void

I swear I still believe but I don't know

It is a finality that rings true in the both of them, then. Too many times knocked down, too many tears shed. Through death, blindness, blight and battle, at last they are worn to the bone. At last there is nothing left but each other. It’s sick, when Ronin thinks about it, but as his eyes meet Remi’s there’s a fierce warmth there as well, a dangerous sort of love. One no longer shackled by gods or by the whims and rules of others.

Ronin squints against the suddenly gorgeous light, and it steals his attention for a second, until Remi speaks again. At last there is a well of strength to draw upon; because where Remi can’t, it is Ronin’s purpose to be able to. ”Me neither. But I will,” he whispers, bloodied hand reaching up to cup Remi’s cheek.

”Can you make a pyre?” Already Ronin is moving, before he can change his mind, before his eyes blur too much to see. He’s up and he’s approaching the fragile little bundle that held the last pieces of their past and the best bits of their hearts.

He doesn’t dare to lift the blankets and look at her, instead scooping them up and into his arms. It is a familiar weight that brings a sob fracturing from his chest, because it’s real now, and it’s not going away.

the dark star