Author's Note: Yay! Thank you, Winter Oak! I have been looking forward to your response :) I'm glad that you aren't disappointed. Your review was very insightful; I wanted to build Wiz's character in the way that I really picture him, but was afraid it was starting to get a little boring. So, I can certainly make this fluffy, or lemoney-lime (I'm not familiar with a lot of fanfiction terms haha) I'm still editing the final chapters and I can adjust them to your liking! This is your gift so I'll wrap it however you want!
This "chapter" is short as I originally intended this story to be a long one-shot sort of thing, and then I later broke it up into chapters. It just made sense to break it up in this way. Okay, here we go!
We meet a few days later at the church grounds. The weather is unusually warm as the spring season begins to overtake the harsh winter. Her back was towards me, her form carved out against the sunset as she looked towards the sea, the ends of her soft brown hair caught on the wind as it rushed past her... and I am no longer in Castanet, but in another town, in another time. And it was not Angela standing there before me—but, instead, her. I breathe deeply, trying to hold onto the moment, not wanting the vision to go away, but she fades into the sunset and reemerges.
"Angela…" I say as the present time reappears around her, "did you… wait long?"
Her eyes are brighter than the stars of Sirius, and I remember that they always have been.
"I'm not sure. Maybe I have," her words hang heavy in the balmy evening air, and with a smile she adds, "I don't think much about time."
Her response catches me off-guard. Though she has been reborn in a time when magic is not widely practice, or even known, her skills of perception seem to be somewhat retained in this life. Is she aware that we have waited for countless rotations around the sun to see each other once more? Perhaps she is, albeit sub-consciously.
We talk for what would be considered a long time, but to me, it feels like only a few seconds when compared to the time I have spent without her. Our conversation is one we may have had before. I ask her if she likes the stars, hoping that her answer will help me to gauge her level of awareness. She tells me she loves them, though I already know, and she tells me of memories she has gained from this lifetime. I listen intently, curious of where she has been since our last meeting long ago. Sadness overcomes me, for I realize after a while that she does not remember the nights spent lying on the shores of the Tuscan Island with me, her skin darkened from the days we spent under the sun, our bodies entangled during every moment alone. She has forgotten the love we share for one another. The happiness of those days has been lost to her, and I want to cry out in frustration at the heavens, but she would think me a madman for doing so. Although she has forgotten the happiness of our past together, she has also forgotten the pain and sadness of me leaving her, and that fills the emptiness in my heart with a bit of hope. The memory still pains me though, sharp in my mind as if it had happened only yesterday; a necessary punishment for the happy memories I have retained.
Our time together comes to an end once again. I remind myself that it is only temporary this time, though the anguish of a few days without seeing her feels comparable to the centuries I had spent before. I smile inwardly at that revelation, once again recognizing the relative nature of time. Our eyes lock as we say our goodbyes and a moment without words overcomes us. She moves forward and embraces me, her hands pushing under my arms and around my back, her face hidden in my chest. The amethyst twilight shifts suddenly to a crystal blue as the sunlight poured onto us, and the palm trees waved happily as the wind blew around the sands of time. As we pull away, her hands linger on mine, the dusty sky reemerging as the church lights cast their soft, golden glow onto the stones of the plaza.
"Let us meet again... at the lighthouse?"
Her lips part slightly as she searches for an answer, and I fight the urge to meet mine with them—to feel their softness again. But I know it is not appropriate. I know that she does not fully understand the nature of her existence and, if I act in haste, I will surely push her away from me.
"Mm... sure! But I've got some work to do before the Animal Festival, so I'll be a little busy these next few days," my heart sinks but she continues, "but after that I'll be free!"
Patiently, I had been counting the stars. One by one, I waited until the day that our stars would align and we would meet again. The day that would mark the end of my existence without her. That time had now come, but I did not realize that I was counting the stars too quickly.
