Night fell softly over the valley. The petals no longer drifted lazily but moved in patterns — almost like they were alive, whispering secrets from centuries past.
Sakura sat beside the spiritwalker at the edge of a ruined stone arch, the remains of an old shrine. Moonlight washed over her face, and for a moment, she looked like the goddess she once was — ethereal, distant, untouchable.
> "Every cycle begins with remembrance," she said quietly. "But it always ends with loss."
He turned toward her. "Then maybe we can change that this time."
A faint smile touched her lips. "You said that once before."
He frowned. "I did?"
> "Long ago," she whispered, brushing her fingers against the old, cracked sigil carved into the shrine wall. "In another life, you were a warrior sworn to protect the shrine. You promised me the cycle would end — that I would no longer have to die for the spring to return."
The spiritwalker looked at his hands. Faint light pulsed beneath his skin — the same golden veins that once connected him to her divine essence. "I remember flashes," he said softly. "Your voice in the storm… the scent of blossoms burning."
She nodded. "The gods feared what we were becoming — mortal and divine bound by love. So they fractured me… and scattered you."
The silence that followed was thick with history. The air shimmered faintly — not with magic, but with emotion too deep for words.
Suddenly, the wind shifted. The petals stilled, and the shrine's shadows deepened. From within the stone, a faint hum rose — low and mournful.
> "It's waking," Sakura said, standing quickly. "The Eidolon of the First Bloom."
The air cracked open. From the archway, light spilled forth, forming a figure made of petals and gold — radiant, sorrowful, and immense. Its voice was the sound of wind through blossoms.
> "You have returned, O fallen bloom. Yet still you defy the order."
The spiritwalker stepped forward, instinct guiding him. "She doesn't belong to your cycle anymore."
The Eidolon's gaze fell on him. "And yet you carry her burden. You were never meant to remember, mortal vessel."
The spiritwalker's sigil burned. Pain lanced through him, but he didn't flinch. Sakura reached out, grasping his hand. Their light intertwined — pink and gold — and the air trembled with the pulse of memory.
Suddenly, they were standing in another time.
The shrine was whole again. The world bathed in spring. And around them, thousands of cherry blossoms danced in eternal bloom.
> "This…" he whispered. "Our first life."
> "Yes," Sakura said, her eyes glistening. "The moment before the gods took it from us."
The illusion rippled. In the distance, thunder rolled — not weather, but divine anger reborn. The Eidolon's voice echoed faintly:
> "Remember what you sacrificed. Remember why you fell."
Visions flared: her laughter under the full moon; his blood staining the shrine floor; petals burning red as she cried his name.
The light broke. They were back in the ruins, breathless, trembling.
> "That's why we were cursed," Sakura whispered. "Because love defied eternity."
He took her face in his hands, voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. "Then let's defy it again."
The petals began to fall once more, slowly, softly — but now, each one shimmered with memory. And beneath the moonlight, the goddess who had fallen and the mortal who had always remembered stood together, bound once more by the same impossible promise.
> "Every spring… every dawn… until the last blossom falls." 🌸