"You were shining the first day we met," Jedao says softly. "You were shining with everything inside you. And I couldn't read it, then, but I wanted to." He strokes his thumbs along the bones of Hakkai's hands, doesn't let go.

"My sword is made of nothing but light," Jedao murmurs. "You can't even cut rope with it. It only exists to kill living creatures. It shines white and red and with the day and the hour of your death." An old Kel superstition, but it's the myth that matters, sometimes. "It kills, and it shines, and it belongs in my hand." Absolute certainty.

"Stars are death. They are screaming poison fire for billions of years. They might be one of the only things that could kill me. And they sustain everything that lives on this side of gatespace. And they shine and shine and shine." Jedao wets his lips for moment, before continuing.

"He didn't know you. He was dazzled and singed by...the idea of being really loved by anyone at all. I know you. I know how ferocious and ruthless and ragged and sharp you are. You are the murderer that you are. And that killer that I've known, all along, is all my shining stars. I'm a moth, Hakkai-shei. I belong with the stars."

"And you have every right to claim me. You're the only one who does."