A hand rested on Celica’s shoulder. She started and looked up. It was Ragna. He also in turn reflexively jerked his hand back as if burned “Er, you looked upset, I get that, I feel a wrench in my gut seeing this old place too…”

Celica smiled softly at Ragna’s attempted comfort and reached to gingerly touch the top of his hand, right on the crimson metalwork on his glove, standing up. He had grown so much, so much had changed. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to protect him or his siblings of for long. Kokonoe had told her the details of what had happened to the three children after she had been burned down with the pile of ashes before her all those years ago. He had suffered so much, all three of them had. But he was still here, standing in front of her, not a spark of that resilience gone from his eyes. Her other palm met his, her voice projecting on a version of her that she had yet to even live. A gentler, wiser her. A new mother to a scared young boy just trying to protect what little was left for him.

“It’s okay Ragna, We’re safe now.”