Death never comes to him, but in its stead, a certain period of hibernation does.
Like any mortal, he is unable to fight against it: the curse of immortality is grave and inescapable, this absolute rule he learns the hard way back during his younger years.
Though his nation continues to thrive, this does not necessarily mean that the person of Arthur Kirkland is required to involve himself in the matters of his state.
Perhaps, the peace savoured by his country for the past couple of months is the reason why he fell into such deep slumber to begin with.
"Bloody hell," he mutters under his breath, green eyes still closed - he does not need to open them to know he is awake.
"My garden."
He hopes ardently that his garden did not wilt in his absence - he prays that there was someone who cared for it whilst he was in deep slumber, he doubts it, though.
He has a lot of things to do: resurrecting his precious garden is first on his roster.
