౨ৎ | Eternal bonds

౨ৎ | 𝐜𝐡 𝟓

Maya glanced at her watch, blinking in surprise. Three hours had passed since she first entered the museum.

She had become so engrossed by the ancient relics on display that time had passed her by.

The sun outside had begun to dip low, casting long shadows across the marble floors as she prepared to leave.

But Maya was not alone. Unseen, in the farthest corner of the museum,

Chrona watched her silently, a figure cloaked in the delicate folds of time. Though invisible to mortal eyes, Chrona's essence filled the air, like a disturbance in the very fabric of the room.

She had been observing Maya since the moment she arrived—curious, watchful, as the mortal unknowingly walked deeper into the path entwined with Vito's cursed fate.

Chrona's eyes narrowed as an attempt to study the young woman further.

There was something about her—something fragile, yet determined—that stirred the threads of time in a way Chrona had not foreseen.

Vito was drawn to her. And that unsettled Chrona more than she cared to admit.

Another one, Chrona mused to herself, her gaze cold and distant.

'He never learns. How many lifetimes must he witness fall to dust before he understands?'

Chrona did not despise Maya, nor was her intent purely malevolent. But she had seen too much—centuries of humans rising and falling, clinging to hope, and being crushed by the inexorable march of time.

To her, Maya was another fragile soul wandering too close to the flame of immortality. The same flame that had scorched Vito centuries ago.

'She doesn't know the cost...'
Chrona thought, watching Maya linger near a sculpture.

'He will only bring her suffering. and then he will watch her fade like all the others.'

There was a fleeting moment, a second where Chrona almost felt pity for the girl. Almost.. However, as the events unfolded, tides of time were relentless, and she could not afford sentimentality. She would watch from the shadows, as she always did, waiting for the moment when fate would unravel.

'She has no place in his world...'

And so, Chrona sank further into the movements of time almost in a breath, as if she was there without being there but her thoughts were already preparing for the inevitable—when time, as it always did, would catch up to those who tried to outrun it.

***

As Maya stepped out of the museum, the late afternoon sun bathed Delphi in a warm golden hue.

The air felt lighter, the scent of pine and ancient stone filling her lungs as she inhaled deeply, shaking off the quiet intensity of the museum's halls.

Yet, something lingered—an odd sense of unease she couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the overwhelming weight of the history she'd just been immersed in, or perhaps... something else.

She glanced at her watch again, surprised by how much time had passed. Three hours felt like a blink, and yet, it left her feeling restless.

There was still so much to see. Her plan had been to visit the Sanctuary of Athena Pronaia next—a place of mystery and beauty, where she could lose herself in the ruins and find inspiration for her sketches.

Maya adjusted her bag on her shoulder and began the short walk down the winding path that led from the museum.

The town of Delphi stretched out below her, the mountains casting long shadows as the sun sank lower. Her mind wandered to the man she'd met earlier—Vito.

His presence had unsettled her, yet there was something captivating about him, like an enigma she felt compelled to understand.

'Enough thinking about him..' she thought, quickening her pace.

The sanctuary called to her, and she needed the solitude of the ancient ruins, a place where she could sit quietly and let the echoes of the past guide her hand.

"I'll just clear my head." she reassured herself.

"Sketch a little, and then maybe I'll figure out what this strange attraction is all about..."

***

Maya decided that after hours of wandering through ancient artifacts, a quieter, more familiar setting was what she needed.

She made her way back toward the small café she had noticed earlier, just a short walk from her hotel. It was tucked away in a corner, designed with charming outdoor seating and a view of the distant mountains.

The tables were scattered beneath a vine-covered pergola, offering both shade and a perfect spot for sketching.

She ordered a simple espresso, sat at a table near the edge, and pulled out her sketchbook.

The soft hum of conversation around her and the clinking of cups provided a calming backdrop.

The day's warmth still lingered in the air, and as the sun began to set, she found herself lost once again in her art.

Maya's pencil moved swiftly, capturing not just the landscape but fragments of the museum—faces of ancient statues, the delicate folds of robes, the worn patterns on vases. And, almost unconsciously, a figure began to take shape on the page.

A tall man, his features both sharp and soft, his eyes shadowed. It was Vito.

She paused, staring at what she had drawn.

"What has gotten into me?"
She paused for a while.

"Why can't I stop thinking about him...?"