The Watcher cried for the first time at Elena's memorial.
Not visibly—it had no visible tears. But Maya felt it—a shift in its ancient presence, a softening.
I did not know grief could feel like this, it admitted.
"Like what?"
*Like love, but heavier. Like connection, but painful. I do not understand.
"You're mourning. It's what happens when you love someone who leaves."
*I have watched beings leave for eternity. It never felt like this.
"Because you never loved them before."
The Watcher considered this.
*Love is... costly.
"Yes. Worth it, but costly."
*I understand now. Why your kind treasure it so.
Maya nodded. "Because we know it won't last forever. That makes it precious."
The Watcher sat in silence, processing.
Learning.
Feeling.
Becoming more.