The girl often wondered if there was a point to it all, this eternal cycle of vitality and damnation. She played her role well, yes - but what other choice did she have? The cycle was perpetual and she was only so powerful - she couldn't accomplish much in the way of her supposed salvation even if her heart wasn't conflicted.

But conflicted she was, and the storm of contradictory thoughts only strengthened as the days grew shorter with the approaching winter.

She'd made preparations, as she always did, but this year she felt as though her body moved of its own accord, receiving its directions from her subconscious mind rather than her conscious one. The cycle had repeated itself countless times, her muscles had all but memorized her necessary movements. Autopilot was more than enough for her these days.

She was ready. Not because she herself has decided that, but because it was always around this time that she was ready. Habit, instinct, schedule - however you called it, this was all she'd ever known.

Forever - in either direction - this was her fate. Life, death, rebirth, repeat. So simple, so meaningless. Her world existed for but a fraction of the year; did it really matter if she was there to govern it?

Ah... he'd be angry if he could hear my thoughts...

The girl blinked cloudy eyes, glancing over the issue of her tear-streaked cheeks. Shadows dappled her rosy skin, intermingling with the golden sunlight in a whimsical dance. The grass rustling beneath her wandering fingers felt coarse, brittle, but it was the cool, loose soil she favored anyway; cradling a handful always gave her the illusion that there was life pulsing against her palms. The earth only produced such beautiful, captivating flora because of this soil, rich in nutrients, stubbornly resisting the passage of time. This soil was her symbol, she thought; it was her anchor, keeping her from being taken up on the gusting winds and racing head-first into oblivion.

The branches creaking above her had already lost their once-vibrant leaves; they littered the ground around her like a sea of crackling flames, reds and golds and browns, devouring the waning blades of grass in their mournful inferno.

Once upon a time, the change had fascinated her. Watching the veiny evergreen leaves' metamorphosis had been her favorite pastime, and witnessing them spiral to the ground in a brilliant, chaotic waltz filled her with joy like nothing else. She'd been young then, little more than a newborn compared to the earth's lifespan. She hadn't understood her purpose, but the end of that autumn...

A soft, subtle hum permeated the air, punctuated by lilting birdsong every so often, but it did little to lift her spirits. Soon these woods would fall silent, the birds vacating their roosts for the warming south, the insects' chatter dissipating as they succumb to the frigid snowfall. The small animals would hole up for the winter in hollowed-out trees, in burrows carefully excavated within the earth, and the larger ones - hopefully after a successful summer of hunting and gathering - would submerge themselves in anxious slumber, eager to awaken when the sunlight returned.

And she, she too would be waiting, praying her few, precious months of living hadn't been some child's fever dream.

Oh.

The girl's eyes drifted shut as she rolled onto her side, arms and knees tucked close to her chest. Though it was only noon, the daylight seemed to dim, lengthening the shadows so that they fell across her like a phantom's embrace.

Noon. How had it come without her realizing it?

"Autumnus."

His footsteps were faint even with the layer of unsilent leaves, though she'd sensed his approach, if only a few moments before his greeting.

"Hibernis," she murmured listlessly in reply.

"...It's time."

"I know."

"Can you... stand?"

Though she kept her eyes closed, she could imagine the pensive look contorting his pallid face, how his dark brows knit together, his mouth drawn in a fretful frown. Bashful black eyes set in a pale, round face, full of concern for her, as they had been for decades, centuries now.

She hated him with half her heart, and she desperately wished to have the remaining half come to its senses.

"You already look half-asleep," she commented as she unfurled herself from her fetal-like position, deliberately taking her time. He seemed to be in no hurry, as he didn't rush her in the slightest, though she knew he was well-aware of their time-table.

"Yes, well..." He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, averting his gaze from hers; she resisted the urge to grab him by the front of his jacket and forcefully spin him to face her, to look her in the eye as he stole her life - but she couldn't do that, not really. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't anyone's, and that only made her loathe him more. "That's my nature, I suppose. Winter's not the most active season for any creature."

"True," she said, standing and dusting bits of withered debris from her dress, chin dipping towards her collarbone but eyes rolled up to ensnare Hibernis' stare. "I'm particularly inactive during this time."

Hibernis flinched, as though she'd raised a hand against him, and for a moment she wanted to smile in blatant satisfaction. Yes, that guilt, that oh-so wretched guilt that flooded the depths of his obsidian eyes - warmth bubbled up within her chest just at the sight of it, spilling out into her veins and rushing through her system.

For a moment.

For a moment, the sun burned brighter, the wind died down, the scent of smoke and rain was replaced by that of green, growing things. Just a brief, finite moment, and everything was fine, as though the clock had spun back to its starting point.

Then she sighed.

His guilt was her guilt; she was as much as murderer as he was, her crimes made worse by her uncooperative heart and unsteady hands. She had no place to condemn him, and yet...

"Autumnus, I..." Hibernis fumbled for the right words, a futile task, she knew. They were slaves to their fates, there could be no changing that, and nothing he could say would ease her agony, just as she was useless to ease his own.

"Hibernis," she said, shaking her head, taking the few steps required to stand before him, "don't waste your breath. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

But he didn't move.

Perplexed, she tilted her head, debating whether she should forgo her baseless instincts and make the first move. She'd never done that; it was always Hibernis and Aestas who--

She swallowed thickly, pushing aside the thought, banishing it a forgotten corner of her mind, where dreams and nightmares coexisted and battled for dominance.

These feelings of hers... they were so utterly, unfathomably ridiculous she found the whole thing laughable. Or, she would have, it those same feelings weren't eating away at her every second of every day of her pitifully short existence. Why humans celebrated these damned emotions she didn't know, and she didn't particularly care to.

"Autumnus."

She glanced up, startled to realize Hibernis had been talking for quite some time already. He took her hands despite her internal protest (which of course he wasn't privy to), placing them just over his heart. Its rhythmic ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump turned just shy of frantic as the seconds wore on, and she arched an inquiring brow at him.

"I have a heart, Autumnus," he said, softly, so softly, the words little more than a breath that ghosted over her cheeks. She stared, uncomprehending, as his hands tightened around her wrists, his bloodless face twisted into a look so despairing her breath caught in her throat. "Our lives aren't much, I understand that. They're limited, gone in the blink of an eye, and this heart suffers from that."

He smiled, a bitter, lonely smile, and Autumnus had to wonder if he'd ever smiled for her in all their time together; and if he hadn't, why had he chosen such a damning expression now?

"Love is awful, isn't it?"

Oh.

Her eyes widened as his sparkled with unshed tears, perched on his thick lashes like dainty dewdrops. Love? He'd known about love? For how long? She'd only put a name to the crippling emotion this decade, when she'd forced herself to walk among the humans for the first time in a century. Hibernis slept away most of his staggered life, how could he possibly know...?

Oh, it wasn't as though it mattered. Hibernis knew. Perhaps the depth of his knowledge surpassed her own; perhaps he was still as clueless and bewildered as she was. She hardly cared, once his revelation had sunk in and she could tear herself free of his hold, stepping back despite her internal clock's whining alarm, begging her to step into his embrace once again.

"It is," she hissed, amber eyes ablaze with a furious gale of emotions that she desperately wanted to wish away. "It's horrid, despicable, and I thought we were above such inconveniences."

"We should be.... I think," Hibernis drawled, not because he was feeling particularly casual, but because his natural demeanor allowed for very little urgency in his voice. Since the beginning he'd been that way; Autumnus could recall in explicit detail their first meeting, and though he was taller, broader than he was at that time, there was no distinguishable difference between an infantile Hibernis and the man - the construct - who stood before her now. "Not being human... it should keep us from... I mean...."

Again with the fumbling. Always tongue-tied, that was Hibernis. Another reason for her unrelenting animosity towards him.

"Stop," she sighed, and he did, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, hands raised slightly as though he didn't know quite what to do with them now that he'd lost his grip on her. "There isn't time for this. Please, Hibernis, get this over with so I can be at peace for a few months."

He looked pained as he gently nodded, reaching for her, and when she didn't react except for the imperceptible tightening of each and every one of her muscles, placed his hands at the small of her back, drawing her towards him. He enjoyed physical contact, which always astounded her, considering what a desolate world it was when he reigned as king.

Now, she thought that maybe that only made him yearn for others' warmth all the more.

What a disconcerting notion.

Hibernis, eyes closed, whispered something that barely ghosted over her cheeks - an apology, she realized long after this exchange - before dipping his head and bringing his lips to hers for a long, passionless kiss that stole the thrum of her very life from her breast.

Hibernis nearly wavered as he felt the tension flee from her body and she went slack in his arms, even as strength flooded into his core, breathing wakefulness into his lethargic form. Light, feathery warm enveloped him, inside and out, only for a few precious heartbeats, before a touch of frost took its place.

The cold was coming, and it wouldn't leave him until Veris was in his sights again.

As Hibernis lowered himself to his knees, Autumnus very nearly crushed to his chest, something in the air changed. Silence - the very same reticence that haunted Autumnus in her fretful waking hours - replaced the melodic forest sounds. The winds picked up, whipping the leaves strewn about the ground into the air in a dazzling, fiery tornado that dissipated as quickly as it had materialized.

Flecks of white soon began to fall steadily through the skeletal branches.

With the death of autumn came the rise of winter.

But soon enough, winter would bow to spring, then spring to summer, and summer to autumn, and this cycle would continue for however long their world remained plentiful and intact.

There was no time for love, and even more so when it was your beloved that kissed your life away.

Hibernis gave Autumnus a final squeeze, then laid her body flat upon the ground. She was already fading, cracking and crumbling into loose, rich soil, and in moments a layer of sparkling white covered her completely. When the time for summer's end arrived, she would be reborn, as she always was, and it would be Aestas who gave her life.

Once again she would hate herself, just as Hibernis knew Veris loathed herself when she took over from him.

He sighed, and a cloud of vapor puffed from his lips.

Really, he thought, craning his neck to watch the snowflakes dance among the violent winds in a beautiful, chaotic display, is this a life worth living...?