The mood in Wicked Wings was heavy that morning. It was the day the team had to see Alana off. The team sat around a table in the back, their expressions sullen.
Quercus was present, as he was for the last time before he returned to the next city, and said that he could perform the sealing on little Alana.
She sat in the middle of the shop, where everyone was present, clutching the doll that Roy had bought for her.
It had only been ten days, yet Alana seemed like an eight-year-old, and the emotions of having to see a child grow up so quickly made it difficult for them to let her go.
"It has to be done," Quercus said softly.
Alana looked at all of them, confused. Still, she had a smile on her face—a contagious warmth anyone could catch when they looked at her.
Pierrot only glanced at her from a distance, turning away when she noticed.
