Just like the bright milky stars in the night above, the room glimmers and shines with an ethereal light. It's as if nothing is real, as if this is just a fairy tale with its knights and lords and monsters, as if it's just a dream with its twinkling music leaking out from the walls and the band playing with unsteady hands. With how silent Lukedonia has been the past year in preparation for this day, it's only natural to feel this way.
As a new song starts, slower and more romantic though twinkling all the same, she watches Karias and Luciene laugh cheerfully into a dance. They're all over each other as they've been for the past millennia, as they've been for most of their lives, and she smiles softly at the vision through the haze. Though there are others dancing, the two have most eyes on them. It's hard to watch anyone else. Not for their children though, one happily flitting from one dance partner to the next, the other sitting flirting heavily with some civilians. They themselves haven't taken their eyes off of each other for a moment, laughing about one thing or another the whole time.
After an eternity, after just a few minutes, the song peters out and there they are in each other's arms, frozen in the dip signifying the end. Luciene reaches up to caress Karias' face. Karias smiles, and laughs at whatever it is Luciene whispers, though knowing them it's probably a simple- 'I love you'. Then he leans in. They gleam like the sun and moon, blinding like the light reflecting off ocean waves, and shimmer red as they disappear.
A beat passes.
Two more.
A new song starts.
She looks off to the side, a moment too late, because there's already that red glimmer there too. Margherita, she thinks, seeing the tears drip down Ignes' face as she stares where her younger brother had just been. 'You can't leave me alone like this,' she hears, as Ignes chases after her siblings, shattering.
Claudia steps forward after her, probably about to leave too, but her daughter clutches her hand. She's never once seen the girl's face. Still, it's obvious enough to her that she's crying behind her veil and under her hood as her body shakes and Claudia envelops her in a hug. Warm. Tight. Dear. It'll be a while yet before she can go.
Looking away elsewhere, Keiran and Romin talk with the heir of their clan, faces filled with confusion. A common occurrence, though it'll delay their parting. The expression suits them both, and she feels herself smiling again.
Close to them is that timid Drosia woman, accompanying the soon-to-be clan leader of the Drosia. Her brother went off to hunt down the useless one that hasn't even bothered to show up, and she's confident in his ability to convince her to give up Zulfiqar. She's given him some tips on it as well. Just in case.
Rozaria's son is talking to them, and Rozaria herself gives a little wave as she meets her eyes, grinning. Just like Claudia's daughter, her son is clinging to her. He's always been his mother's son. It does mean she'll take some time to leave though, and might be the last to. Maybe that's for the best. It'd be a shame if the stunning dress she wore didn't get to bathe in the warm sunlight after being awash in the moon's rays. It's good too because her own daughter is avoiding her with tears in her eyes, and will need her mother when she's gone.
The sudden click of heels on stone draws everyone's eyes. There, by the grand towering doors, is Ser Mevek with a hand on Ser Gejutel's arm. He tilts his head and smiles. Gentle. Knowing. And says, 'We will take our leave. Do enjoy yourselves.' They're being kind. Nobody would be able to handle seeing them die. Worse still, they all know that when the next Agvain clan leader comes to be, Lukedonia will be filled with anguished screams. As is, it's difficult enough to see them leave without that characteristic red, their children having gone quiet.
Mevek and Gejutel walk through the silence, through the forests and rivers and plains, through the desert and mountains and marshes. They take the long way. They meander and pause and rest often. They look at every part of their home that they've seen and experienced and loved in their long lives. And yet, before any time has passed at all, they're on the beaches of the Kravei.
They walk more still. Then they see what they knew was waiting for them. A lone figure stands in the black and silver ocean, hair pulled down with the weight of the water even as he looks up at the full moon.
"He came," Gejutel says, eyes soft.
"He did," Mevek confirms, taking his hand.
Leading him into the water, the figure turns, and they see an expression wrought with grief. They say nothing. They smile. They take him into their hands and arms. They laugh. They become young again. They sing and dance on land. They sing and dance in the sea. They disappear into the depths.
And they become the red glow that drifts up from the waves.
Sandwiched between Feng Mian and Fei Hung and Mo Chou, the heir of the Siriana watches the proceedings nervously. It's cute. Millennia, and she still hasn't grown used how some of the people can be. Maybe she never will. For her own sake, she hopes she does.
How else will she deal with those like Kei's daughter? The poor man is trailing after her even now to make sure she doesn't pick a fight. He really doesn't need to though. She's acting the same as she always does, but even she's noticed the way she's been blinking and her glossy eyes and- Ah. So he's following her as an act of comfort. He's always been strange in that way.
Not as strange as the lord's own children though. She's fussing over them as usual, neatening their hair. An attempt to neaten their personalities too, though it's never worked. Her daughter remains a flirt, and her son remains… spontaneous. It's not the right word but there really isn't any right word for him. The strangest part, of course, is the two's insistence on being co-lords. Lord Raskreia didn't understand, but acquiesced. Especially after their father, standing beside them even now, had said it'd be better than letting one or the other be lord alone.
The mood shifts when she finally steps back. When she sighs. When she smiles. When she looks out to everyone, and lets the red of her eternal sleep speak. Where she can't.
There is a loud sob from her son, and his father leads him out by hand, the elder Noblesse trailing after them. Her younger brother is in tears in the arms of his lover, Regis' daughter, who gives a nod to her father before leaving with him too. Without even looking, she knows that the Siriana sisters and Kei are gone. Keiran and Romin and Claudia too. Their auras disappeared with the previous lord.
Ludis and Rael are still kneeling in respect for her passing as Seira turns to Regis beside her to ask, 'One last trip then?' And they're still kneeling as the two leave the lord's sanctuary, Seira waving a last goodbye to Philemon who will stay for as long as Lukedonia's justice needs him. And she's quite sure they're still kneeling when they leave Lukedonia, though she's sure they'll stand up long before they return.
They go first to South Korea. It hasn't been called that for a long time.
It's where it all started, and often it feels as if it's where it all ended too. Even though that isn't true, what is true is that this is where many of their friends sleep. Unlike them, it's in the ground, and so unlike them, they've long become part of the wider world. Their graves remain though. So even now, when leaving this time means that they will leave forever, they will still be remembered.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" Seira asks as she looks at Suyi and Yuna's resting place.
Regis responds matter of fact as always, even though the way he fiddles with his cross and braids makes his grief plain, "I never did understand why theirs is shared."
"They loved each other."
"What about them?" he asks, looking at Ik-Han and Shinwoo's graves, "They did too."
"Shinwoo didn't like his design."
"Tch. He didn't even die then. Couldn't he have pretended to?"
Seira snorts, smiling, "He was very choosy for an Agvain. I don't understand either."
And she never will. He's long since passed as Agvains tended to do.
Instead of dwelling on it, she walks, Regis matching her steps- "I do like Tao's most."
He heaves a deep sigh, "It is very like him."
"Isn't it?" she says, wondering if after all these years her voice manages to convey the delight she feels.
"It is," Regis murmurs, looking at Tao's faded one-to-one life-sized statue, "…I wish we could have been there when he passed."
"So do I, but-" Seira smiles back at the Noblesse who float through the graves- "He wasn't alone."
Regis watches her for several minutes, then says, "That's good," and looks back to the statue, eyes soft.
They visit the places they used to call home before leaving for France. Few people can remember that name easily these days.
A man is gardening when they arrive and he looks up at them, his third eye unblinking, and smiles. Seira lowers her head, Regis settling for a proper bow. It's only the respect someone so ancient deserves.
"It's been a while. Come to visit Musa again?"
"Yes," Regis says, "To say our goodbyes."
"…Ah-" sadness lines his brow and mouth, and his third eye blinks before squeezing shut- "I forget how short-lived even you nobles are."
It's not something either she or Regis can respond to. There is nothing in this world, from this world, that has lived as long as they nobles can. Even the youngest of their adults are more than four times the age of the oldest humans. And yet here he is, a human more ancient than the world itself.
He stands when he realises they have nothing to say, and smiles again- "I'll go make you two some tea. Come inside after you see him, okay?"
Seira nods, and follows Regis to the tree that is Musa's grave.
In the beginning it had been foreign to call M-21 that, but it was the name given to him by his parents. One laid next to him in the dirt along with his own mother now, and the other would never get that privilege.
She doesn't have anything to say. Neither does Regis. Even though they have come to say their farewell, now that they're here they know it does not need to be said aloud. Musa would have known it easily. And yet. Even though they need not say a word, even though all is done, she murmurs a soft goodbye.
Regis doesn't.
All he does after standing there with her for so so long, is mutter, "You bastard."
They head inside soon after. For the tea, and to say goodbye to the noble husband of the ancient man who had taught them both many things. Who would stay for as long as the world allowed him, even though that would still be nothing more than a speck to the eons the ancient man would have to live through.
The last place they visit in the human realm is Wales, and here the name remains.
Regis' braids whip wildly with the wind, and that's how Seira knows that he wants to cry at how Takeo's grave has long been lost to the weather. He is a Landegre though, just like she is a Loyard, and so neither of them will cry.
They do know the meadow he was laid to rest in, even if it's filled with trees now. They wander through it, and she's glad she rid herself of her hair long ago since she's sure she would be like Regis too. Having to pull her hair out branches and brambles and bushes would only make her feel worse.
It doesn't help to remember the pain that Takeo lived with his entire life. Yet how can they not remember when it is the same thing that gave him the love that steadied him through his suffering? The Union had torn his entire family to shreds, but at least he remained. At least one of them could return home.
Their grief settles with the wind, and they leave with it. Lukedonia waits for their return.
They go together first to the home of the Noblesse and go down below to where the statue of Ser Raizel stands. They stand with him a while. And then they go outside to the flowers Frankenstein was buried under. Seira keeps her hands to herself even as she wants to trim the chaos; they wouldn't be his anymore if she did.
After, Seira visits the garden where her various human lovers rest alone as Regis goes to check on his daughter to make sure she hasn't caused any trouble. It's a futile excuse he makes. It's as if he forgets that she knows him best and won't know that he simply wants to hug her one last time.
She doesn't bring it up when he returns to where she's sitting at a little table overlooking the Loyard rose gardens though, a parasol set up for shade and a proper set of snacks laid out to accompany their tea. All she does is tilt her head and he blushes, sitting down with a huff. They don't need words to speak. They like to use them though, if only to fill the silence Lukedonia won't for the time being.
"Ludis and Rael have already left on their honeymoon," Regis says, slicing up a cake with ease, "They didn't give any sort of estimate either."
That isn't what human honeymoons actually are, but it's not as if Regis is unaware of that. It's just what all of them called the trip the two had decided to take after announcing that they wouldn't be entering eternal sleep even after passing on their soul weapons to their children. Seira wants to envy them and yet-
"Of all the clan leaders, it's the ones who didn't have any problem children who decided to do such a thing. Aren't they afraid?"
Regis snorts, doling out a slice of cake for them both, "Why should they be? They're happy because they don't have hellish idiots like the rest of us. I can't stay for even a century longer if it means cleaning up after my daughter."
"That's true," Seira says, taking a bite, "It's worrying that so many of the new clan leaders are like this though."
With a frown, Regis responds, and they continue to talk. She's not sure if they've ever talked this much all at once before. Probably not. They aren't the type to do so. Today is just a special day.
"We're leaving a mess," Regis says, annoyed, when their cups and plates are empty.
Plenty of snacks remain, and there isn't supposed to be any sort of table out here in the first place, but Seira doesn't give it a second thought.
"You said it before didn't you? We've been cleaning up after our daughters for so long. They can clean up after us this time."
Regis meets her eyes, and smiles- "I suppose they can. Should we go then?"
She nods- "We should."
Their daughters are coming their way. All they see at first, is the gentle red leaking through the trees and the lush green grass. It reminds them of something familiar. Of something they should know.
When they make it through the trees, to the cliff top overlooking the Loyards, all that awaits them is a tea party. A table full of food, and two chairs devoid of life.