, the world has forgotten their names. Only the waterfall remembers, its endless song echoing his vigil. And so he waits through seasons, through centuries guarding the one who once guarded all, hoping the stone will stir again, just once, to call his name.
khaotic Staff Member
In a cozy alcove hidden behind a waterfall, an engraved stone tablet reads:
"Two hearts carved of dusk and dawn, once bound, now torn apart.
One heart gave flame to stone, one heart gave stone to guard.
When silence claimed the world they saved, one stayed to watch the scar."
The alcove hums with quiet mist, droplets tracing the worn runes as if remembering the story themselves. Before the tablet stands a kiamara weathered by time: cracked fur cloaked in moss, eyes dim but never closing. His gaze never strays from the statue before him: a hero in frozen grace, marble veins faintly threaded with the shimmer of a soul once aflame.
Long ago, that statue had moved, had spoken, had laughed. Together, they had stood against the tide of war, stone and flesh, bound by vow and sorrow. When the final blow came, his lover offered everything, heart and spirit poured into the guardian’s core.
Now, the world has forgotten their names. Only the waterfall remembers, its endless song echoing his vigil. And so he waits through seasons, through centuries guarding the one who once guarded all, hoping the stone will stir again, just once, to call his name.
(200/200 words)
2025-11-01 01:15:23
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