The rain had surrendered to clear skies at last, and they wove through the bustling night market hand-in-hand. After passing fire-breathing performers with their dazzling displays, merchants hawking glittering trinkets, and hollow-eyed refugees begging with upturned hats, the night-veiled sea drew closer. As the salt-laden breeze tousled her bangs, Veronica took a bite of her newly purchased peach and gazed up at Leon with eyes wide with wonder.
“My goodness, this is divine! Quick, have a taste.”
They had ventured out together after she had confessed her craving for peaches. She was grateful she had insisted on accompanying him rather than allowing Leon to go alone. Patience had never been her virtue, and by the time he returned to their lodgings, her fickle desires would likely have shifted to something else entirely.
Leon, ever vigilant of their surroundings, couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the sight of her cheeks bulging with the fruit.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded.
“Because you’re utterly adorable.” Having deftly parried her mock indignation, he continued, “Are you keeping warm enough?”
“If I’m cold, bundled up like this, there must be something wrong with me,” she answered with exaggerated disbelief while savoring her fruit. “I feel like one of those plump, flightless birds they say waddle about on islands in the frozen north.”
Leon—who had been the one to wrap her in those multiple layers—seemed to finally appreciate how she must appear. Recognizing which creature she was comparing herself to, he erupted into hearty laughter.
“You’re impossible,” he said.
“Stop laughing.”
Though secretly delighted by the sound of his uninhibited mirth, she felt an inexplicable blush creeping up her neck. When she playfully struck him with her fist, Leon feigned mortal injury with theatrical flair.
After finishing their fruit, they purchased sticks for the falling-spark ritual from the vendor nearest the shoreline. These long wands, tipped with special charcoal pouches, were beloved traditions in coastal settlements—when ignited, they released cascading embers like falling stars.
The memory surfaced suddenly—she had mentioned wanting to do this on the day they spoke of the Foundation Festival.
“…It’s breathtaking,” Veronica murmured, her gaze captivated by the shower of golden sparks as Leon placed the lit wand in her hands. “Even after the rain, the flames dance so vividly.”
After spreading their cloaks upon the sand to sit, the only sound was the rhythmic murmur of midnight waves caressing the shore.
“I’m planning to summon Wittelsbach to Roberdin next month,” Leon said quietly.
“Wittelsbach… you mean Vice Commander Philip? I have no objections, but why?”
“To formalize our sacred vows, we require a priest who can stand as witness,” he explained. “Someone who knows my true name and lineage.”
The moment understanding dawned, Veronica’s eyes, previously entranced by the dancing flames, widened in sudden comprehension.
There, gracing her fourth finger where nothing had been before, gleamed a ring she had never beheld. When she whirled to face him, Leon met her gaze unflinchingly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a tender half-smile.
“When did you possibly…” she began.
On second thought, she realized she didn’t really need to ask. They had walked hand in hand through the twilight streets all evening, his fingers intertwined with hers.
“While I was away earlier, I had the fragments of our swords melted down and forged anew,” he explained. “I was afraid that they might not fit, but it seems all that time holding your hand has served me well.”
Now she noticed that his fourth finger, too, bore a band identical to her own. The remnants of Genesis and Apocalypse transformed into these symbols of eternity felt like divine blessing, stirring something profound within her. The world might forget them in time, but the heavens would remember them long after mortal memory faded.
“What do you say?” Leon asked.
Veronica’s lips trembled with emotion before she simply nodded, words failing her entirely. Only when he tenderly brushed her cheek did she realize that tears were flowing freely down her face. When the tears refused to cease, Leon gathered her into the sanctuary of his embrace.
Nestled against his warmth, she watched the eternal dance of the waves through a veil of joyful tears.
“Yes,” she finally whispered.
Legend spoke of a distant realm, never visited but whispered of in ancient tales, where wishes cast upon falling embers were heard by the stars themselves.
Divine Creator, I offer this final prayer—grant us the blessing of a tale that ends with “and they lived in happiness for all their days.”
Forge us into a family that can lean upon each other when our journey grows weary.
Allow us to live in such fullness that we need not search for You anymore.
This I beseech with all my heart. Amen.