Destiney took notice of that silent tear, simply choosing to lean against him. A silent offer of support and shared sorrow. The person was different yet the pain was similar. She knew all too well the feelings he was talking about. Only for her it wasn’t a sibling but her own father.
“All we can do is believe that they are watching over us and forgive us for being young and foolish. That they realize how much we loved them despite not getting one last chance to tell them.” She fiddled with the edge of a sleeve on her jacket. “And in time… Learn to forgive ourselves.”
“I was so angry with my parents when they sent me to Ishgard so they could join the fighting against the Garleans. I never told either of them that I loved them when I left. My father died in that fighting. For a long time I never forgave myself for it. I blamed myself for it. Yet I know that is not what he would have wanted. It took me a long time to realize it. He would have been ashamed of the things I did but he still would have loved me because that is what family should do.” She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. “Yet at times I still wish I could have that second chance to say it. I wish I could say it gets easier. But no two people handle things exactly the same way. All I can do is offer to be here for you. As someone who understands.”
“She forgave me,” Basteaux says with a frustrated huff of a sigh. “She knew that… she knew that she was dying, so she wrote to me. How cruel to forever have that final word without allowing the other time to respond.” He swipes the back of his hand across this face to dash away the rogue teardrops.
“It’s not precisely my fault she died, and yet… I already have enough blood on my hands, I can’t help but feel responsible for what befell her, as well.” He looks down at his hands: calloused and strong with long, nimble fingers. “I’m sorry to hear of your father,” he adds awkwardly, unsure what else to say. Is there some additional socially acceptable thing to go along with condolences? Still unsure, Bast reaches over to give Destiney’s hair another little ruffle. It’s something he used to do with his little brother, a silent gesture of affection.
More hair ruffles?! Destiney repressed the urge to squeak in surprise as a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. Not that she had any intention of asking him not to do so. It was… Nice. She was enjoying the feeling of having someone show her the kind of affection she had always doted on her brother as kids. For once not having to be the bigger sibling.
“Sounds like she knew you loved her. Even if you would never get the chance to say it. At least she had a chance to say goodbye even if it wasn’t in the best way possible. I was glad for that chance with Leon. A chance I never got with my father. Death… Well seven hells Death sucks. No way to put that nicely. We just do what we can to grieve and find a way to push forward. We’ll always miss them though eventually the grief gets a little easier. They wouldn’t want us to mope forever. I know my father wouldn’t want that. Archer or Healer. As long as I’m moving forward, I’m sure he’s happy. I’m sure your sister would want you to be happy too once you’ve had time to mourn her loss.”
Destiney watches with an amused smile as Daisy lightly dances through the air, just barely skimming over the water nearby. “There is more to life then sorrow and pain. All we have to do is find what helps to make our hearts a little bit lighter. The pain a little less wicked. Sometimes it is complex and sometimes it is something simple. It just takes a little time to mourn and then find what makes our hearts crave something better again. Such as a warm sunny meadow filled with the gentle sounds of a harp.”
Spirit of the Warlock 