#straylight run

He'd lived longer than any Crow had the right, longer even than his grandmother, who'd been days away from ninety when she took her last breath. Long enough that the only family that remained at his bedside were his grown children, the eldest of which now had two grandchildren of her own.

Of his three children, only the youngest, Lidia, had chosen a life in the Crows. Lucanis and Illario trained her within the halls of Villa Dellamorte, and when she came into her magic she had no shortage of tutors in matters of the arcane. But no tutor had taught her to hear the spirit her father carried.

No. That skill she had come by naturally. Which was why she knew this was the day her father would die.

Spite had gone silent.

Her sister and brother had returned to Treviso that week after she'd sent word to them. Antonio had been overseeing rehearsals for his newest ballet in Antiva City, but he'd dropped everything to be at their father's side.

Sofía came from farther away, a small village on the point of Rivain, across the bay from Treviso. She brought her whole family to witness the passing of their patriarch, which Lidia found both tiresome and moving. Her sister's life was foreign to her, the adventures of her youth tucked away in favor of things like domesticity, motherhood, love. Sofía could be so painfully like their mother.

But it was Lidia who looked most like her. While Antonio and Sofia had the Dellamorte nose and dark eyes, Lidia's nose was straight and steep, her eyes ringed with a pale violet shade. They all had their mother's freckles, however.

A warm hand, soft and wrinkled, took hers and pulled her from her thoughts.

"Lidia," her father said. Even now, his voice was deep and warm.

Around them in the First Talon's suite in the Western Wing of the villa, the gathered family perked up to pay heed to what might be Lucanis Dellamorte's final words.

He glared at them, his eyes as piercing as ever. "Don't be so eager to see me off!"

"Papá!" Sofía chided while Antonio chuckled. He looked much like their uncle and had much of his personality as well.

Lidia glared at both of her siblings, but squeezed her father's hand. "What is it, Papá?"

He smiled, soft and a little weak. "Will you sing for us?" He asked.

Stillness fell over the room.

Music had been the thing Lidia and her mother shared, both in appreciation and talent. Their mother had taught Lidia to play piano and when her daughter's skill outpaced her own, she'd brought in tutors from across Thedas. Any instrument Lidia had requested had been made available to her, and while she loved them all, her absolute favorite had been to sing along while her mother played.

Lidia had not sang for anyone since their mother died the previous year. She had not planned to sing ever again.

She blinked away the sting in her eyes and cleared her throat. "What would you like to hear?"

Her father blinked, slow and dreamy, like a cat in the perfect ray of sun. "Something soft," he murmured.

"Something hers," Spite rasped.

And Lidia knew just the thing.

Her voice trembled over the first words, the elvhen rusty on her tongue. Sofía gasped and immediately burst into tears while Antonio cursed under his breath. But Lidia's voice did not falter as she continued, she did not look at her siblings.

Instead she sang a Dalish lullaby taught to her by her mother and watched her father, thin and wizened, his beard and hair silvered almost white, as he settled into his final rest with a smile on his face.

Sofía collapsed across the bed, her head buried in their father's chest as she wept. Antonio stood beside her, rubbing her back and clearing his throat repeatedly.

Lidia merely sat, still holding her father's hand, and waited. She waited, unmoving save for the gentle brush of her thumb across the back of her father's cooling hand, until only she remained.

Then a light rose from her father's body. It was unlike any wisp she'd ever seen, purple and crackling, it grew and shrank like the beat of a heart. The light did not have eyes and yet she knew she was being watched. It did not have a voice, and yet she heard her father's demon just as clearly as she always had.

You are. SURE? Little Moon?

"Yes," she said. She wanted this, had always wanted this. "Are you?"

Hnnnng, Spite growled. Could rest. Could RETURN. Start again. New and little and slowwww.

"You could," she said. She wouldn't blame him if that's what he chose. Spite had never wanted a life beyond the Fade, had never wanted to be fused with a mortal.

But being twined with Spite, her oldest and truest friend, was everything Lidia had ever wanted.

I will. STAY, Spite said.

She bit back her relieved sigh and nodded. "What do I do?"

Be still. And OPEN!

That was her only warning before the thrumming ball of purple light rushed toward her. Lidia did not move, every ounce of her discipline kept her still and her mind clear as the demon enveloped her in its light before sinking through her skin and into her core.

Lidia gasped as her vision seared in a violent purple, taking in the room and the lines of her father's corpse where he lay in the bed.

"Lu. CAN. isssssss," Spite rasped with her voice and the force of the grief that swept over her belonged to them both.

It took a moment, but finally Spite released Lidia's body back to her, a strange, icy feeling clinging at her spine. Then she turned to look at the purple spirit that now stood beside her.

She had never seen Spite before, no one but her father ever had, except perhaps Manfred. She'd known that he looked like Lucanis, had been told as much by her father. But looking at him now, while her father's body lay beside them in the bed, was very unsettling.

He looked so... Young. Younger than she could ever remember seeing her father. His beard was dark, a deeper shade of purple than his skin or his leathers, and his eyes burned with a pale violet light.

Spite caught her staring. Little Moon. Does it. Upset you? To see HIM in me?

Lidia shook her head. "No. I just..." She shrugged. "I'll get used to it."

The demon growled but said nothing more. For a long moment, they simply existed in the silence, Lidia counting her heartbeats and marveling at the fact that her father, the most incredible man she had ever known, was gone. He was actually gone.

Tears would come, she knew. It'd been the same for her Tío and Auntie Bel. It'd been even worse for her mother — Lidia was fairly certain she still had tears left for her mother. Perhaps now that her father had joined her, Lidia could mourn them both properly.

As she looked at him, Lidia couldn't keep her eyes from trailing back to his smile. At the peaceful, easy look he'd found while she sang.

"Spite?"

Yessssss.

"What was he thinking? At the end?"

Hnnnnnng, the demon said. Lucanis thought of you. Little Bird and YoYo.

"Oh," she whispered.

He thought of HER. Thought you sound. Just like her.

The demon turned to pin her with his fiery gaze, every bit as intense as her father's had been.

Lucanis listened. to YOU. And heard. Herrrrrrr. Heard our ROOK.

And that was all it took to break open the seal on all of Lidia's grief. In the end, Lucanis Dellamorte had thought of his children. Had heard his wife's voice one final time, through the instrument of his daughter's vocal chords.

Lidia wept because, in his very last moments Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium, Godkiller Crow, Hero of the Veilguard and First Talon of the Antivan Crows—her father—had been made of love.

Gently tagging folks to either play or who might want to see this.