Starlit Illumination [Complete]

[Roen]

“For...me...?”

 

Sayer’s sky-blue eyes went wide, peering back up at her. His hands hovered around the toy that was being offered--a wooden carving of a chocobo hatchling peeking out of its broken egg. The child’s dirt-stained fingers brushed lightly over the top, tracing the egg’s surface ever so gently.

 

“It is yours," Roen said quietly. "You should have something special for Starlight, as all children should.” Roen extended her hand, the figurine laid flat upon her palm. She grinned as it was immediately snatched up, the boy holding the model in his cupped hands as if it was a real hatchling. “If you take good care of it, maybe you will have a real mount of your own someday,” the paladin said softly.

 

“Really?” the Highlander boy smiled wide, his beaded braids clacking with excitement as he bounced up and down.

 

Roen nodded with a chuckle. After seeing Chachanji’s boundless elation on Avenger, she knew such an idea might also cheer up young Sayer. She watched him as he cradled the wooden hatchling with care as if it was a newly born babe.

 

“I will build him a nest, I will!” Sayer piped up, suddenly proud of his idea. “I’ll set him just next to my bed so I can watch him. Like ma does for me.”

 

“I am certain you will take good care of him.” Roen bent before the boy, lightly cupping his chin with one hand, lifting it to draw his attention. ”Now, go tell the other children I have some candy for them as well.” She held up two wrapped Yellow Drops before the boy, and Sayer’s eyes went wide as saucers. “One for you, and the other for Lancel,” she grinned. She pulled it away before it was snatched up, holding up one finger with her other hand. “Promise to share, aye?” When Sayer quickly bobbed his head again, she offered them back as the Highlander boy eagerly swiped it from her fingers.

 

The paladin shook her head as she watched the skinny boy scamper off, calling ahead toward the shack he called his home in his excited voice. “Lancel! Lancel! Look what I got!”

 

Roen settled onto a seat on an empty crate, drawing up her pouch full of candy from her belt. Watching even little things bring her Lalafell pupil such moments of happiness inspired her to bring more of that to those in the refugee camps. More than anywhere else it was needed here. She knew it was as fleeting as a snowflake that found its way to her fingertips, but the flash of its beauty and the wonder of it still lingered in her memory. One needed such reminders in times of darkness, or when the world seemed to lack in warmth and sympathy.

 

The paladin began to spot a few more faces--young children, most of them with sunken eyes and cheeks, grime and dirt staining their face and hair, peeking out of their tents, hovels, and shacks, pointing her way. She could spot the flash of curiosity--even hope--on their faces as they emerged from their homes, their initial steps tentative. Roen beckoned them over with a smile, pulling out one Yellow Drop from the pouch she held. She saw one young girl’s face split with a wide smile and started to quicken her steps toward her, only coming to a stop when she was but two fulms away. The girl’s movement was shy and slow, as she closed the final distance with the trepidation of a young fawn, careful to take the offering. But once she held the candy in her hand, the child looked back to Roen with a grin of unbound happiness.

 

"This is a story about hope, and a bright future. This is the story about someone who believed that they could overcome all odds and reach for a better life." His words, spoken with a tinge of sadness, rose to the surface in her memory at seeing the girl. “This young girl lacked in material goods, but she was not lacking in spirit, or strength of heart."

 

Roen blinked, catching herself for a moment as she recalled that tragic story Nero had told her. She held out more candies in her hand as other children approached, emboldened by the first child who was now savoring her treat with a gleeful spin in the dirt. She knew the offering she had brought was not much, she wished there was more she could give them, but it was what she could afford for as many children that would come. But watching them giggle and hop around each other as they all enjoyed a piece of candy...

 

She wondered if that was all she wanted after all? To deliver even a moment’s reminder that there was more than just the day to day dreariness for them. That there were joys and moments they could all savor in.

 

The paladin smiled to herself when the last of the children scampered away, a few of them wanting to bring the candy to their parents to either show or share. She looked to the empty pouch in her lap, a content sigh escaping her lips.

 

Perhaps she too needed this reminder. Her mother, the one that raised her, had always said that kindness was a treasure that all can share freely. In the last few moons, embroiled in the political tug-of-war between Nero and the Monetarists, and her struggle to help the Limsan smuggler bring change to Ul’dah, Roen had forgotten the blissful peace that could be felt when she saw joy in someone else’s face, especially if she had a hand in bringing it forth.

 

That was what Starlight Festival was all about, was it not? A tradition of helping others, and that in turn, sowing seeds for more benevolence and unselfishness in the future?

 

Roen slid off the crate, dusting herself off. It was here that she had spotted Nero when he had come to look for her after his caravan was confiscated. It was also at the campfire nearby where she and Mister Bellveil had exchanged words about her current goals, where he had offered to help her in her efforts against the Monetarists. Her thoughts continued to wander, many faces--those that she held dear--rising to mind.

 

With a new lightness in her step, the paladin made her way back toward the Gate of Nald, drawing the cowl of her hood low in front of her brows. She had to seek out a few more reminders for others.

Edited June 13, 2019 by Roen

[Roen]

A wrapped package was left with Garalt on the Second Forte, a small note tucked under the ribbon.

 

“Nero,

 

I never asked if your childhood ever included celebrations of the Starlight Festival, or if your father ever thought much of it. My mother loved all things from all the lands, and delighted in observing this Ishgardian holiday. She would also remind me of how those children who were gifted, eventually grew up and gifted others.

 

I was fortunate enough to have received both love and gift as a child, and it is time that I repaid that fortune.

 

Did you know that Daegsatz had a gift for drawing? I am sure you did, but it surprised me.

 

I would like to think that Daegsatz was imagining the blue skies and having fond thoughts of the open sea when he drew this. His last days, despite being imprisoned, he filled it with beautiful sketches, learned how to dance, and nursed an inebriated paladin. He may have died there, but he did not live his last fortnight like a caged creature. He was still Soldier Dance, and I was glad to have known him.

 

~Roen”

 

Within the wrapping was a sketch of an albatross in flight in an ornately carved wooden picture frame. In the bottom corner of the picture were written: "If you be losing your way, there always be another side." ~Daegsatz Traggblansyn

[Roen]

“Look what we have here! A new package has arrived, just for you, Kupo!"

 

The moogle handed Chachanji Gegenji a short note and a small parcel, both having somehow fit neatly and undamaged in the furry white creature’s red satchel.

 

“To my eager pupil,

 

May you never forget the simple joys in life. And how to help people. This flower reminded me of you, and the warmth you bring to others. Happy Starlight.

 

~Roen”

 

Within the box was a small white cake, with a bright yellow flower drawn in frosting on top of the cake.

[Roen]

In front of Kage’s new home sat a small package wrapped in red and white ribbons.

 

“Dear Kage,

 

May we never falter, no matter what path we choose in the end. This beret always reminds me of what was, and what should have been. I will never forget those days, even with all that has passed. Remember who you were, and may that guide you in who you become.

 

~Roen”

 

Within the package was a felt white beret with a golden feather.

[Gegenji]

"Ah, for me?"

 

The moogle had delivered the gift directly to Chachanji's room at the Hourglass, and had interrupted the lad while he was dressing. His clothing this day weren't his normal attire, however, nor was it his armored rabbit-inspired accoutrements. Instead, the youngest Gegenji was wearing a lightly toned undershirt and a festively colored pair of pants and dark boots. The equally festive jacket lay somewhat dishevel across the bed, right next to a red stocking cap that was topped off in a very Moogle-like white pom-pom.

 

Part of Chachanji's day was to be spent in holiday efforts for the children of Ul'dah, both privileged and non. He had been practicing his stuffed rabbit-producing sleight-of-hand for most of the morning, and was ready and eager to go and brighten some spirits. He didn't quite understand the holiday all that much quite yet, but the Doman Lalafell was all about "halping" out and other such things. And a holiday that seemed in line with that was just peachy with him.

 

"Thankya kindly!" he piped up, flashing a cheerful grin to the postmoogle. That grin widened to a smile once he opened the letter and read the well-wishes within. And that smile grew larger still once he peered inside the parcel and discovered the tasty treat with its flowery frosting. It had to be a good holiday if cake was involved!

 

In no time at all, he had downed the cake. The energy and good feelings he had taken in from it would be put to good use that day as he entertained the children. Cracking his little knuckles, the youngest Gegenji gleefully practiced "Bunnytrick" one more time.

[Roen]

A leather bound book wrapped in red and white ribbons was delivered to Siha with a sealed letter.

 

“Dearest Siha,

 

I do not visit Gridania oft of late, my work has me mostly in Limsa and various corners of Thanalan. But whenever I find myself in the land of trees and elementals, I think of you. That is where we met, and where we have shared our first talks. Do you remember? You told me about your mother, and I about my father, under the canopy of red and gold leaves. Neither of us seemed to mind the rain that made the branches shiver.

 

You and Erik were my first family when I made my way to Ul’dah, kin not by blood but by oath.

 

I miss you.

 

I miss our talks, I miss your smile, I miss your voice.

 

I miss you.

 

I wish for us to have such times again. I hope to see you soon.

 

Happy Starlight to you dear sister.

 

~Roen”

Within the pages of the tome was a well pressed leaf of red and gold, one that would be found in Gridania.

[Roen]

A neatly wrapped package was left at a small house in the Mist, addressed to Gharen Wolfsong.

 

"Gharen,

 

While the circumstances in which I discovered the truth about my heritage was regretful, in the end it still gave me a brother I never knew I had. A strong man with a good heart, who has survived much hardship. I know you likely did not receive many holiday gifts when you were young, but as I have always said, it is never too late to catch up on family traditions.

 

Happy Starlight, my dear brother.

 

~Roen"

 

Enclosed within the package was a framed portrait of Eloise Windmark and her daughter, Aline Windmark, drawn by Aylard Greyarm's hand.

[Roen]

In Ser Crofte’s room sat a simple elegant vase with a single flower, a small note tucked under the vase.

 

“Such a simple thing, but it brought me a glimpse of hope even a windowless stone room. I hope this flower brings you the same during these trying times."

[Roen]

A note and a package wrapped in Starlight Festival colors were left to the care of Corporal Kokojo at the Immortal Flame Headquarters, addressed to Osric Melkire.

 

The note simply said, “So that we never have to cut.”

 

The small box held a single scalpel, its edge dulled.

[Siha]

The young Miqo'te woman had taken pains to pull her hair back and tuck it neatly beneath the masked turban she wore, not much of her face was even visible and yet somehow...a Moogle had found her and given her something simple. It was just a book upon first look but it was the letter that made all the difference, fears ebbed and eyes watered as the young woman tucked herself into an alcove to read it. The book lay on her lap for the moment, unopened, while she devoured the words on the page with a fervor unmatched by anything she'd felt lately. Roen. Her sister had not forgotten her on Starlight, no matter how far apart they had been and how little they had spoken she had not forgotten her.

 

The letter made her ache but in the best of ways, there was nothing painful about the tightening in her chest and if she'd known it was anything but tightening she would have said it was fit to burst instead. A smile tugged at her lips as she finished the letter, she remembered their talks all too well. They'd confided so much in one another, and each had understood the other more than the Miqo'te girl had ever thought someone could. Delicate fingers traced the leather cover of the book, savoring the gift, even if she'd never opened it she wouldn't have cared but when she did it brought the sting of tear to her eyes as she flipped through the pages and finally found the leaf within.

 

She was careful with it and only lifted it for a moment to examine the wonderful color, quickly pressing it back between the pages and cradling the book to her chest with a warm smile. She curled around the object and whispered to the pages, "I miss you too, Sister...Happy Starlight..."

[Kage]

"Hmm what's this?"

 

The blue haired lalafell blinked sweat from his eyes as he wiped his brow as he stood in the open door to his home. He still had on his smithing garb as he was just taking a breather in the fresh air while working on the wedding gift project. He slipped his smithing gloves off, tucked them into his belt and approached the red and white box with a visible amount of suspicion. Left, right, left, right. He blinked curiously trying to see if there were any clues to tell him what it was or who left it.

 

Of course, Kage's natural curiosity meant that he was carefully taking the red and white ribbons away and opening the box within seconds.

 

And stopped. Time froze as Kage peered at the box's contents for what seemed like moons but were only just a few minutes. He choked back a sob, smiling happily as he brought the box into the house.

 

Just a sun later, the lalafell re-emerged to the Goblet's streets. The lalafell was nicely dressed, carrying a few gifts. As he walked it was plainly obviously that though the suit didn't -quite- match completely, the white beret sitting atop his head would not be removed that day so easily.

[Roen]

Two items were left on the table by the door in Jajara's room: a single shiny fishing lure and a bag of freshly picked La Noscean oranges.

 

"To Miss Jara and Mister Chuchukepa,

 

Miss Jara, this is for all the words of wisdom you have shared with me for as long as I can remember. Even in our most casual conversations, there was always a new insight I had gleaned from your positive outlook. Perhaps this tackle can make its way onto that fancy fishing hat of yours, in hopes that we can use it again someday. I cherish our fishing trips together and the joy and peace they bring to my heart.

 

And the bag of oranges is for Mister Chuchukepa. I think he knows why.

 

Happy Starlight Festival to you both.

 

~Roen"

[Roen]

A wrapped package was left in care of Mister Bellveil, addressed to Kiht Jakkya.

 

“Kiht,

 

I saw this at the market. You seemed to favor them greatly over any other kind of fruit when we used to watch the Grindstone together. I know we have grown much since those days, but I still treasure those fond memories.

 

May the Starlight Festival find you well.

 

~Roen"

 

Enclosed within the box were strips of spiced dry meat of various flavor.

[Knight Kat]

Kiht Jakkya had her face pressed to the package as her nose sniffed the thing over and over again. Something good was inside it. She slowly opened the package as her mouth began to water.

 

Her eyes widened a bit as she grew a joyous smile. The memory came back to her. The sun when Roen was still a mercenary. It was the first time Kiht had acted so motherly towards someone. Roen had been rather weak and undernourished that day; likely from hard, underpaid mercenary work. She remembered Roen eating apples while at the Grindstone.

 

"You need to eat more meat." Kiht said as she repeated her statement from her memory. She knew apples were a healthy food, but a hard working huntress needed more meat in her diet. At least, that was where Kiht's mind had gone. Roen had made a jest about Kiht acting like a Matron. How amusingly ironic that Kiht was actually holding that title now.

 

After all the lecturing, Kiht ended up being the one who ate most of Roen's jerky. She had been so focused on helping Roen that she had forgotten how much her scouting in Thanalan had drained her. When Roen said the meat was too salty, and offered it to Kiht, she had taken it off Roen's hands.

 

Roen may not have known then, and still may not know now, that gifting food is a huge compliment in Kiht's culture. The simple gift of dried meats was one of the best gifts Roen could have gotten her. Kiht's eyes moistened as she bit her lower lip. She forced the tears to stay where they were with a strong sniffle. "Menphina, bring this woman under your gaze, and please bless her with some happiness for at least one dusk." Kiht muttered silently in prayer.

 

Kiht eyed the various dried meats fondly. She was already planning how she would ration them, and hide them from the others. It was a season of giving, but Kiht would not share these. These pieces of dried meats were a special reminder of simpler times.

[Nero]

The soft, telltale scratching of a quill on paper was punctuated by the rhythmic percussion of the chronometer ticking through its gears. Nero's office was silent save for the oddly harmonic presence of these two sounds. The face of the chronometer indicated that it was quite late in the night, and yet the smuggler had yet to cease working.

 

The paperwork was gargantuan amount of letters that needed to be sent never seemed to diminish. First was organising payment for informants, then certain authorities would need to be fed misinformation, and then another negotiation with a client for this or that, and all of that wasn't even taking into account the amount of bookkeeping needed to falsify the info on the smuggler's various front companies.

 

I should seriously consider a secretary. Or three. Nero flexed his hand briefly before folding the last letter, slipping it into an envelope before placing it on a respectable stack on his desk.

 

I'll just send these tomorrow, came the idle thought. His desk finally cleared, Nero's attention was brought to the small wrapped package sitting on the corner of his desk.

 

Garalt had passed it to him earlier that day, saying that Roen had brought it by. In his frenzied workaholicism, the smuggler hadn't deigned to open it yet. Was it for some kind of event? He pulled the small note out from under the simple-looking ribbon, silently mouthing the words as he read it. The Starlight Festival. It's just about that time of year, isn't it? Nero frowned slightly as he realised that he hadn't gotten anything in return for the paladin. What would she like? Something practical? No, something a bit more sentimental. Jewelry, maybe? Shoes? I never was very good at picking out gifts, he thought rather sardonically to himself.

 

That would have to be rectified, but first...

 

The ripping of wrapping paper sounded far too loud in the quiet office, and it was with some measure of surprise that the Hyur found himself with a small smile on his face. He would recognise that style anywhere: the strokes of the quill was unhurried, each line and curve deliberate and steady. The sketch itself was simple, more of an idle thought than a piece with genuine effort, but its simplicity captured the essence of the man who had created it.

 

There was always another side.

 

He leaned his head on one hand to steady himself as he stared at the albatross and an unexpected tide of emotions came to his mind. Sadness at the loss of his first mate. Admiration for the image and the frame. Anger that Daegsatz had been taken from him...and though he would never admit it, some slight joy that someone else was thinking of him.

[Roen]

A dish of distinct scent and flavor awaited Franz when he returned to his room at the Still Shore. His memories would be stirred in that they remind him of a certain Garlean dish, well liked in the Empire. A note was tucked just beneath the plate.

 

“Franz,

 

I know you must miss home. Sometimes I catch that melancholy behind your eyes. I miss it too at times.

 

This is a dish my mother used to make me every nameday, she did so love the flavor of garlic along with a few other mixture of spices. I have been taking some culinary lessons during my time in Limsa at Bismarck, and tried to have something prepared there that resembles it as close as possible.

 

I hope it brings back some fond thoughts of home as you enjoy it.

 

Happy Starlight to you,

 

~Roen”

[Roen]

A letter tucked into a beaten leather bound tome was delivered to Verad Bellveil’s estate, with two well made knives criss-crossed on top, all held together by festive ribbons in the colors of Starlight.

 

“Mister Bellveil,

 

An odd pair of gifts, I know. I have never known you to be a man of violence, or of the blade such as these. But, they do represent a part of who you were and I want to find out more about him. Do call upon me whenever you need. It actually gives me some measure of relief to know that you are learned in these weapons, knowing the danger I have put you through.

 

The book, with an appropriately aged cover and blank pages within, is for you to start a new memoir. One that actually chronicals your real life, the man you truly are. I am certain I will find it much more interesting, less scandalous, and more believable than the current one in circulation. Not that I begrudge those stories, they have brought me much laughter during my times of need.

 

And I am still looking forward to those adventures you promised, someday.

 

I hope your Starlight Festivities are blessed,

 

~Roen”

[Roen]

A small box wrapped in festive colors of Starlight arrived with a letter addressed to Delial Grimsong.

 

“Delial,

 

The past you and I share…I would never wish that on anyone. From the sun we first met in Little Ala Mhigo, no…you found me long before that, I would have never imagined the string of betrayals, death, and pain that you would bring. I still find myself bewildered that either of us still draw breath around the other, much less consider each other an ally...

 

I always wondered why Ala Mhigans worshipped Rhalgr, a god of destruction. But I have come to learn that many see him as a sign of rebirth, that in the wake of such suffering and wreckage, something new and stronger can be born. Something better.

 

I would like to hope that such is the nature between you and I and my brother. So I send this to you in spirit of Starlight, as a reminder that despite all that we have done, new beginnings that can still be forged.

 

~R”

 

Enclosed within the box was a necklace. It had a dark polished stone affixed to a leather strap. In the center of the stone there was carved symbol of Rhalgr that glimmered very faintly in the sunlight, revealing the slivers of crystal hidden within the black stone.

[Gharen]

Gharen Wolfsong was leaving the small home in wards of Mist in the evening, he had promised to do work on the home for the woman that owned the property from time to time as she was a friend of family. And she had lost her husband some moons ago, so it was the least he could do to help her.

 

He stepped outside and looked out over the ward, the sun hung low in the sky giving off a red hue to the clouds. He glanced down and took notice of a package that sat to the side of the door. Kneeling down to pick it up he saw that it was addressed to him from his sister, Roen. Leaving the yard with the package in hand to leave the district, he plucked the attached letter from the package, opened it up and read it quietly as he walked.

 

After reading it he folded it up neatly and and placed it in a pouch upon his tunic, she had been correct of course, after Ala Mhigo survival had become all he'd known, that was of course until he'd returned to Thanalan almost a cycle ago, and met the likes of Miss Jara, Roen, and others. He began to open the package, unwrapping it methodically.

 

When he reached the Gates of the ward, he stopped and stood there as he stared at the picture, stunned.

 

His parents had been targeted and killed during the occupation when he had been but only five cycles of age. Time passed, and he'd forgotten the sound of their voices, not long after that he'd forgotten their faces, they'd become wisps within his memory, ghosts that frequented both dreams and nightmares alike.

 

And yet there she was, the face of his mother, alongside a grandmother he never gotten to know, drawn in loving and meticulous detail years before he had been born by Aylard Greyarm, a man that when they had met had been Gharen's only link to his family, a link that had been lost when Aylard had died. Soon after, Nymeia had seen fit to return a link, in the form of Roen, his sister.

 

He smiled softly and began walking back to his camp as he did he occasionally gazed upon the piece of art, memorizing every feature, he would not forget his mothers face again.

[Roen]

A small box wrapped with thin red and white strips of ribbon was delivered to Gideon North, along with a note.

 

"Mister North,

 

I found this by happenstance; a goldsmith friend of mine had come across it in Limsa through another merchant who had held onto it because of sentimental reasons. I think he knew your previous master.

 

It may have belonged to them, but I believe you are all that remains of that house, and so now it should belong to you. You may only see yourself as a servant, but if your young master was as kind and generous as you described, I suspect he saw you a member of his own family.

 

You should have it. Happy Starlight to you.

 

~R"

 

Enclosed within the box are a pair of cufflinks, bearing a golden tree with three perforations within it.

[Banquo Viaquo]

He smiles faintly, and for the first time since Ms. Callae had taken the humble crest from his suit jacket, his breathing slows to a relaxed, comfortable calm pace. He sets aside the box and the loosened ribbon - of course, delicately removed without any cutting - and stares at them. There was still a twinge, looking at the insignia; the three points, one for each member of the family, and the tree itself.

 

A part of his mind told him that this should hurt. Even just seeing the emblem brought back memories of happier times, and the abrupt conclusion of them. As for donning them... Lady Deneith's sentiments were kind, but biased by experience. The Aerstorns had been the tree, and he himself was merely a leaf.

 

Even despite all that... he removed his gloves, and shakily took one of the cufflinks in hand. Golden, but certainly not gold. Sturdy metal, rigid and unbending. Somewhat worn and dappled with imperfections from their time away from the young master, but then again, the same could be said for him. There was a familiarity to them that, he reflected faintly, he would be unlikely to find in anything yet whole. It seemed almost disloyal to not feel that same ache, but when he held them between two fingers, he heard crackling fireplaces, smelled the faint sharpness of the young master's evening nightcap, felt the dense scratchiness of Limsa-woven blankets as he made the young master's bed...

 

He held onto them, passing them from hand to ungloved hand, staring faintly up at the ceiling. What was starlight itself, but a way to take comfort from things out of reach?

[Coatleque]

Coatleque had just sat down on the side of her bed. She had been back for less than an hour and had made ready to turn in before she noticed the vase on the end table. Looking around the room as if she expected someone to be there, she reached for the note with a smile. It could only be from one person in recent memory.

 

She had to read the words twice before she could believe them. "Roen..." she sighed. "Trying times... I pray you do not think less of me for what you may have heard."

 

Tucking the note back under the vase so she would not lose it, she blew out the lantern and rolled over to try and sleep.

[Roen]

A bouquet of white lilacs were laid in front of Natalie Mcbeef’s gravestone, though no one heard the whispered words of the cloaked woman who delivered them. She had stood in front of the grave in the rain with her head hung low, her face hidden beneath the heavy cowl.

 

Roen stared at the gravestone, the name etched there, and the numbers below it that marked the length of the Miqo’te’s life. Her former mentor’s life had been cut untimely short, but there was no doubt in the paladin’s mind that Natalie had lived every moment to the fullest. Drawing upon her own memories, Roen knew of some of those moments--some filled with tenderness, yes, but many of pain, anger, and violence.

 

Until the last few suns, Roen had tried to push thoughts of Natalie out of her mind. Her death had come while she was trying to hunt down someone Roen held dear; it had also been Natalie who had been responsible for so many tears, and so much suffering before that.

 

And yet...

 

The paladin could not forget the tender moments they had shared, the quietly-spoken words of trust and understanding, nor the smiles or small moments of laughter between them. Now that she stood before the Miqo’te’s grave, Roen knew that she did not want to remember her former mentor as she was in the last of her days. She did not want to remember her as an enemy. She wanted to remember her as a friend, a confidant, and her mentor who swore her into the Order of the Sultansworn. Natalie had accepted her despite her heritage, and also helped to clear both her name and that of Gharen’s from wanted charges as traitor and terrorist.

 

“I forgive you,” Roen finally said. “I forgive you for all the things that you did and all the things that happened. I cannot forgive you for him, nor for those whose lives you took. But I no longer hold hatred for you. I hope you found peace and clarity in the end, or after, wherever you may be.”

 

Roen knelt before the gravestone, laying the pendant of Nald’thal next to the lilacs. She stayed only a moment before she rose, turned, and disappeared into the storm.

[Melkire]

From hand to hand and sailor to sailor passed the little brown package, unmarked save for the label denoting the addressee. In sharp block letters was written, "To R.D., for N.L." By the time the little brown package reached its destination, a fortnight had passed since Starlight. 

 

Inside was no letter, no message. Only needle and thread.