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Strago had already buried his daughter.
He never imagined he would have to bury his granddaughter as well.
Relm had fallen ill, and nothing could be done. Even if magic still existed in the world, she was beyond any known healing.
She had begun to paint him as she had promised back then, but both knew she would never complete it. It remained on the easel in her room as he sat beside her in the dim light.
"I'll see you soon, dear..." he murmured, drawing her close in his arms and stroking her face as her raspy breathing stopped.