Cyran rested his head on Cirice’s shoulder, suspended in the water as he listened to Cirice talk about dinner with so much animation in her expression and light twinkling in her eyes that he felt compelled to listen with rapt attention, as always. She was describing a lot of food… an awful lot.

Cyran’s brow furrowed. “All that for me? Your parents didn’t have to go through… all that trouble. I didn’t bring them enough in return.” He paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever had raw fish… only cooked. But all that sounds good.”

He closed his eyes, content. “I’m happy to be here too, Cirice. Seeing your home, getting to be part of your family, if only for a minute…” It was an illusion, he was sure of it. If he opened his eyes, it would all disappear in smoke. But oh, was it a lovely one.

“It’s been an awfully long time since I’ve had family.”

The moment seemed to stretch on lazily, a remnant of a time spent huddled in a tent away from the world. Just two people happy to carve out a small moment of peace with each other once more.

If he could find a way to bottle up this memory and keep it forever, he would in a heartbeat.

“It wasn’t any trouble. Like you said, you’re family. We wanted to welcome you like family.” Cirice says softly, kissing the shaved part of his head gently, “I don’t know about that… You’ve got me and Iryla. You’re not alone. Maybe its a weird non-traditional family, but it’s family all the same.”

She wraps him in her arms, in a hug warmer even than the water around them. The peaceful moment stretches on until Cirice feels she might also doze off and she yawns softly.

“We can take as many baths here as you like. I hope you’ll stay for some time. Even after the festival is over. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

It was hard for her not to spoil the surprise right then and there but she holds her tongue. “Ready to get out and get dressed? I’ll tie your obi for you!”

They leave the warm water and head into the dressing room to dry off and get into their yukata. As its Cyran’s first time Cirice helps him, making sure everything is folded and tucked and tied correctly before getting herself dressed. Her yukata is in a simple geometric pattern covered in stars at the vertices.


“You look amazing! Even better than I’d imagined!”

Cyran froze when he felt Cirice kiss his forehead. In the steam and the warmth addling his mind he wondered if he had imagined the soft motion. As well as the words she said next.

His cheeks flushed, and not from the heat. “I… of course.” He had Iryla, and Cirice, and countless others - Cyran was not alone anymore. “It’s just been so long since I’ve had a proper family that I’ve forgotten what it’s like. But you and everyone else have shown me again.”

He returned the hug, arms feeling heavy from the fatigue and the water. From the sound of things, Cirice was growing as sleepy as he was. “I would not want to impose. But I would love the change to get to know you and your family. I’ll contribute around the house and help cook and clean and whatever you want.” He shot her a playful grin. “After all, if I’m family and not a guest, then it’s only fair I pull my weight. But I’d love to enjoy this home and bathhouse with you for as long as you’d allow me.”

“Obi?” He had no idea what that was. “I’m going to need some help getting ready.”

Cirice went through the motions of showing him how to wear a yukata, a purple outfit with what looked like dragons along the side. He spread his arms out, allowing Cirice to get a good look at his outfit and make sure that everything was in working order. Yeux had made a home in the warmth of his sleeve - the only other piece of jewelry that stood out was Del’s hearth day gift still hanging from a chain around his neck.

“You think so?” He rubbed at the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure the fierceness of a dragon fit him the way that the ever-present gentle guiding light of the stars fit her. “You look beautiful.” The look was different from her usual traditional moonglade dresses and frills.

“… Do you think I look presentable enough for your parents?” He sounded rather sheepish. “… And learn how to use chopsticks? I won’t make a fool out of myself, will I?”

“Well we actually have a couple servants here, so you don’t have to worry too much about housework.” Cirice teases him, “Just think of this as your second home. A place to return to when you need a vacation.”

“You look perfect.” She announces with a gleeful smile as he’s fully dressed. “Don’t worry, you won't make a fool of yourself in the slightest, trust me. Let’s go!”

She takes his arm, careful not to disturb Yeux, and leads him to a dining room. The whole house smells wonderful, a mix of spices and herbs flavoring the air. The table is quite low to the ground and surrounded by soft-looking pillows. On one side sits Cirice’s father, who bows to them as they enter.

“Excellent timing, dinner is just ready. Please, have a seat.” He inclines his head to the pillows across from him. Cirice plops down and settles in, waiting for Cyran to follow her lead before she takes up the chopsticks and shows him how to hold them and move them.

“Its fine to eat with your fingers if this is too difficult, too. No one will be upset. Our food is finger-friendly!” Cirice announces as her mother rejoins them, sitting beside her husband.

“Good we’re ready.” Lyleth smiles. “Begin.”

A pair of maids enters the room and silently sets a dish of appetizers before each of them. Its thin slices of raw fish placed carefully on small pats of rice. Cirice and her family pick up their chopsticks, holding them as they clasp their hands together as if in prayer and say together, “itadakimasu!”

Then they start digging in.

Servants? Cirice had mentioned them before, he remembered. She was more well off than he’d thought. He resisted the urge to mention that even when he himself had servants he still worked around the house just for something to do with his hands. “I’ll try to keep that in mind for as long as I’m here.”

Cirice linked their arms together once they were all ready and put together. The dining room had a low table surrounded by pillows Cyran realized they were meant to sit on. Cirice’s father was already sitting there when they entered, giving them a respectful bow that Cyran returned after a moment’s pause. “Thank you for having me, Master Tsukinaga. Cirice was telling me about the foods you had prepared and I am honored to try.”

Cirice went through the motions of trying to teach him chopsticks. They were not as difficult to use as he’d first anticipated. Cyran was one of those whose coordination was not uneven between hands - both were equally as dexterous, so he merely shifted hands until he found a position most comfortable. Within a couple of minutes he had no problem handling them.

He tried to mimic their motions as everyone put their hands together - a prayer? And repeat the words they were saying. “… Itadakimasu…” He mumbled under his breath, barely audible over the sounds of people beginning to pick up plates and bowls and dig in.

The appetizer was the raw fish that Cirice had mentioned before. Cyran didn’t hesitate to try a piece, surprised to find that though the texture was different than what he’d expected, there was a lot of flavor in that piece. He flashed Cirice an excited thumbs-up, mouthing, it’s delicious to her. He didn’t say anything, though. Meals back in his old home had been shared in silence, and he didn’t want to be rude and speak when silence was expected.

So he sat back, content to watch Cirice and her parents interact. It was good to see her in her element. She shined, even when she was out and about in places unknown, but here, she looked truly happy.

Cirice watches him eat with anxious anticipation and when he mimes and mouths at her she tilts her head in confusion as to his silence.

“You like it? I’m so glad!” She trills excitedly, “When something is delicious we say “Oishii! It means ‘delicious or tasty’ in common. Its a great compliment to the cook.”

“Please do not be shy Master Cyran, you are our honored guest.” Lyleth smiles, “I know the traditions here are strange compared to that of Eclipse City and the rest of Moonglade, but I promise you they are much more friendly and inviting as you come to learn them. There is a formality to it, but not at the sake of joy. You can relax.”



The next course is brought out while they converse, a light soup that smelled of meat and mushrooms. It is a small bowl, meant to cleanse the pallet between courses and is quickly finished. A heavier course comes after, with seasonal sushi in the fish that is most popular in the spring, manta glider meat, and some lightly braised cuts of beef.

“Master Cyran, our daughter has told us much of your travels and adventures together. She tells us that you are a man of great care and concern, a man with a large heart and ample kindness that protected her and encouraged her in the darkest of situations.” Seto begins, setting his chopsticks down and looking at Cyran seriously, his eyes warm and grateful, “My wife and I are not adventurers, we are simple tradespeople. When Shizuki was called by the Mother Moon to leave our shores and spread Her grace and wisdom we were very concerned, but we had faith. It seems our prayers were answered in you.” He bows his head in reverence.

“Just so, and that is why we would like to ask something of you, if you would.” Lyleth also bows her head, “Please become our daughter’s godfather.”

Cirice too bows her head to him, peeking up at him through her eyelashes, hoping he will accept and isn't overwhelmed.

“Oh… my apologies. I didn’t mean to offend.” He bowed his head, shy. “A large portion of my youth was spent in Eclipse City. Meals and customs are very different there. Even when we spent time together, we were alone. I very much appreciate the chance to get to know your family, and to be welcomed in turn.” He forced his shoulders to relax as the next course was brought out for them to share. He enjoyed the soup and the sushi while he got to learn a little more about Cirice’s family and their life in the Crescent Idles. He shared some tidbits about his own youth, slowly opening up more and becoming more at ease over the course of the meal.

It was towards the end of the meal that Master Seto caught Cyran’s attention, voice more solemn than it had been before. Cyran tilted his head, listening to Cirice’s description of him - a generous one, he thought, especially when they expressed that they thought him an answer to their worries. Where were they going with this…?

His internal questions were answered a moment later as both Master Seto and Mistress Lyleth bowed so low that their heads practically touched the floor, making the last request that Cyran ever thought he’d hear.

The chopsticks clattered to the table where they slipped out of his hand.

There’s no way. There’s no way they’re asking me of all people. They don’t know what I’ve done… what I haven’t done.

If they knew, they wouldn’t ask this of him.

He turned to Cirice, disbelief evident in his gaze, when he noticed that she was bowing in the same manner as her parents, peeking up at him with expectant eyes, wondering how he would react. She didn’t look shocked in the slightest. She… knew this was going to happen.

She’d invited him here expecting this.

Something small in Cyran clicked into place. Something he hadn’t felt since the day Marlow was ripped out of his arms and he was thrown on the street, unable to care about anyone but himself. There’d been no room for others while he learned how to survive, and to kill. He yearned, but he was a pragmatist, first and foremost. Cyran knew back then that he would never be able to have such things again.

Until now.

“I’m flattered… I don’t know what to say.” Cyran started, breaking the silence. He wasn’t sure what to look at - eventually, his gaze settled on Cirice.

When he spoke, his voice was a broken whisper, raw and bloody with an unidentifiable emotion. Perhaps it was hope.

“Is this truly something you would want…?”

Cirice looked up at him with a confused expression, "Of course it is! You're my best friend's dad and you already parent me and keep me out of trouble!"

Oh.

Cyran didn’t have any words as he put a hand on Cirice’s shoulder, scooping her up into a tight hug. She hadn’t just just gone along with this. She’d chosen him, of all people.

“I… yes. Yes, of course, always. I’d already planned to watch over her for as long as I am able - make sure she is safe and happy for the rest of my days. If that is a title you truly wish for me to hold, then I will be happy to carry it.” Then, quieter, “Thank you.”

Cyran had bore many titles in his life. Heir of the Fenastra clan. Exile. The Specter, the living shadow.

But Cyran, Godfather of Cirice Lunestre, was the one that sounded the best to him.

Cirice snuggles into Cyran’s arms, her chin resting on his shoulder, “I’m glad.” She whispers, her own anxiety and fear that he would refuse fading away with the tension in her shoulders. “Thank you Cyran.”

Lyleth and Seto raise from their bows, their eyes full of tears and their smiles warm and grateful. “Thank you, you honor us so much, Master Cyran. We welcome you into our family, for now and always. Please consider this your home as much as any other place.”

From beneath the table Seto pulls a small ornamental piece out and offers it to Cyran, a dagger, sheathed in gold with delicate sakura blossom details and designs. As he opens it the blade is also adorned with intricate deans of sakura and waves. He presents the sheathed knife to Cyran.

“This is a symbol, of your vow to protect and guide our daughter. Please accept this tanto with our humble gratitude.”

“Thank you for accepting me.” Cyran whispered, before angling his head to nod as much as he could at Master Seto and Mistress Lyleth while he still held tight to Cirice. “All of you.”

In a moment, Cirice released her grip on him while Master Seto pulled something out from under the table. Cyran recognized what it was immediately - he’d left his own behind in his room, but Cyran’s blades were an extension of himself. He knew the look and feel of a knife as readily as he knew his own hands. This one was far more ornate than the ones he used for work, cherry blossom petals and gold flakes adorning the sheath, one that concealed an even more beautiful blade.

This blade was the kind that Cyran hoped he would never have to draw lest he sully its design with blood.

He pulled it out of the hilt, muscle memory taking over as he gave it an experimental twirl in his hands. Deft fingers toyed with hilt and blade with the grace of someone who had done this countless times before. Its weight was sturdy and solid in his hands.

“Beautiful.” He murmured.

With smooth movements, Cyran sheathed the blade once more, holding it in a white-knuckled grip, feeling every bit the weight of what he’d been granted. “Cirice is one of the kindest souls I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Getting to see her home and meet the people who raised her, I can see where she gets her admirable traits from. I have nothing to give to you in turn, but I happily offer my blades in service to protect both Cirice and yourselves.”

Master Seto and Mistress Lyleth likely didn’t know the power of the promise they had been granted. For an assassin like him, his word was not handed out so lightly, and there were few who were willing to dirty their hands as much as him to do what needed to be done. Gods be willing - or whatever damned entities governed the realm now - he would be able to keep that promise.

Because he already knew in the pit of his heart he would follow Cirice wherever she needed him and keep her safe, or die trying.

Seto gives him another deep bow, “Your presence is a gift to our household. I hope we never need to ask such a thing of you, may your blades protect and serve those you love and care for, Master Cyran. It is obvious you are skilled, seeing your deftness is greater than hearing about it.” He smiles warmly, “That you agree to have our daughter like your own is more than enough for us.”

“Yes. You’re just as Shizuki said you were, meeting you has been a pleasure and a balm for my worries.” Lyleth adds, “I am sure that you two were brought together for a reason, Mother Moon surely blessed us greatly in knowing you. Please stay here with us as long as you like, and enjoy all that we may offer. Nothing can repay the kindness you have done our family, we only hope to be able to include you here.”

Cirice is grinning ear to ear, beaming so brightly between her parents and her newly minted godfather that the room seemed almost brighter. The family finishes the meal in comfortable conversation, Lyleth and Seto sharing some of their most interesting stories of their mundane lives and Cirice sharing some tales from her travels that she hadn’t had the chance to tell Cyran about yet. All too soon the hour grows late and Lyleth smiles gently.

“I am sure you are quite tired, Master Cyran. Please rest well. If you find your room to be lacking in anything let me know. I can get you just about anything. As you are a member of this household now that room is formally yours, now and always. Please feel free to make of it what you want and require.”

The continued compliments felt entirely too much. Cyran could only nod, overwhelmed at their kindness, the sheer force of their gratitude and love. “… You are far too kind.” He would try to be worthy of that affection.

He spent the rest of the meal in a daze of sorts, listening to Cirice regale him and her parents of stories from her adventures. Master Seto and Mistress Lyleth shared some of their own comings and goings about the island, peaceful stories that felt like a balm against his heart. He shared some from his own travels - light ones that were appropriate to speak about at the dinner table - as the evening went on. Eventually, dinner drew to a close, and the hour was late. Cyran tried to hide his fatigue, but travel had been far too draining, and he could no longer stifle his yawns.

“… The room is truly mine? Thank you, I don’t need much, I promise.” Even his room in the rookery was plain and bare, with little personal touch in it besides his bird feeder and his secret book collection. He glanced at Cirice, flashing her an apologetic smile. “But I’m afraid the journey here has taken its toll on me. I should probably rest so that I can be given a proper tour of the island.”

To get to know his family’s home… and his home, now, too.

“Of course!” Cirice jumps to her feet, “I’m sure you’re super tired. Let me come and help you get comfortable!”

“Give Master Cyran some space, Shizuki,” Lyleth chides gently, with a smile, “The festival isn’t until day after tomorrow, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company and relax.”

She turns to Cyran, “Even if it isn’t much, whatever you need please let us know. Our home is yours, our resources are yours. Whatever we can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Let me know if you would like to go fishing at any point while you’re here, I’d love to take you out on the water anytime.” Seto adds with a small smile of his own.

Cirice offers Cyran her hand and leads him back to his room before giving him a joyful look.

“I’m really glad you said yes! I was nervous, honestly. I don’t know if inviting people into your family is common outside of the Isles, but it felt right and we all agreed. I hope you weren’t too surprised.”

“Oh, Cirice is never a bother.” Cyran assured, ruffling her hair as he stood. “… But I could use some rest before the festival. I look forward to everything you have to show me.”

Cyran turned to Lyleth and Seto - members of his new family. He held out his hands, and in a burst of shadow, pulled the bag of gifts from his belongings back into his room.^[1] “Please. It isn’t much, but in Eclipse City, it’s also custom to give gifts to gracious hosts… and it’s the least I can do as you’ve so kindly welcomed me into your family. For Master Seto and Mistress Lyleth, I’ve brought wine from one of Mount Drakolt’s finest wineries for you to enjoy. And for Cirice…” He held out the broach, which glittered under the dim light. “For you. It’s made of volcanic glass. I thought it might go well with some of your cloaks and gowns.”

Truly, it was the least he could do with how welcome they’d made him feel. Even Seto’s invitation made Cyran feel rather shy. “I would love that, if you want my company.” He was not the best at fishing, but he would relish the company, and the relaxation. With parting words exchanged for the evening, Cyran followed Cirice to his room, his own footsteps light, and still reeling from the dinner.

“Of course I would…” Cyran’s throat felt thick. “I was afraid your parent’s weren’t going to be very fond of me, to be honest, but I am honored and flattered that you would want to accept me as such.” He did not take family lightly. “Perhaps one day… I’ll have the opportunity to introduce you to mine.” Not his parents, but perhaps one day Cirice would have the chance to meet Marlow. Her sister.

Oh, it was an impossible dream, but one he still held out hope for.

“I don’t have a family name to give, and not much of a home to offer, but I hope you know that you are as much a fixture in mine as I am of yours.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “I love you, Cirice. And I am truly happy to call you my goddaughter.”

He hummed, tapping at his chin in thought. “I wonder if I should take a local name while I’m here… would you be offended if I took the Tsukinaga name, at least while I am in the Isles?”

---

1. Summon: Possession

“Thank you for the gifts, Cyran, we appreciate them so much. You’ll have to share the wine with us tomorrow night.” Lyleth smiles.

“Nothing is better than fine company on the high seas.” Seto adds as they say goodnight.

Cirice looks at Cyran with eyes full of tears, “Why wouldn’t they love you? You’re amazing and kind and just an amazing dad! I am so happy to have you as part of my family and I yearn for the day I get to meet all of yours.” She pulls him into a tight hug, “I don’t need anything more than you, and Iryla. I love you so much Cyran, I’m so happy to have you as my godfather. It would be so amazing if you used our name while you’re here! I’ll see if chichi can have something official drawn up for you!”

She nuzzles into his arms, happy tears soaking into his shirt. “Family is so important to me and having you as a part of mine feels more right than anything in the world. Since the moment I met you in Frost Gale I’ve looked up to you, and you’ve never been anything but my hero. I’m proud to have you as a dad as well.”

Wiping her eyes she pulls away slowly and gives him another smile. "You'd better get some sleep. If you need anything I'm right down the hall, feel free to come get me, my room has a little moon on the door. I'll bring you breakfast in the morning whenever you wake up so feel free to sleep in as much as you want."

“I don’t know…” Cyran admitted with a shrug. “I suppose I would not fault your parents for being wary of a man whom they’ve never met. Some people are simply slow to trust.” He returned her hug with equal fervor. “Official documents…” He hadn’t considered anything on that scale - made things feel more… real. “If you’re happy with that, then I would be much appreciative.”

His heart got caught in his throat when Cirice spoke next. Not just a father. A hero. Gods, he wished he deserved that distinction.

He swallowed, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“… Then I shall see you in the morning, sweetheart.” He bid after a moment’s paused, so overwhelmed he felt like he was choking on the words. Everything he wanted to say.

… You and Iryla have given me something to live for again.

I don’t deserve to be welcomed into your home with open arms but I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can for you all.

Those felt entirely too heavy for the moment, so he swallowed them and settled on, “I hope you have good dreams. I look forward to the festival tomorrow.”

The next day could not come soon enough.