Castin woke with a jolt, a dream scattering like mist. For a brief moment, the familiar ache twisted inside him, a dull echo of grief and loss he carried every day, but it faded quickly at the sound of excited footsteps.
His door swung open abruptly, spilling a rush of warmth and youthful energy into his quiet room. Emma burst through, eyes sparkling, fur gleaming softly in the early lamplight.
"Castin, come on! You're gonna miss everything!" she chirped, practically bouncing in place.
He rubbed sleep from his eyes, smiling wearily at her enthusiasm. "Emma, we've got plenty of time. Let an old man wake up in peace, will you?"
She stuck out her tongue playfully. "You're not that old. Besides, it's the Lantern Festival! You know what that means, don't you?"
He chuckled gently, leaning up on one elbow. "I do. Now go on, let me at least pretend I'm getting ready."
Emma giggled, retreating from the doorway with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, but hurry up!"
As the door clicked shut behind her, Castin sat slowly upright, feeling the soft creak of the old bed frame beneath him. He ran a hand through his graying hair, taking a deep breath, letting the reality of the morning settle in around him.
A year, he thought, a mixture of astonishment and sorrow tightening his chest. A year since Naomi. A year since the compound, the smoke, the fire. The day they'd lost, and won, more than he ever could have imagined.
Castin glanced around the modest room, feeling a quiet pride at how familiar it had become. Elizabeth's gentle insistence had eventually worn down his polite refusals, and now, months later, he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She'd made it clear from the start, her heart would always belong to Edgar, and Castin respected that fiercely. But somehow, over shared meals and quiet evenings, over laughter and stories, they'd all become something more.
Family.
It hadn't been easy, though. Eli, awake at last and struggling with his own grief, had resisted Castin's presence at first. His mistrust had been palpable, understandable, the pain of losing Edgar still fresh. Castin had been patient, giving the boy space, waiting for him to come around in his own time. Eventually, Eli's careful wariness softened into grudging acceptance, then genuine affection.
Castin smiled to himself. He'd come to cherish the boy's quiet strength, his bright mind. Eli reminded him so much of Edgar, yet with an energy and curiosity uniquely his own.
A year had brought change beyond their household, too. Ever since Nikodemus's defeat, Rat City had tightened its borders. The Rat King had enforced strict rules about surface trade, desperate to ensure that nothing resembling another calamity could threaten their fragile peace again. It meant harder days sometimes, fewer comforts from above, but life went on, resilient and determined.
Castin rose, stretching, feeling joints pop softly as he moved across the room. He washed up quickly, pulled on the crisp suit that Elizabeth had helped pick out just days before. Fastening the last button, he glanced at his reflection in the small, worn mirror.
A wry smile tugged at his lips, and he gave a soft, appreciative whistle. "Not too bad, old man," he murmured, adjusting the collar gently.
He stepped from his room into the comforting warmth of the kitchen, greeted by the delightful chaos of family life. Elizabeth, Emma, and Eli bustled around a large, beautifully decorated cake, its icing vibrant, sweet aromas filling the air.
"Wow," Castin breathed, deeply impressed, "you all really outdid yourselves."
Emma glanced up brightly, beaming. "It was Dad's recipe—" she began, as she finally looked up fully and saw Castin in his suit. Her eyes widened dramatically, and she nearly toppled the cake in surprise. "Whoa! Castin! You look Amazing!"
Elizabeth steadied the cake smoothly, smiling softly. "Careful now, Emma," she said gently, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Then she turned toward Castin, wiping her paws neatly on a towel. "You look wonderful, Castin. Just missing one thing."
She moved gracefully to a nearby shelf, picking up a delicate flower Eli had placed there earlier, and tucked it neatly into Castin's lapel. "There," she said gently, stepping back to admire him with motherly pride. "Perfect. And you can thank Eli, he chose it specially."
Castin turned his gaze to Eli, warmth blooming in his chest. "Thank you very much, young man."
Eli grinned shyly, tail twitching with embarrassment. "No big deal," he mumbled softly, though his eyes sparkled. Then, a curious note filled his voice, and he tilted his head slightly. "Are you nervous? About today, I mean?"
Castin laughed softly, a genuine warmth and fondness filling his chest. "Yeah, you could say that. Never done anything like this before."
Elizabeth stepped forward again, gently taking his hand in hers, offering comforting reassurance. "Oh, Castin, you'll do wonderfully. I just know it."
He squeezed her paw softly, drawing strength from her faith. Taking a deep breath, he glanced again at the smiling faces around him. It felt right, more right than he'd expected it ever could after everything they'd endured.
Maybe, just maybe, they'd all found a way home.
The Lantern Festival filled the air with a gentle glow, a few lights beginning to drift upward in the distance, slowly turning Rat City into a canvas of hope. Castin walked through the winding streets, the soft chatter and laughter from Elizabeth, Emma, and Eli bringing warmth to his chest.
Elizabeth and Emma wore matching dresses, beautiful and simple, stitched lovingly by Talia herself during her recovery period. Elizabeth had spent long afternoons at Talia and Matias' new shop, guiding them through those difficult early days of running a business. Elizabeth and Talia's bond had grown naturally, culminating in Talia's heartfelt request for Elizabeth and Emma to be her maids of honor. It was a request they'd proudly accepted.
Eli dashed ahead through the crowded street, weaving between festival-goers before running back breathlessly, holding up a small bag triumphantly.
"Hey Em, look! I got your favorite!" he beamed, proudly displaying a bag filled with sliced figs.
Emma squealed happily, reaching out for the treat, only to pause as Elizabeth playfully chastised them both, paws placed firmly on her hips. "Don't you dare ruin your appetite. We have cake waiting!"
Emma laughed sheepishly, grabbing Eli's paw to continue forward, promising Elizabeth they'd wait.
As they rounded the final corner, Castin felt his world slow softly to a stop. Before them stretched a stunning arrangement for the wedding, rows of delicate chairs lined neatly along a vibrant aisle, lanterns glowing gently, their golden warmth illuminating the path. At the far end, an elegant gazebo stood adorned with soft silken ribbons and intricate carvings, where the Rat King himself was personally inspecting every last detail.
The king's sharp eyes spotted Castin immediately, his face lighting with genuine delight as he waved Castin over.
Castin turned to Elizabeth, Emma, and Eli, offering them a gentle smile. "Go on, catch up with everyone. I've got some business with His Majesty." Placing an emphasis on His Majesty as if it were an inside joke.
Elizabeth nodded warmly. "We'll see you soon, Castin."
Castin approached the Rat King, who stood with an air of relaxed anticipation. "Hey Red," Castin greeted him warmly. "Looking sharp."
The King chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that had become more frequent since the day Nikodemus' shadow had finally faded. "Not too bad yourself, Castin."
The two embraced briefly, genuine friendship in the gesture. The king drew back, taking a deep, contented breath as his eyes wandered fondly over the decorated gazebo.
"Hard to believe the day's finally here," he mused, voice soft. "I've always loved weddings."
Castin studied the king's features, noting the warmth that seemed to shine more freely now, as if the heavy burden he'd carried had finally eased. Old Red had always been deep-thinking and strategic, but over the past year, he'd allowed himself something more, joy, and the ability to truly live without constantly guarding against catastrophe every waking moment.
Castin's smile was gentle, tinged softly by an unspoken grief. He knew how much this day meant, but the absence of those they'd lost weighed quietly behind each joyful moment.
The thought was interrupted gently by one of the king's assistants, a young rat dressed formally. "Excuse me, Your Majesty, Mr. Castin, the ceremony's about to start. If everyone could take their places?"
The king nodded graciously. "Thank you. We'll be ready."
The crowd soon filled the chairs, friends, family, curious onlookers, humans and rats alike, all eager to witness this rare moment of celebration and unity. Castin smiled warmly as Lorne, Vance, and Kiernan took their positions beside the gazebo, serving as Matias' groomsmen. Though they stood tall and proud, Castin felt a pang deep in his chest at Garret's absence. Garret had never fully recovered from his injuries; the journey home had simply been too much, and his loss was still deeply felt.
Castin shook off the sorrow gently as Matias began his walk down the aisle, adorned proudly in his guard uniform. The crowd hushed reverently, the guards standing in attendance offering respectful salutes to their former captain. Matias' stride was confident, eyes soft and heart full. Upon reaching the altar, he and Castin embraced briefly.
"Hey, ya old Rat," Castin whispered warmly, squeezing Matias' shoulder. "You look great."
Matias grinned, clearly emotional. "Thanks, Castin. I'm glad you're here."
Music swelled softly, the gentle notes rising as all eyes turned to the far end of the aisle, and Talia stepped forward. Her dress was breathtaking, its delicate train trailing gracefully, the tiara atop her head sparkling gently against her ears. The audience murmured in awe, captivated by her radiant beauty and graceful confidence. She'd fully recovered in recent months, her strength and spirit evident in every elegant step she took.
Castin quickly wiped away a tear, smiling ruefully to himself, overcome by the sheer joy of the moment.
As Talia reached Matias' side, they turned to Castin, who cleared his throat gently, fighting down the lump of emotion. "Alright. Uh… let's try this without me screwing it up," he joked gently, eliciting warm laughter from the gathered crowd and a warm smile from Elizabeth.
Taking a deep breath, Castin began, his voice steadying, carrying warmth and reverence.
"We're here today to witness something we never thought we'd see much of: peace. And love. Not the easy kind of love, not the fairy-tale stuff, but the kind you build through scars and sacrifice. The kind that outlasts broken bones, lost time, and every bad decision we didn't have the chance to regret."
Castin's voice softened further, eyes warm as they moved between Matias and Talia. "That's the love Matias and Talia have."
Matias smiled softly, gaze unwavering on Talia's face.
"I've known Matias a while now. He's got a spine of steel and a heart as caring as any saint's. He's always been reliable, always pushed me to be better. And Talia?" Castin chuckled lightly, eyes twinkling. "She's sharp, stubborn, and somehow still graceful after walking through miles of Rat City's most disgusting places, don't shake your head Talia, you knew I had to mention it."
A gentle laugh rippled through the audience as Castin grew earnest again. "They've walked through hell together. Fought side by side. Saved each other more times than we'll ever hear about. And today, they're choosing to build something softer. Something lasting. Something no one can touch."
Castin addressed the couple, his voice warm but serious. "Talia, Matias. Do you come here today freely, to choose each other, not just for now, but for whatever comes next?"
Nearly in unison, Matias and Talia answered: "We do."
Castin smiled letting out a quick dry laugh and gently nodded. "Okay then, say your vows."
Matias began, voice steady yet brimming with emotion. "I used to think survival was the best I could hope for. But then I met you. You reminded me surviving wasn't enough, not without someone to fight for. I promise to protect you, to laugh with you, to carry you when you're tired, and to follow you anywhere. Even into the unknown. Especially into the unknown."
Talia's voice shook gently, eyes glistening. "I used to think needing someone made me weak. But you? You never made me feel small. You gave me space to be angry, to be brave, to be me. I promise to walk beside you now that I can walk again," She smiled wryly as a small bit of laughter came from the audience before she continued. "Not behind you and not ahead. And when the road gets hard, I'll remind you what we're fighting for. I choose you, Matias. Every day. Every time."
Castin exhaled, his voice thick with emotion. "Well… alright then," he murmured, clearing his throat again. "By the authority of… King Redmantle, and by the strength of your promises, the truth in your eyes, and the fact that we all need a little joy after everything… I now pronounce you husband and wife."
He grinned through glistening eyes. "Now, please kiss, because if I keep talking I'm gonna cry in front of everyone, and that's not happening."
Matias and Talia leaned into each other, sharing a tender, lingering kiss, the gathered crowd bursting into joyful applause as lanterns rose gracefully into the air, carrying with them the hopes, dreams, and newfound joy of all of Rat City.
Castin stepped back slowly, feeling a swell of emotion that tightened in his chest, yet this time it didn't hurt, it warmed him. He looked out across the crowd, at Elizabeth's gentle smile, Emma's bright laughter, Eli's wide-eyed wonder, and the proud, peaceful look on King Redmantle's face.
How far they'd all come.
He remembered the moment he'd first entered Rat City, driven by grief, shackled by the memory of everything he'd lost. At the time, he couldn't have imagined himself standing here, celebrating something as simple and profound as love. He thought of his wife Lillian and daughter Elena, thought of Naomi, Garret and Edgar, their absence felt but no longer a weight pulling him beneath the surface. Instead, their memory was a steady reminder of why he should keep moving forward.
Because down here, in the depths of a place he never should have found, Castin had finally learned another truth:
Grief may start as an anchor, pulling you under. But over time, it becomes something else, a reminder that you once loved deeply, fiercely. And when the tide shifts, that same grief can become a compass… pointing you toward what's still worth loving, still worth living for.