everything has its wonders
Ronin climbed the rocky expanse of beach up to the lighthouse at dawn. He had left a message for Remi (he did not find himself falling blindly drunk into sleep quite so often since his conversation with Safrin), telling him where he had gone and inviting him to join him if and when he was ready. The if was important, because Ronin had already clarified his reasons for going to the lighthouse. Ludo had been correct, and he did think it important to mark their daughter’s short but wonderful life.
His feet bare and his shirt open, Ronin knelt before a small plinth of stone, one that naturally jutted out of the ground alongside the lighthouse. It was this that he had dedicated his attention towards; this he had chosen as a marker for Aoife. The stone had been carefully worn and sculpted so that it was smooth, bleached by the light and shaped to a point, like a teardrop. Upon it was carved a single letter, the A of his star child’s initial seeming impossibly small and meaningless.
There was nothing left of Aoife, nothing belonging to her, so Ronin was improvising as best he could. He had dug a small hole before the marker, and in his hands he held a battered feather, one that looked as though it had been through a lot in its time. The only thing he had been able to salvage from the guild fire had been this, and while it barely reminded him of Vanya anymore, she was still always there in the back of his mind.
His feet bare and his shirt open, Ronin knelt before a small plinth of stone, one that naturally jutted out of the ground alongside the lighthouse. It was this that he had dedicated his attention towards; this he had chosen as a marker for Aoife. The stone had been carefully worn and sculpted so that it was smooth, bleached by the light and shaped to a point, like a teardrop. Upon it was carved a single letter, the A of his star child’s initial seeming impossibly small and meaningless.
There was nothing left of Aoife, nothing belonging to her, so Ronin was improvising as best he could. He had dug a small hole before the marker, and in his hands he held a battered feather, one that looked as though it had been through a lot in its time. The only thing he had been able to salvage from the guild fire had been this, and while it barely reminded him of Vanya anymore, she was still always there in the back of his mind.
even darkness and silence
