The sight of Ronin’s smile cut through her like a shard of starlight, with Safrin not needing to read into his mind to know what it is he's about to say. She shook her head slowly, her eyes dark with sorrow as she murmured, "There is no replacing her," she agreed, before a choked sob escaped her, mingling with the silence that hung heavy in the air. With trembling resolve, she reached out and lifted her hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing the scruff there in a tender, understanding touch.
"You are a good man, Ronin," she whispered, her voice laden with both divine regret and mortal tenderness. In that fragile moment Safrin would have offered much to mend the bridge between them that she'd so hastily scorched, but with Seren gone, it was as he'd said: there was no replacing her, and he was a different man now.
For a long, heart-wrenching moment, Safrin lingers there, not wanting to break the delicate illusion that for a brief instant, they are together again—mother, father, and child reunited beneath the returned stars. Yet the weight of reality presses in, and she knows she must depart, if only because she can feel the weight of Remi's mind at the bottom of the lighthouse, and she knows that unlike her presence, his will go far in giving Ronin what he needs.
Shifting softly to place Seren's head into her father's lap, Safrin doesn't rise so much as she begins to bleed apart in whisps of moonlight. "Be well, sugar."
~FIN
"You are a good man, Ronin," she whispered, her voice laden with both divine regret and mortal tenderness. In that fragile moment Safrin would have offered much to mend the bridge between them that she'd so hastily scorched, but with Seren gone, it was as he'd said: there was no replacing her, and he was a different man now.
For a long, heart-wrenching moment, Safrin lingers there, not wanting to break the delicate illusion that for a brief instant, they are together again—mother, father, and child reunited beneath the returned stars. Yet the weight of reality presses in, and she knows she must depart, if only because she can feel the weight of Remi's mind at the bottom of the lighthouse, and she knows that unlike her presence, his will go far in giving Ronin what he needs.
Shifting softly to place Seren's head into her father's lap, Safrin doesn't rise so much as she begins to bleed apart in whisps of moonlight. "Be well, sugar."
~FIN
