I swear I still believe but I don't know
"No. I suppose not." Ronin scowls into the waves. He had come to Caido like he was still vying for general in Northaven, like he had answers, like he could help. And look at the devastation he has left in his wake since. A bunch of terrible decisions, a few wonderful ones, and a road of heartbreak behind him. It would have been better, to have left well enough alone. He's staring too intently at the sunset bouncing off the sea to realise Remi has turned to look at him, but when the alchemist speaks again it finally chips away enough at Ronin's grief for him to muster a response.
"She was," he agrees through half a whisper. "More yours than mine, I used to think. It made me terribly resentful." And now he is turning to look too, and gods but he can't do it, he can't face it. Not this, not her - anything but this.
"Why would she bring her here?" he wants to know. Lost, broken, it is too much. They have to bury their daughter.
"She was," he agrees through half a whisper. "More yours than mine, I used to think. It made me terribly resentful." And now he is turning to look too, and gods but he can't do it, he can't face it. Not this, not her - anything but this.
"Why would she bring her here?" he wants to know. Lost, broken, it is too much. They have to bury their daughter.
the dark star
