Xavier got a dream, he knew it was a dream because even in his sleep, the pattern of an unreturned path still echoes from the depth of the vast universe. Or, perhaps, it was another outcome that Deepspace opened for him, none really matters, actually, because before his very eyes, he saw you again.

You have aged, he thought to himself. And suddenly he felt like a true outstander whose homeland was right beneath his feets. An observer descended from above just to witness final moment of a life that seemed like eternal. You have aged because time left marks on its subjects, yet for him time stopped and dearly traces of youth presented on his facade as clear as the day he left you. Through the stars he sought something you had never known for you whole life, and beyond planets you lived a life - an unfamiliar one with his silhouette lingered like mists - that he could only image bit by bit. So perhaps it really was his dream.

He imaged your eyes, under those crystals he saw fine lines, and he sensed that wrinkles on your warm cheek as his hand caressed you. Oh, you've aged like any other Philosians. And those folds carried stories took parts when he was away. He wanted to ask you everything, but so afraid it will remind him of how long they parted ways. He wanted to hear your tales, but so fear of little time you had left. Unsure of what to do, he stood in awe, and before your tender gazes, in sudden he wanted to cry and let tears tell you what he always yearned to let you know. Time has been so generous towards him, so that he could see you aging, but at the same time so neglecting that it forgot him: so he looked exactly like a thousands, thousands, thousands years ago, millennials, even. Oh, he knew that you were amazed the moment your eyes met. In disbelief, in joy, you held hands, "You haven't changed", you spoke first and Xavier could say nothing but a smile, faintly. He was wondering if you still remembered years ago, that's what he said to you too.