The Sentinels how terrible it is, to love something that death can touch

deirdre listened as rowan explained, tilting her head. once it was explained, deirdre looked beside her, seeing the full figure of her father present beside her. it was a comfort to see him there, but he evaporated to nothing too soon after, leaving the summer sun to shine upon her back in a manner that was all at once too hot for her liking. the heat came from her lack of understanding, but soon the knowing came to her.

she looked back to rowan, her eyes wide and bright. legitimacy was of no consequence to deirdre, and surely not to any who were not of child bearing age. deirdre did not fear her own place for the knowledge she had been given this day, as she had known it all along and there was no doubting it now that she was coming into her power. a radiant smile overcame her as she moved to embrace rowan. sisters, she breathed, hopeful--more mayfair witches[i]. no doubt that the year of his death had brought to her father the seed of the witch that had brought about she and emaleth. they will know him, rowan. i will tell them of him--and perhaps they may see him, as i do, still. he is still here--he watches, rowan. he is happy, for he loved children! and even though he did not live and breathe, she knew he would love these new mayfairs he had produced, regardless of their legitimacy. oh, rowan, i love them already! when will they arrive?[/i][/i]