Time passed, and Eos did not bother to check how much of it was going by. He was noticing that as he grew older, a faint aura was growing around him that he could not fully grasp, but one thing it seemed to do was that it made the passage of time nearly meaningless to his mind.
Eos's eyes were growing brighter, and his disposition was becoming more open; it was almost as if the invisible weight of time that all immortals carried was being washed away from his body, making him resemble a bright-eyed youth as time passed.
The older he was, the younger his soul became.
Eos did not fully understand why this was happening to him, but he was almost sure that it was a result of an unknown power born from the mutation of so many impossibilities inside one flesh.
Perhaps this was the direction for his growth as he grew older; Eos would not know; he was the first of his kind, and there was probably not going to ever be anyone like him until the end of all things.
