the dying sun illuminates so much

I swear I still believe but I don't know

Ronin stiffened, at first, as Safrin's presence enveloped him; he didn't deserve it, he felt. He didn't deserve comfort, or to be told that he could be redeemed. Not after he had done so much to so completely destroy everything. (In fact he knew there would be those who would resent him for receiving Safrin's forgiveness). But it didn't last for very long; he had held himself braced against his grief for so long that the permission to be anything but gruff and unfeeling towards it was too good not to take.

Folding into the goddess's embrace, he pressed his eyes shut against the cosmos that swirled around them, a shaky sigh hitching out of his chest at the knowledge that at least - at least - his daughter hadn't suffered. She had gone quickly into Mort's halls. Blinking his eyes open as Safrin's remarks turned to his husband, he couldn't help the excuses, explanations and defence that burned on his tongue for Remi--

But he didn't speak any of it. For as much as he liked to think he knew the alchemist, inside and out, he was unable to deny that Safrin knew more - knew it, intrinsically. "I would not see him like that if I can help it," he said, frowning, before glancing reproachfully up at her. "I'll admit it wasn't my finest moment, that temple. Sorry."

the dark star