A.N: And this is it: Shadow gives up and condemns himself to live with his ghosts, once again. But not without leaving something to remember him by. I always thought it was such a heartbreakingly simple gesture, him leaving that ring behind, without any indication.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this. I hope you enjoyed it.

Dawn

"So, do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

He never thought he would stand in this room again. But of course, he'd written off so many things under the heading of "never" in the course of his life. Never lie, never be poor, never steal, never get caught, never leave your best friend to bleed to death on a river bank, never get married, never have a child, never stand by helplessly as your wife dies in the next room, never abandon your daughter, never return where you're not wanted…

The room was much the same as he remembered it, only with the addition of paint tubes and splattered palettes littering the floor. There was a blank canvas standing in a corner, as well as a thick, half-open portfolio next to it. He noted cursorily that the child must have developed a talent for painting. It was a fact, little more. He didn't remember any such proclivities from when she was four. Iris didn't have any particular taste for painting either. And as for him...Shadows didn't have interests or feelings. Shadows didn't have pasts. He wished he could deserve his name better sometimes.

Strago was talking, explaining the situation, most likely. Nothing he didn't already know, so he didn't try to listen.

"How do you like the crib? Isn't it lovely?"

The child was sitting up in her bed, rested, recovered and back to her prattling self. That was all he needed to know. There was nothing else he could achieve here.

(Let them all live in peace. The Goddesses know they've already been through enough ordeals.)

He knew he shouldn't have disturbed this peace in the first place, but he hadn't realized it then. It was very tempting to say that everything had happened in spite of him. But he knew better now than to make that mistake again.

"Well, I do owe you one for saving Relm…I'll help you find your Espers."

Strago's words intruded on his thoughts. This he hadn't expected.

(So you're willing to put up with my presence out of gratitude for two complete strangers? Either you find some kind of grim enjoyment in torturing me, or…you love her more than I thought. More than I would be capable of, anyway…)

He looked over his shoulder and caught Strago's cold eyes retreating from his back to Locke and Terra. His own eyes drifted back to the flower vase on the small table next to him.

(It's as it should be. I didn't expect or need him to warm up to me. How could he? He can't forgive me, I can't forgive myself. It's too late now to offer apologies, even if I thought I had the right or the will to do so. I didn't have enough compassion to be a friend. Not enough love to be a husband. I can't raise a child with blood on my hands. There's just one thing I can do, old man: make this easier for you.)

No one was paying attention to him at that point. It was the perfect opportunity. But something stopped him momentarily as he turned to the door.

"Here, this is for you. It's a charm of sorts…to keep you safe."

The small pouch at his belt. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He emptied its contents onto his palm. A small silver ring, set with a single opal, and some kind of prayer engraved on the inside of the band. His limited knowledge of runes had never allowed him to decipher it fully.

"Wear this close to your heart. That way I'll know my thoughts will always go with you…for what it's worth…"

He had kept it out of elementary respect more than anything. He never did deserve to be in anybody's thoughts. Observing the ring for a moment, he pensively set it down on the table next to the vase.

(She needs this more than I do.)

He gestured quietly to Interceptor, and the dog's slight whimper reminded him of the morning mist. But he must leave again. Disappear. As shadows do at dawn. It was the only art he ever mastered.