Humans are always praying for "eternity." You vow "forever" at weddings and wish for "eternal youth" on birthdays. You view time as the ultimate enemy, fantasizing that conquering it will lead to ultimate happiness.
What a colossal misunderstanding. In our eyes (those compelled to exist outside linear time), eternity is not a reward, but the cruelest torture.
Imagine a movie that never ends. No matter how brilliant the plot, by the ten-thousandth repetition, only nausea remains. Imagine a feast that never breaks up. Food never rots, flowers never wither, and you never feel hungry. That is not paradise. That is dead white noise. Without change, there is no surprise; without the fear of loss, there is no reality of possession.
Therefore, gods secretly envy you. Envy your aging, envy the wrinkles on your skin, envy your inevitable death.
Because "death" is a definitive deadline. It is precisely because you know all this will end that your every embrace in this moment is so forceful, and every vow so enchanting. Death endows life with "scarcity."
Auraliasilk artifacts are never meant to make you "immortal." They too will oxidize, wear down, and grow old. They are timers of your fleeting life.
Do not pray for eternity. It is too boring. Please, grant me an ending. For only those performances destined to drop the curtain deserve the most rapturous applause.