It was still not over. The time of the girl who lived forever would never end. For she was a statue, that sat on the forgotten borderline between the territories in a town called Le Marché.

Her name was Sylvia Masen. She had been frozen as a statue for over 300 years with her lover Malachai Slaviskia. An odd name I must say. But so was the custom for his people back when he was human. When they were both human. Sylvia and Malachai's world was different in so many ways than it is now that it would take years to explain them all.

Back then, women were forbidden to wear pants or shorts. They always wore dresses or knee to ankle-length skirts and peasant blouses.


And women were not allowed to choose their husbands. When they were born, they were instantly betrothed to another of their tribe, or another in the nation, or territory.

But when Sylvia met Malachai at a peace gathering that occurred once a year at the age of 19, they fell in love. They were crazy about eachother. They ,et whenever they could, but one day, when they were seeing eachother, a villager from Sylvia's tribe spotted them. The way Malachai was holding her, his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, made the villager think he was kidnapping her while she was gathering fruit.

In a panic, Sylvia's nation waged war on Malachai's.

To stop the war, Sylvia and Malachai appeared out of the woods bordering the battlefield from opposite sides between the two armies. Sylvia was the princess, and Malachai a well-known powerful warrior, so they were easily recognized.

They came to eachother in the center on the field and were just about to take eachothers hand when something happened. They began to freeze. From their fingertips, barely half an inch apart, a stiffness began to spread. They were turning to stone. When they discovered what wa happening, and that they would never feel the others skin on their fingertips, two things happened that stopped the war.

A heartbroken grimace appeared on Malachai's face, and Sylvia began to cry.

And that is how they were frozen. Their bodies angled away from each other, with a miserable expression on Malachai's face, and a tear rolling down Sylvia's cheek.

Seeing this, the nations became one with the legendary Truce of the Unforgettable.

There were legends about the shrine that was built around Sylvia and Malachai within years of this event. One was that they were still alive in there, and that the stone was only a shell, preserving them for when the world was ready, and that they stared at each other every minute of every day, watching in agony, knowing they could never be together again.

Others were love legends, saying that Sylvia and Malachai's love was the purest most unclouded love ever seen, sand that if you touched both of their hands at once, then you and your significant other would be together until the day you died.

But there was another. One that only the direct descendants of Sylvia and Malachai's families knew. That they would be freed from their stone prison on their 400th year, on the 45th day. No one knew why. But they knew one thing.

That day was today.


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