They were a good pair, who loved each other so. She came from far away, from a land where she was blessed enough to have everything she needed and more. He came from nowhere, wandered the earth alone for most of his early life, and had nothing but the clothes on his back. They met by accident, by fate. And so did we meet them, in that same way.
The more we traveled together, the more obvious it became that they had fallen in love. The pair were stubborn to the bone, but also inseparable. They could never stay away from each other for very long, even in disagreement; they would reunite and continue, putting trouble behind them, piece by piece. He followed her home many, many times, and she returned to his side even when she thought she could not.
The day we accomplished what we had been struggling to achieve, she went home… And did not return to us. He could not follow, for the path was blocked. Neither could she come back to him, though both wondered after each other. Both sat under the same tree, expanded across time, acting like a bridge, where they could meet in their hearts and feel the other's presence.
This carried on for a few years. For us, they were short, as we had found our lives and our world, and carried on. For them, they were long and agonizing. We watched him waiting, watching, hoping, every day. We watched him fight the possibility that she may never return.
One day, though, one very special day, he sensed her here. He ran, and we followed, and there she was. In the past, we knew, they had taken it for granted that they could see each other whenever they chose, they had held on to small grudges that on this day meant nothing. Every angry word, every mistaken assumption, every tear she had shed and every bit of dirt he had punched- all was forgiven, forgotten, and not allowed to darken their path any longer.
The years passed. They watched carefully over our families and protected us. He preferred to protect her at all costs, but she would do nothing less than fight at his side- or even to stand in front of him, to be his protector when he needed her to be. Comparably, where she came from, she had lived like a princess, but she never complained that their home was small, that they had no money, that they could not have children. She never complained that she could never visit the family she had left behind, though we knew they held a place in her heart. He treasured everything about her, every minute they spent together. She became a teacher for the younger villagers, and he often helped with work in the fields.
Because they were well known to be our protectors, two generations passed in our village before it was attacked. He and she were old now, but more agile than the rest of us. They fought well, as they always had, striving to protect our little village. It was because of them, in the end, that our village was saved, but at our great price.
Both he and she were severely weakened from this battle, and were blessed to be able to say our goodbyes, and to watch them say theirs. I have wondered, in my age, whether they chose to let go together at that moment. I think she could have healed over time, and I am certain that he could have. I have wondered whether they simply chose to go together so that they wouldn't have to spend another day apart.
We buried them side by side, near the tree that held their worlds together. They wished everything they owned to go to a young child in our village that we have since discovered to have a strange, powerful line, similar to his. They must have known, must have realized he was at risk of being an outcast. They entrusted to him the shrine they maintained, the small hut, and the small amount of land surrounding, on which they are buried.
Every new moon, we celebrate their lives, and send prayers and wishes to wherever they may be. It was only on the most recent new moon that the village brought in marble stones crafted just for each of them. There is a beautiful design of their tree's branches running over the stones in a way that looks as though the stones were originally carved while together, broken apart now but still connected by the tree, and on them are written their names and a few wise words each used to give. Their story will live on forever, and even so, it will live on with us. And their love will live on forever, beyond even the end of time.