Eternity was even longer when you spent it languishing. 

In the dark of night, nothing moved inside the abandoned stone halls of a relic castle on a hill. The whole area had fallen to woodlands, and here, sitting on a cold stone throne, Chakan tried to sleep. She waited, brooding, as time ticked by, refusing to let go of her hatred. She had been tricked by the god of death, and could do nothing about it. Of course she refused to believe any fault had been hers. Still, brooding and refusing him gained her nothing. She had to serve him, but she'd sooner kill Darko if she could. 

Dust had gathered all around her, her armor tarnished but still quite effective. Would there never be company that could bear her undead countenance?