It should have been clear from the start— he should have realized that nothing lasted forever. Anger didn't last forever, grudges faded, and even those loved ones, those who had forgiven him would fade. So maybe she had chosen Pazu in the end, but he wanted her to be happy. So he remained silent, and only told her that he was there if she needed him. And he watched them grow up, he watched as they started a family— He watched as Pazu forgave him, as he spent time with them as life went on. And as the years passed, as Sheeta gave birth to a beautiful daughter, a girl who radiated her mother's kindness and her father's curiosity— years passed and he watched them change.
Ten years passed, and the little girl was about six years of age. Ten years and Sheeta and Pazu had clearly grown up, but Muska never changed. Golden eyes stared out at the world, watching as people changed and grew— no matter how many years passed, he remained constant. Never aging, never a silver lock in that golden hair of his— Never tiring in form, never falling ill. And he wanted to believe that those he cared for would be like that too. But the world always had given him rude awakenings.
And thus, he received one— It was late June, and Sheeta was in her sixtieth year. It was a simple cough at first, and Muska thought nothing of it. Even at sixty, Sheeta was still beautiful— sure, she had aged, but she looked beautiful nonetheless. Chocolate hair had started to turn a snow-white, and silver eyes reflected worldly wisdom. Pazu had passed away a few years before, but Sheeta had told Muska that he went on a journey of some sort. And in the back of his mind, he knew what had really happened. But he denied it. Sheeta's daughter was in her mid-life, and still, the King never wanted to realize what was happening. And days passed as that simple cough became so much worse. And he sat there with her, holding her when she fell into that endless slumber. He buried her under a great tree that grew in the back-yard of the home she had lived in with Pazu. He stood there for hours, tears never ceasing. And he returned to his life of solitude, every day waiting.
He watched Sheeta's daughter and her descendants, he watched as the world advanced and fell and advanced again, and every day he wondered when that day would come where he would wake to an eternal garden. A day where he'd see Sheeta waiting for him, pulling him to the warmth of the light. He found that he even wanted to see Pazu. Or Dola. Anyone. And he'd fall asleep alone, night after night, wondering when he'd find that Elisium and return to them.
So he watched as the world fell to ruin, as technology ravaged the once pure ground. And still, he waited for Elisium.
But it never was.