The Tuscan sun bled across the vineyards, painting the rolling hills in hues of ochre and gold. Another sunset. Another century. Jake and Sunghoon stood in comfortable silence on the balcony of their villa, a sprawling estate they'd acquired centuries ago. The air, thick with the scent of ripening grapes and damp earth, held no charm for them tonight.

"She's been gone too long, Sunghoon," Jake murmured, his gaze lost in the distance. His youthful face, eternally fixed in his early 20's, belied the centuries etched into his soul. He fiddled with the silver ring he always wore, a near perfect match to Sunghoon's, both talismans infused with their magic as a connection point to her soul.

"Patience, Jake. We knew the spell would take time. The threads of fate are not so easily woven." Sunghoon's voice, usually smooth, felt rough around the edges. Patience had been a virtue he once possessed in abundance, now a threadbare cloak worn out of necessity.

They had met her during the height of the Italian Renaissance - a woman with eyes the color of sky after a storm and a spirit that could ignite a revolution. She had been everything to them, a beacon in their long, unchanging lives. A mortal flame that burned so brightly, they were willing to risk everything to keep her light from extinguishing.

But mortality is a cruel mistress. When the sickness took her, they were ravaged. Grief, a sensation they hadn't truly experienced in centuries, threatened to consume them. Desperation clawed at them, driving them to forbidden magic. They poured their power, love, and essence into a reincarnation spell, ensuring her soul would return.

Now, one hundred and fifty-three years had passed. The world had changed into something unrecognizable, but their vigil remained the same. They stayed in Europe, flitting between estates, always waiting.

Suddenly, Jake gasped, his hand flying to his chest. "Sunghoon! I...I felt it."

A jolt, like a lightning strike to the heart, ripped through Sunghoon. Recognition, sharp and undeniable, flooded his senses. It was her. The magic they had woven so long ago had found its mark.

"Where?" he demanded, voice tight with anticipation.

Jake closed his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. "France. A small town...near Alsace." He opened his eyes, gaze meeting Sunghoon's, filled with joy and trepidation. "She's there."

Jake's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm echoing the excitement surging through him. "We need to go," he said, already turning towards the door.

Sunghoon placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Wait. We need to be careful. We don't know what she remembers. We can't just barge into her life and overwhelm her."

"Then what? We just wait more?" Jake's voice cracked with frustration.

"We'll observe," Sunghoon continued, eyes narrowed in thought. "We'll learn about her, see if there are any...residues of her past life."

Residues. Fleeting moments of deja vu, inexplicable familiarity with people or places, lingering affinity for things she loved before.

The woman wandered through the streets of a small French village, the scent of lavender heavy in the air. This trip to visit relatives was supposed to be relaxing, but something felt off. From the moment she arrived, she'd been plagued by a sense of deja vu. The cobblestone streets, ancient buildings, and way sunlight filtered through leaves all felt strangely familiar, as if she had lived here before.

In the local antique shop, she stumbled upon a small, intricately carved wooden box. The moment she touched it, a wave of dizziness washed over her, followed by a fleeting image of a grand villa bathed in Tuscan sunlight. Two men, handsome and impossibly young, stood on a balcony, their eyes filled with longing. Then the vision vanished as quickly as it came.

Shaken, she put the box back on the shelf and stumbled out of the shop. What had just happened? Were these just dreams? Or echoes of a past life she had somehow forgotten?