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“Dextra!” Sinestrea cries, waving around a bouquet of delicate blue flowers, “look what I found!”
They’re traveling through the busy streets of Gorwen, an industrial town located on the outskirts of the Free Federation. Dextra decided that taking a break from the Shadow Hand Headquarters was necessary after spending nearly a year cooped up there, so here they are.
“Ooh, flowers!” Dextra murmurs, reaching out and taking the bouquet from Sinestrea. The flowers are vivid against the town’s brown and gray backdrop. “Where’d you find them?”
“Just on the ground over there!” The younger girl says, pointing to the mud-splattered cobblestones.
“Well, then they’re yours,” Dextra declares, handing the bouquet back. She turns, glancing at the clothing shop they’re about to enter. “Keep them safe.”
“I will!” Sinestrea says cheerfully, tucking them into the pocket of her dress. Before they step inside the shop, she grabs Dextra’s hand and squeezes tight.
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“What else do you think we should buy?” Dextra asks. They’ve finished buying clothes—just a few items for the winter ahead, which they plan to spend traveling the Free Federation. Looking at the carefree way her adopted daughter carries herself, Dextra’s glad they’ve managed to secure this little vacation for just the two of them.
It’s been too long, she thinks. Working for the Shadow Hand has taken its toll.
“I think… we should buy a little butterfly!” Sinestrea chirps, pointing.
Dextra raises her eyebrows. For some reason, there’s a vendor on the side of the street, selling colorful butterflies in little wire cages. They glimmer prettily, resting on the bars.
“Are you sure?” Dextra asks. Inwardly, she’s already agreed—it’s difficult to resist Sinestrea, especially when she’s wearing her pleading expression.
“Yes! Butterfly!” Sinestrea insists. She drags Dextra over. “I want the red one. We need it for the flowers.” She gestures to a shiny scarlet insect, the red spots as dark as blood. Dextra can instantly see why she’s so drawn to it.
“Alright. How much is it?” she says, pulling out her wallet. The vendor lists out a reasonable price, so she accepts.
When she hands her daughter the butterfly cage, Sinestrea laughs, her entire face transformed with joy.
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On the way home, Sinestrea starts to drift off. Dextra chuckles, already used to this habit, and lets her climb onto her back.
Sinestrea sighs and rests her head on Dextra’s shoulder. “Mmm… sleepy,” she murmurs, still holding the butterfly cage in one hand.
Dextra smiles. “Don’t worry, Sin. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Mmhm…” Sinestrea mumbles.
Carrying her on her back, Dextra continues on. She’ll arrive at their inn in a few minutes, where she’ll make sure her daughter is tucked into bed.
She glances at the sky. The sun is setting in Athanor, turning the heavens brilliant shades of orange and pink and violet.
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When they reach the inn, Sinestrea manages to rouse herself.
“Mmm… Dextra, Dextra…”
Dextra shifts her off of her back, onto the bed. “What is it?”
“Flowers…”
“Oh! Yes, the flowers. Let me get something to put them in,” Dextra says, hurrying to the cabinets to pull out a cup. She fills it with water and lets a very sleepy Sinestrea place her slightly crushed bouquet in it.
“There! Pretty, isn’t it?” Dextra asks.
“Mhm…” Sinestrea murmurs, her eyes slipping shut. “Pretty… sleepy…”
Dextra laughs. “Okay, okay. Time for bed.”
With that, she tucks her daughter under the blankets and prepares to go to sleep herself. She takes her time washing her face, brushing her teeth, and putting on her pajamas. But just as she’s making her way to her own bed across the room, Sinestrea stirs again.
“Dextra… c’mere…” she mumbles, stretching her arms out.
Dextra smiles softly. Sinestrea’s told her before that she sleeps better next to her, so Dextra doesn’t hesitate climbing into bed.
“Mhm…” Sinestrea hums, instinctively wrapping her arms around her mother.
Dextra closes her eyes. “Goodnight, Sin.”
Of course, there’s no reply—her daughter is sound asleep by now. And that, Dextra thinks, is the most wonderful thing.
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