The white wasteland. On this odd planet, the heat of it's sun does not break the atmosphere. The blue sky and sunny day is contrasted by cold, unlivable conditions. Minimal life exists here. Some alien bacteria, evolved to thrive in the cold, makes their home here. Silence is the loudest sound in this dead place.
On the horizon, a goddess trudges through snow and steps over ice. She is naked, bare chested. Her impossibly long and impossibly dark, black hair flows in ghostly elegance in the wind. Her beauty, described without exaggeration, is enough to kill a man. She radiates in the sun brilliantly. She brings with her an artificial heat almost powerful enough to create oceans from the icy fields that stretch for miles. Despite her unimaginable beauty, she exists as a warrior. She has seen death on planets and galaxies innumerable. Trillions of lives in the wind, like petals in a breeze, are inconsequential to her.
She walks with an expression colder than the snow she trudges through.
But... she loved once.
On the battlefield, this warrior too exuded a sort of artificial heat. Before her, men would bend the knee. She was as wise as she was fearsome. Blessed with strategic cunning and beauty unrivaled, this warrior was seen by this immortal as a diamond in the roughest rough.
In the middle of a gruesome exchange, the cause of which unimportant, the goddess stopped time to talk to this warrior.
A love blossomed.
They walked the time stopped world for a lifetime.
But to the goddess, as quickly as the second hand of a clock ticks, the warrior passed from one plane to the next. Death and love will always be synonymous to her. The goddess resumed time. the army led by the warrior suffered greatly from the disappearance of their general. They lost in a slaughter.
The goddess continued walking.
The goddess continues walking.
I've got a continuation of this short story in mind, if you'd like to read more, let me know in the comments!