They sailed under the night sky, ablaze with stars, their second constant in an ever-changing world. The ancient Greeks had gazed upon these same stars, shared their names with the constellations. Explorers throughout the ages had steered their course using these same beacons of light, poets struggled, died, to capture them in verse, playwrights spoke of star-crossed lovers, fates and futures written in the stars.

The capricious sea they drifted on reflected the never-ending cosmos above, while below, two lovers made languid love, baptizing their newly-christened boat, eyes locked, the forever they found in each other mirroring their true constant.

"Penny for your thoughts, Will."

"I was wondering..."

"About what?"

"Revolutions. You think this one will be different?"

"Hard to say. Historically speaking, success being spotty at best… Seems men rarely get what they fight for."

"Still, you're willing to help this revolution."

"No, luv. Just the common man."

"Revolutions are made up of common men."

"Exactly. Something we best never forget."

"Will you go back, when it's all over?"

"Dunno. Might find me another berth."

"Or another revolution."

"No. Was thinkin' of something less populated."

"Less bloody."

"Well, more… private-like at least."

"I'd like that."

"I thought you might."

They'd weathered many revolutions in their days, from the Industrial Revolution to the myriad of countries vying for their freedom. Their world changed around them, but still the earth revolved around the sun, turning days into nights, seasons into years, cycling through their lives.

And through it all flows time's constant stream, with its various pains and pleasures, boredoms and enlightenments, and seemingly timeless ecstasies. And though, for most, this constant flux of time was one of perpetual perishing, for them, time was an illusion, and eternity their only reality.

For these two immortal Captains, eternity was an everlasting present.