Immortal Love🔊

Once upon a time, in a quaint little village named Fleathre, located cloaked under a large mountainside, a potter named Thaddeus lived. Thaddeus was known through all of Fleathre for his handy work and his divine ability to shape clay into wondrous pieces of art. However, one thing puzzled everyone: Thaddeus had never sculpted a face. His creations included various misshapen forms, abstract figures, and detailed landscapes, yet, he never created a human representation.

Everything changed when a girl named Seraphina moved into Fleathre. With raven-black hair, almond eyes, and a hearty laugh that resonated through the alleys of the village, she was a spectacle. Thaddeus felt an irresistible urge to sculpt her beauty; it was as though his hands were yearning to etch her image into the everlasting clay. Yet, he resisted; for he believed that human emotions and expressions were too transcendental to be captured in art.

But Seraphina had her charms. She was gregarious and vivacious, bubbling with an infectious energy significantly contrasting with Thaddeus's solitary, introverted life. They began to spend more time together, and Thaddeus fell in love with her ebullience, her warm spirit, but most importantly, her unsullied heart.

One day, under a silver moon, Thaddeus confessed his love for Seraphina in the garden of evening primroses. To his delight, Seraphina reciprocated his emotions. Their love was now no longer unspoken, but accepted, acknowledged, and celebrated. However, in that moment of bliss, Thaddeus asked her permission to make her face into his masterpiece - his first-ever human sculptor.

Seraphina, being a spirited nomad herself, always yearned for something immortal and constant in her transient lifestyle. She felt as though being immortalized in clay could be that sense of permanence she needed, and thus without hesitation, she agreed.

These were days of enchantment; the air was filled with cheer, joy, and anticipation. A wordless conversation of love and acceptance was shared between them as Thaddeus would study her face, her radiant eyes, her rosy lips, sketching her angelic figure within his mind, reliving countless moments of their shared love during desolate nights in his studio.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, Thaddeus worked tirelessly on his masterpiece. Fleathre held its breathe, lost in rapt anticipation, awating Thaddeus's creation that would defy his limitless creativity.

The day of revelation finally came. A hushed silence fell upon the crowd as Thaddeus unveiled his masterpiece under the radiant sunlight. The sculpture was breathtakingly beautiful, a heavenly beauty immortalized forever. The villagers gasped at the sight. Thaddeus had captured not only Seraphina's divine beauty but her spirit, her aura, and her love.

Thaddeus held Seraphina's hand, their eyes meeting over the smiling crowd. Though his lips were silent, his eyes screamed volumes of his love for her. The hushed whispers of the amazed crowd, the sound of the rustling leaves, everything faded into insignificance, their world reducing to each other. This was their immortal love story, sculpted eternally, a story that would be told in hushed whispers, reverberating throughout the village, for generations to come.