REMI
Remi looks up as Theea approaches, his grin easy and brightening with her presence. Aoife is still in his arms, cheeks smudged with cupcake crumbs and hair wild from all the attention, but she peeks shyly around his shoulder at the newcomer, her curiosity stronger than her wariness. "Come meet someone special," he says, shifting his hold on the squirming toddler. "Aoife, this is your cousin Theea. She’s clever, kind, and has very good taste in family." Aoife blinks wide-eyed before offering a sticky little hand, her smile slow and sunny. Remi watches them both with a quiet warmth, a steady pride in his gaze as he lifts his eyes again to take in the party—the swell of it, the laughter and low murmurs, the small reunions blooming like flowers across the beach.
The night hums with joy and remembrance. Garlands dance lazily in the breeze; torchlight flickers against the rising tide. Music rises and falls with the ocean’s breath, weaving through the crowd like old magic. Everywhere, there is laughter—loud and bubbling, or hushed and teary, shaped by stories shared between lives that once overlapped and those just meeting for the first time.
And slowly, as the lantern dims, the shimmer in the air begins to soften. Mort’s gift has never been eternal, and the veil begins to call those who crossed it home again. One by one, the departed return to the light that waits beyond the lantern’s golden pulse, passing back through with final smiles, whispered words, and the warm echoes of one more night shared.
Remi and Ronin remain until the end, standing at the threshold. They offer quiet thanks, soft touches, and lingering embraces to those who remain—friends, family, strangers no longer. Then, with the last flicker of flame barely clinging to the lantern’s heart, Remi leans forward and gently blows it out.
Darkness doesn’t follow. Only the hush of surf and stars.
He reaches for Ronin’s hand without needing to look, fingers curling in with effortless trust, and together, they begin to walk up the sand—barefoot, quiet, and full.
The night may end. But everything it gave them will linger.
~FIN
The night hums with joy and remembrance. Garlands dance lazily in the breeze; torchlight flickers against the rising tide. Music rises and falls with the ocean’s breath, weaving through the crowd like old magic. Everywhere, there is laughter—loud and bubbling, or hushed and teary, shaped by stories shared between lives that once overlapped and those just meeting for the first time.
And slowly, as the lantern dims, the shimmer in the air begins to soften. Mort’s gift has never been eternal, and the veil begins to call those who crossed it home again. One by one, the departed return to the light that waits beyond the lantern’s golden pulse, passing back through with final smiles, whispered words, and the warm echoes of one more night shared.
Remi and Ronin remain until the end, standing at the threshold. They offer quiet thanks, soft touches, and lingering embraces to those who remain—friends, family, strangers no longer. Then, with the last flicker of flame barely clinging to the lantern’s heart, Remi leans forward and gently blows it out.
Darkness doesn’t follow. Only the hush of surf and stars.
He reaches for Ronin’s hand without needing to look, fingers curling in with effortless trust, and together, they begin to walk up the sand—barefoot, quiet, and full.
The night may end. But everything it gave them will linger.
~FIN
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
