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    Tala took a deep breath, closing her eyes and gilding her resolve.

    Rane stood next to her, arm across her back, hand on her waist, holding her close tucked into his side.

    Terry sat on her shoulder between the two, snuggled into both of them.

    Rane spoke first. “Are you ready?”

    She nodded, fidgeting with her dress. It was unusual for her to wear one, but it had seemed appropriate.

    Well, truthfully, her tunic was essentially the same one that she always wore. She had simply replaced her slacks with a skirt that hung down to around her ankles.

    It was a large skirt in the sense that it had a lot of fabric that hung in overlapping folds running vertically down its length. It neither hugged her tightly, nor would it get in the way of essentially any movement she cared to make.

    …But she was distracting herself. Tala looked up at Rane and gave a sad smile. “I’m ready.”

    Together, they opened a portal to where their unit was waiting outside of their sanctum.

    Master Clevnis was the first person she saw, but he stepped aside to let his wife and Mistress Vanga enter first. Surprisingly, another woman was there as well, one that Tala and Rane had only met a handful of times, partially due to the fact that she was still only Fused.

    Well, it wasn’t surprising really that she was here. Tala had seen her waiting with Tala’s old unit before ever opening the portal, but she hadn’t quite expected her this morning.

    Right… distracting myself again.

    The woman was, of course, Master Limmestare’s wife, and her aura was indeed, barely a hair’s breadth from Refined. She just needed one, maybe two more sessions—and the solidity of her aura meant that it had been quite a while since she’d had one—but that wasn’t the focus of the day.

    Tala stepped forward, out of Rane’s embrace, and opened her arms to the woman. “Mistress Rabetha, thank you for coming. It is good to have you.”

    Mistress Rabetha was only a bit taller than Tala—not accounting for her hair, which was piled in a stylized manner on top of her head—but more slenderly built. Her round face and blue eyes held a deep sadness, even as she smiled and returned the greeting and offered hug. “Thank you for having us, Mistress Tala. I think that it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing here.”

    The rest of them exchanged greetings with both Tala and Rane before the couple led them over to where only a few days earlier Master Grediv had had tea with them.

    The table was bigger now, having been replaced for the larger number of people, and there was a commensurately larger amount of food—not even accounting for the fact that this was breakfast rather than tea.

    The group chatted about small things as they ate, the final topic being one of familial relations. Apparently Master Clevnis and Mistress Cerna’s great-great-great-granddaughter had graduated from the Academy almost a year back, and they’d only just gotten the ‘family’ announcement.

    The couple had thought it funny rather than sad as they had only been vaguely aware that the girl had been born. Apparently, Mistress Cerna was heavily involved with the local branch of their descendants—mainly by dint of each subsequent generation specifically and intentionally building relationships with her—but otherwise, they didn’t really have much contact with their descendants.

    Master Clevnis joked that they’d considered having ‘another crop’ of kiddos, but Mistress Cerna just smiled and shook her head. “I’ve had… enough children for the time being. The having and raising is a joy. It’s the burying that I can’t…”

    Her voice had faded then, as she realized that she’d inadvertently brought them to the very topic they were here for. She gave an apologetic look toward Tala, but Tala just gave a small smile in return. “Breakfast is done, Mistress Cerna. It’s more than fine. Master Girt is not with us, but I think he would have enjoyed this meal in his honor.”

    There was a round of nods at that sentiment.

    “Please grab any last drink or bit of food if you wish—it will be here when we return as well—and let us take a walk through the garden.”

    They all stood, doing just as she’d suggested.

    The group moved toward the Path of Remembrance, a somber atmosphere slowly growing over them.

    In truth, they’d all experienced enough death—had enough friends and family pass—that this wasn’t a new experience for them. Tala and Rane were the closest to an exception to that rule, but they were getting all too used to the feelings of loss as well.

    Even so, Master Girt had been a bit different. The rest of the unit had known him for centuries in various capacities. They’d all known his wife as well before her passing, and so it was a more poignant loss than even many of their children had—or would have—been, when looked at from a certain point of view.

    That knowledge of deep loss settled upon them as they walked through the statues that Rane had already been able to place. Tala and Rane gave a few words about each, and the others responded with quiet moments of reverie before they all moved on.

    Finally, they came to the statue of Master Girt and Mistress Stonia.

    Master Clevnis actually took a step back, tears welling in his eyes after Tala felt his magical senses brush across the stone.

    Mistress Vanga covered her mouth, sinking to sit beside the path.

    Mistress Rabetha turned and embraced her husband, burying her head against his chest, and Mistress Cerna stood stock still in shock.

    Master Clevnis was the first to speak. “It’s like he’s standing right there, whole again now that she is at his side.” He took hesitant steps over to Rane before clapping the broader man on the shoulder and then drawing him into a hug. “I can’t express… to be able to be with them one more time, even if just in feel… It is worth more than anything.”

    Mistress Vanga was the next to come and give Rane an embrace. “Truly, you have honored their memory as few can. I’m aware of the technique of duplicating auras, but those that I’ve encountered have never felt… this real? This alive?” She shook her head. “Regardless, it is masterfully done.”

    Rane gave a sad smile in return as each other member of their group came to offer their thanks. “I believe that it is Kit—and the sanctum as a whole—that allows the aura to have more… completeness. It is inefficient to the extreme for what it does, but that hardly matters here. That is a part of it. Moreover, I think another of the keys is that it runs off of pure power, rather than being magic-bound to someone.”

    A round of slow nods came back to him, and Mistress Cerna expressed what many of them must have been thinking. “That does track. To be able to leave efficiency aside, and then not introduce the tinting of another’s power…” She nodded again. “I can see how that would drastically improve the clarity and accuracy of the results.”

    They fell into silence, then, drawing around the statue of the pair, each seemingly succumbing to their own thoughts, feelings, and memories.

    Expressions flickered across the faces of those so gathered. Finally, Master Limmestare broke the silence. “I met him first when I was just Fused. He was newly Refined, and he was assigned to me because I was… I was struggling.”

    He put an arm around Mistress Rabetha, drawing her close.

    “He listened to me whine and complain about the process, the pain, and the recovery. He asked questions, and shared his own experience. He never once made me feel ashamed for my hesitation, nor for my fear.”


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    There was a pause before Master Limmestare barked a laugh.

    “In our last meeting, though, I finally asked him how he’d done it. The man sat silently for near to five minutes before he finally nodded and simply said, ‘My beloved was Refined, and I couldn’t imagine living without her, nor forcing her to be without me.’ He then shook his head and smiled. ‘It was pretty easy after that.’” Master Limmestare had pitched his voice to more closely match Master Girt’s, but it was still a bit off. Regardless, the idea came across. The Refined grimaced, then laughed. “The rusting man knew that I was pursuing a Refined.” He squeezed Mistress Rabetha, causing Tala to frown, but she didn’t interrupt. “And his reason was a punch to the gut.” After a visible swallow, he shook his head. “I underwent the next session the next day and didn’t delay again until the process was complete.”

    In the momentary pause—which was heavy with expectation, Tala cleared her throat. “Alright, I’ll bite. How does that make sense? Mistress Rabetha isn’t Refined… right?”

    Master Limmestare kissed his wife’s cheek and chuckled, the woman rolling her eyes as she finished the story. “As it turned out, the woman he was interested in had used that as an excuse. She simply wasn’t interested in him, but she was trying to be ‘kind’ in the rejection.”

    Rane winced beside Tala. “Ouch.”

    Master Limmestare chuckled. “Yes and no. I’m still grateful to her, even now that she’s passed.” He kissed his wife’s cheek again. “If I hadn’t Refined, I’d never have lived long enough to meet my sweetheart here.” He glanced down and shrugged. “I became an Archon late and Fused even later. I’d have missed her by more than a century without Refining.”

    Mistress Rabetha kissed her husband’s cheek in turn. “And I have been grateful to Master Girt, and to that woman, every decade since my Lim found me.”

    That started a new round of storytelling, these far more personal and intimate than those shared in the aftermath of Eskau Meallain’s capture.

    With centuries of relationship, there were more tales than could likely ever be told, but that didn’t hamper them.

    Finally, as the time for lunch came and went, they wound the storytelling down. Terry began the process of ‘final’ goodbyes by flickering to Master Girt’s shoulder and headbutting the statue’s face, gently nuzzling in before letting out a mournful, farewell trill.

    After that, each member of the group came forward to touch the statues, saying quiet goodbyes before they all moved back out of the Path of Remembrance and to a refreshed layout of food.

    Lunch passed a bit more somberly than breakfast had, but there was still an almost overpowering sense of camaraderie.

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