“Themis!” Julia roared through their house. “You’re going to be late! Hurry up!”

Elainus slid up behind Julia, and put his hands on her shoulders. Slowly massaging, he knew exactly the right spot to help bleed some of her tension away.

Thirty years of marriage tended to do that to a couple.

“I swear you’ve said that more than anything else in this house.” He murmured in his wife’s ear. “Gotten a skill for it yet?”

Julia flicked his leg with her hand.

“Only been offered it a few times.” She half-purred under his grasp. “You’d think he’d be on time for his own wedding at least.”

Elainus snorted.

“And miss one last chance to rile you up?”

“Last chance? Ha! I’d be so lucky. Only way they’d leave the house is if they moved to another city.”

Elainus kissed her neck in agreement.

“I put a fresh mango in the bowl. Should last us until the parties have died down.”

Julia turned round, beaming at her husband.

“Thank you.” She said, letting the moment linger.

“Now! You’ve gotten crumbs on your toga! Brush them off! Come on, we haven’t got all day!”

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Julia cried as they welcomed Helen to the family, and before they knew it, they were all sitting down around the table for the first meal together.

“Who’s the last spot for?” Helen asked, noting five places had been laid out at the table.

“My sister!” Themis proudly told his blushing bride.

“Oh? You’ve mentioned her a few times, but haven’t told me lots. What’s the big secret? Will I finally get to meet her?” Helen leaned forward, curiosity bright in her eyes.

Everyone looked to Themis, the man of the hour.

“You know she’s Elaine. She’s also Sentinel Dawn. She’s been on a mission for a few years now.” Themis explained, only for Julia to rap his knuckles with her infamous wooden spoon.

“Ow!” Themis knew the routine when Julia smacked him with the spoon. He was to complain. Elainus, his adoptive father, had made that quite clear over the years, and he happily played his part in the charade. Julia menaced him with her spoon.

“That does not even begin to explain things!” She scolded him, when Helen laughed.

“That’s a good joke, but really. Tell me about your sister.”

The family traded looks. Elainus coughed awkwardly to himself.

“No, seriously. Our little girl really is better known as Sentinel Dawn.”

“EEeeeeeeeeee! My heroine!” Helen squealed, then turned on Themis. “You never told me! Why didn’t you tell me? What’s she like? What’s her favorite color? How did she…”

Themis groaned.“This is why I hadn’t mentioned her before!” He complained with a smile. “I wanted you to be interested in me, not my famous sister.”

Helen laughed. “Well, fair enough. Tonight though, I want to hear all about it.”

Themis sensed the opportunity, and gave her a roguish grin.“I had other plans for tonight.”

Elainus held Julia as she cried in front of the Indomitable Wall. Their baby’s name was being written among the names of the fallen, another casualty.

“She was too young.” Julia cried. “It isn’t fair.”

Elainus didn’t trust himself to say anything, just letting the tears flow as he held his wife.

“I am most sorry for your tragedy.” A pale, thin man told Elainus. Elaine’s father wasn’t quite sure who the man was, but he had a deeper shade of red on his [Identify] than anyone else he’d ever known - his daughter included.

“There is no greater pain than for a parent to bury their child. Take my condolences, for what little they are worth. Elaine was the brightest of us. She exemplified what it meant to be a Ranger, to be a Sentinel, and inspired us all. No Sentinel has ever shone brighter, cared more, nor saved as many lives, and her mark will echo through history. Her name on the wall is a solemn promise. She will not be forgotten.”

This simply made Julia cry harder, burying her face in Elainus’s tunic. The man seemed to know when he wasn’t wanted, and moved over to comfort Themis.

It was a dark day, overshadowing the joy of their third grandchild being born.

There was still a fresh mango in the bowl.

Julia and Elainus grew old and grey together, watching their family multiply and prosper. Maximus had given their descendants free admission to his ever-growing school, for as long as he remained [Schoolmaster], and the unrivaled educational opportunities let all of Themis and Helen’s kids go far in life.

“Are you sure about this?” Themis asked Julia. She patted the elderly [Senator] on the arm.

“Of course we are.” She croaked. “Now, give your mother a hand, one last time.”

Helen hovered nervously as Themis offered his arm, Julia slipping her hand and leaning on him to slowly limp across the house. She made it to her destination, and slowly, trembling with arthritis and age, replaced the mango in the bowl with a fresh one.

“She’ll make it back.” Julia whispered. “I just… don’t think I’ll be here to see it.”

She turned around, and leaning on Themis, was slowly escorted back to her room, filled with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. There was even a single great-great grandchild, but she was just a young baby. She wouldn’t remember the day, not unless she got a skill later in life.

Elainus was in their bed, and he turned his head as he heard his wife approach.

“Is it done?” He choked out.

Julia gave a tired nod, and with Helen’s help, laid down in bed with her husband of decades.

“Themis. I’m proud of you. I love you.” Elainus said. “You have always been my son, and there has been no greater joy in my life than being your father.”

Themis nodded, failing to hold back his tears.

“I love you, Themis, and your beautiful wife. You two have brought me such happiness.” Julia slipped her hands into Elainus’s, as the rest of the farewells were exchanged.

Finally, the couple looked at each other.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two looked to the only member in the room that wasn’t family.

They didn’t need to say a word. White Dove knew they were ready, and took them. Their incorporeal souls left their bodies, holding hands, back to the young couple they once were.

“What happened to Elaine?” Julia asked. They were free now, outside of mortal bonds. The great reaper might know.

The bird gave an impossible snort, and tilted her head.

“Oh. OH!” Julia exclaimed.

“Oh.” Elainus agreed.

They smiled together as White Dove guided them onwards.

The mango got replaced, a fun little tradition. A reminder of a long-lost sister. A gesture to keep Themis’s parents happy in the afterlife.

When White Dove took Themis and Helen at the end of a long life, the tradition ended. Nobody living in the household remembered the woman who it was for.

One day, a mango was placed in the bowl. It was left there, waiting for a mouth that would never come, a brrrpt that would never be sung. It grew old, wrinkly, and moldy.

It was cleaned up without a second thought, and never replaced.