Author's Note: Hello Winter Oak and MimiZ! Thank you for your reviews, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far!

We meet at the lighthouse in the late spring. I confess to her my true nature as an immortal astrologer while we sit on the shoreline, feet in the warm sand as we watch the ebb and flow of the tide. She listens intently and, although she seems surprised, she does not question such an outrageous claim, asserting that she has been witness to many magical occurrences during this current lifetime.

"Witches and wizards don't tell people their names... it is said that those who know your name... can control you," nervousness overcomes my otherwise calm and collected demeanor as my words begin to quiver, "but I want you... to know my name... If you have feelings for me... I want to share it with you."

Though my feelings for her had never been forgotten, it was hard to face the fact that she had forgotten the feelings she had once harbored for me in that time long ago. But was love so easily forgotten? Why do we confess our love eternally if it can so easily be lost to time?

"I do have feelings for you," she replies rather bluntly, a trait of hers that had persisted from her past self, "and I would love to know your name if you trust me enough to tell me."

"You're the only living human that will know my name." She looks at me strangely, detecting the allusion in my words.

"Can I ask who else has known your name?"

"I think... that's enough... for now," I fight the urge to divulge too much to her at one time, reminding myself that the truth will need to be revealed to her in the right way, at the right time, "I will tell you my name... when we swear our love." My breath caught in disbelief as she began to laugh.

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

"No..." astonishment replaces her amused expression as I answer genuinely, "but if you were to ask me... I would say yes."

There is a long moment of silence as she pulls her gaze away from mine.

"I need to think about all this," she says as she stands up abruptly, dusting the sand from her clothes. Though I am unable to read the subtleties of body language in the current age, I can read her intentions with my heightened emotional perceptions, and I become frightened to feel her pulling away from me.

Had I waited lifetimes to see her again only to lose her once more?

I walk home hours later, passing the townsfolk along the way, their faces resembling faces from my past on the islands with her. People I had watched live and die too many times. Was I wrong? Perhaps in my prolonged lifespan as a recluse I had turned mad; perhaps these were not the reincarnations of the people I had known from long ago as I had come to believe. Had my heart held the sadness of my past for too long? Had I missed Akari so much that I led myself to falsely believe that Angela was her reincarnation?

But if it were not true, if our souls were not reincarnated to live again in a new body, then the past could not be undone. I had hoped so much to undo the past that I had lost sight of the fact that I did not know the true nature of the universe; when people die, perhaps they are truly gone from this world. Tears stream down my face, for if this is true then Akari has not been reborn as Angela and I will never see her again. And if I never see her again then my only wish is to pass away and be with her, wherever it is that those who pass away from this Earth go. But I am denied even that for I am immortal and without her I have no hope of leaving this world.

Spring blossoms into summer, yet I remain the same. Unchanged; just as I have for many, many seasons. Everyone and everything is full of life except for me. To be full of life requires the recognition of your inevitable death. If our lives were endless, there would be no point in it all. Thus is my condition. Without the promise of death, I cannot truly live.

Consumed with despair, I remained locked in my quarters as I had for the most of the spring season. Every few days there had been a knock on my door, usually in the early evening hours. I knew who it was. But I did not answer.

Dreams. Vivid memories? Sometimes nightmares. Unforgettable moments? The clashing of the waves. Stormy weather ahead. Darkness. Her voice. I drift away. She begs me to stay. She swears to the stars. The infinite sky bears witness to her as she proclaims my name—

As she proclaims my curse.

"Gale...

Come back to me!

I want to see you again!"

The inauspicious stars shifted at that moment, their alignments now altered, their pattern in the sky rearranged. The wind carries her voice high into the clouds, swirling around me as the boat sets out to sea. Tears stream down her face as I leave her.

Her; my beautiful Akari.

I fought to get back to her. With every bit of strength in my being, I vowed to see her once more, but our fate could not be changed. Not even by magic could we hope to see each other again in that lifetime. The sands of time hung in suspended animation as she, the only mortal who knew my name, the only human to undo my curse, died. When I returned to our island she had already left that world, her wish unfulfilled. How? She had said my name, I was bound to her words, but still she was gone. She was gone and I never saw her again. And she never saw me again.

The days passed by but I remained the same. Eventually, my friends grew to look older than me. They died one by one as I remained, looking down upon their old, wrinkled faces with eyes still as young and bright as the day I first met them. Babies were born, they lived and died, again and again. I had to leave my island, for my eternally youthful appearance began to draw too much negative attention. I was feared for my inability to age, some people thought I had sold my soul to the devil in exchange for immortality. Even I was not truly aware of the cause of my condition. But the generations passed by me, yet, I remained unchanged. No longer did I age—no longer was I limited as other men were. I was no longer mortal. I was no longer human, either.

But there was still hope.

I hoped that my immortal state was to allow her wish to be fulfilled; that she would be reborn and we would see each other once more. I traveled the world for ages, looking at every beautiful face only to be saddened when it was not hers.

I detached myself. The human heart can only bear so much sadness, so it is a blessing that we will one day pass away to be relieved of our suffering and our loss of those whom we love. I began to believe that I would never find Akari, so I removed myself from society and committed to a life of solitude. I could not bear to become attached to anyone else for I knew that they would leave me and I did not have even the hope of seeing them again. I remember looking back at a younger me with bitterness; a boy who once wished for immortality so that he could gain all the knowledge in the world. So that he could never run out of time to look up at the stars. Oh, the irony! Now, I have infinite time to look up at the deceivingly eternal stars, and when I do they mock me. The first time I witnessed the death of a star I knew right then that my condition was indeed a curse; for one day all the stars would die and there would be nothing left but me, alone in the darkness.

After achieving most all of the goals I had once dreamed of as a young boy, I found my way back to the islands and settled in Harmonica Town, on the Isle of Castanet a few centuries later. Settling there seemed an appropriate punishment for my condition, as I could look out to see our Tuscan island on a clear day. That way, I could never, ever forget my curse. I needed to be constantly reminded that there was no use in talking to others, for they would just be torn away from me and I would be forced to watch everyone I love die over and over again.

But one day, on a fateful spring breeze, she appeared.

I was aghast at first. It had been hundreds of years since I had last seen Akari and, though I had committed her image to my memory, it had still faded time. But when I saw Angela I thought the gods were truly punishing me. Perhaps, they were toying with me; I wondered if they were actually devils who were entertained by my torture. She walks like Akari, she talks like Akari. Her eyes are the same dazzling furry of smoky quartz and citrine, electric like a tropical storm pulling down all the stars into the ocean. She even smells like Akari.

But she is Angela.

When I first saw her, I wanted to run to her. Hold her. I wanted to cry out to the heavens and vow to never leave her again. But I refrained and, at first, I kept my distance from her because she did not seem to remember me. But despite my intention to not grow close to her, she seemed to seek me out deliberately. Our paths continuously cross, and she constantly says things that lead me to believe that she is truly the reincarnation of my beloved Akari. Slowly, I have allowed myself to grow close to her. She gives me hope—hope that perhaps her wish is being granted, albeit in a different way than she had intended.