like the dawn breaks through the night

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Ronin had not moved since they had arrived at the spark bird. He had not spoken, had not been present, not for hours. But then the heat seemed to sink into his skin, the light hit his eyes, and aches and pains returned. The Dark Star came back, slowly and uncertainly, from his walk through the barren wastelands of the Spire in his mind, from dancing with Remi, from tucking Aoife in at night and drinking with friends. He came back and the world was hell. His footsteps were sluggish as they walked up to the house; beneath his clothes lay insidious wounds, bits of metal punched into his skin by a boy who was a bomb, the cuts angry and reddened from not being seen to. Ronin didn’t seem to pay mind to them, though - his gaze remained on the ground, as if frightened by the stars above. Frightened to look. ”Yes.” His voice came out hoarse and raspy, his mouth dry. ”Yes, I stayed out all night.”