Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

They cried together for hours in that refuge that had become a tomb for happiness that would never return.

After Selphira and Julius arrived to help with a cleanup that couldn’t clean away what had been lost.

After the beasts were eliminated through force and fury that came too late to matter.

After all the danger had passed and only grief remained, persistent and crushing.

They simply sat on the cold stone floor of the refuge, father and daughter, crying for the person they’d both loved more than anything. More than duty or honor or their own lives. Crying until there should have been no tears left but somehow they kept coming anyway.

Much later, when the immediate storm had passed into hollow exhaustion…

In some moment between coherence and complete breakdown, delirious from pain and exhaustion…

Luna had murmured between tears that wouldn’t stop no matter how she tried to control them: “Mom always said I was her perfect little star.”

The words were barely audible, childish voice breaking on syllables that hurt to hear.

Sirius had inhaled sharply like he’d been stabbed, the memory cutting deeper than any blade. He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, an expression that was more grimace than joy. “She… she also called you her light in the darkness, right? Said you shined brighter than the sun even at noon.”

And it continued…

“She told me I was more beautiful than all fourteen moons together,” Luna continued, the broken words coming in a torrent now.

“She said we were her reason for waking up each morning,” Sirius added, his voice trembling with the effort of speaking through grief that still closed his throat. “That seeing our faces made every hardship worthwhile.”

It had begun without either of them planning it.

A sad and desperate game where father and daughter tried to fill the void in their hearts by remembering every compliment, every declaration of love, every embarrassing moment where Lykea had been too intense, too dramatic, too expressive in ways that had made them uncomfortable.

All the things that had made them roll their eyes when she was alive and could say them again tomorrow.

All the things they would now give anything, everything, to hear one more time in her voice that had been so distinctive in its earnest enthusiasm.

“She said she loved me beyond the stars,” Luna whispered.

“She also said she loved you until the universe itself stopped existing,” Sirius responded, voice breaking on the last word.

“She called me her invaluable treasure.”

“She also called you her everything, her whole world compressed into a single person.”

“She said I was perfect in every way even when I wasn’t.”

“She also said I was the most incredible person she’d ever known…”

The words continued flowing like a flood that couldn’t be stopped once started. Each memory pulled free from where it had been stored without proper appreciation. Each exaggerated compliment that had seemed excessive then but was desperately precious now. Each “I love you” spoken with that intensity had only been uncomfortable because it demanded matching vulnerability in return.

And somewhere in the flow of memories, in the desperate cataloging of the strongest love, Sirius had stood up on his weakened legs that barely supported his weight…

“We need to write them down.”

Luna had looked at him without understanding at first, confusion breaking through her grief momentarily.

“The words,” Sirius explained, his voice hoarse from hours of crying until his throat was raw. “We need to write all your mother’s favorite words. Before we forget them… Before time makes them fade.”

“We can’t forget her,” Luna had protested, feeling panic at the idea that memories could be lost. That her mother could die twice… once in body and again in memory until nothing remained.

“We won’t forget her,” Sirius promised. “At least not the big stuff. But the details… the exact way she said things… the specific words she chose… those will fade with time no matter how hard we try to hold them. And I can’t… we can’t allow that to happen. We won’t let time steal any small part from us.”

They had found paper in the refuge’s supplies, emergency stores that had been placed to be able to communicate in sieges but never imagined they’d be used for this purpose. Found ink that was slightly dried but still functional.

And together, father and daughter delirious from pain that made rational thought impossible, they had begun to write with their hands that shook so badly the letters came out uneven.

Every compliment they could remember her saying.

Every “I love you” in its multiple variations, she’d had so many ways of expressing the same simple truth.

Every effusive “hello” that had greeted them in the mornings.

Every dramatic “goodbye” that had made departures feel like tragedy even when she’d only be gone some hours.

Every promise repeated again and again as if repetition could make them more true.

Every expression of love that Lykea had given so freely, so intensely, so completely without shame or restraint or concern for what others might think.

They filled both sides of the paper, writing in margins when space ran out, adding notes between lines when they remembered something else that couldn’t be lost.

The words overlapped in places where feelings overcame the organization.

Until they couldn’t think of anything more, until exhaustion claimed what grief hadn’t taken, until the paper held as much as it could contain of a person who’d been too large.

And when they finally finished, when the last word had been added to the desperate catalog of love…

Sirius had folded it carefully despite his shaking hands, treating it like a sacred relic rather than a simple paper. He’d found an envelope and sealed the pages inside with wax that felt like making it permanent, like acknowledging this was all that would remain.

“This is for you,” he’d said, giving the letter to Luna with a ceremony that felt necessary even if he couldn’t explain why. “When you miss your mother… when you need to hear her voice… read these words. Imagine her saying them with that intensity that made you cringe. And imagine she’s still here, still loving you with everything she had.”

Luna had taken the pages with trembling hands, holding them like they might dissolve if she wasn’t careful.

And from that moment forward, for years that followed…

Every time she missed her mother and the pain became too much to carry alone…

She read them.

Again and again until the words were memorized but somehow reading them was different from remembering them.

Until the pages became stained with tears shed in the darkness when nobody was watching.

Until the edges grew worn from handling with desperate need that time never diminished.

Until her father had to rewrite it because the original was literally falling apart from use and grief and the weight of being the only physical connection to the love that had been lost.

Until she could hear her mother’s voice in her head saying each line with perfect clarity, the intonation, the enthusiasm, the embarrassing sincerity that had been uniquely Lykea’s.

Until for a moment, just a brief moment that never lasted as long as she needed…

She could pretend her mother was still there.

Still loving her so intensely that burned.

Still being dramatic and embarrassing and perfect in her unconditional love that had never wavered.