I gave my hand to take you home but I had no home to give you

[incensor]

The door to his cell closes for the last time, latches behind him and the long walk out to the front is unceremonious at best. He picks at the civilian clothing that had been delivered along the way, still adjusting to it, a clean white shirt, new jeans of the sort that were meant to look and feel like they were already worn in and a leather jacket that fit snug in the way someone knew he'd like it. Running a hand through his hair, he can't wait for first truly hot, truly private shower he'd taken in forever.

For the past twelve months, Lio Fotia has graced holding cells that once housed criminals and former burnish alike, as one of the highest profile political prisoners ever detained by the city of Promepolis. The interim government put in place to oversee the transition from Kray Foresight's near dictatorial rule had insisted it would help to ease tensions and smooth relations between the two sides that had been diametrically opposed for so long. Lio had agreed on the condition that his sentence serve as a pardon for all other burnish. Meis and Gueira had insisted on an exception but he ordered them down.

But the protests of real consequence had come from Galo. Each new hall he turns down brings another memory of the man that had stood by him in their great stand to save the burnish, humanity, the entire world. First he was insistent that he could put out the fires of dissent himself. Lio only charged him to keep working on that. Then there was the whining that he wasn't taking responsibility. To that Lio laughed and reminded him that jail was certainly one way to take responsibility for wrongdoings, of which he had committed many with the Mad Burnish, no matter how hard they had worked to avoid it.

Eventually Galo had relented to simply visiting him every day, hand pressed to the glass, phone held to his ear as he regaled Lio with stories of a world transformed, that would have sounded like fantasy if he hadn't been there to serve as the catalyst not so long ago. The shots they had fired together traveled far and echoed wide and even now they were still speeding along without him. He couldn't be more pleased.

On the rare days Galo couldn't visit, he would call and on the days he might not call he would have made sure to write something, a letter or just a short note that took Lio half the morning to decipher regardless and that was only if he could keep from spoiling himself by reading it the moment visitor's entrance door had closed behind Galo.

In the end the only farewell he receives is from the clerk that returns a few personal effects he'd arrived with. Old clothes, some paperwork, nothing of consequence that he still tucks away in his bag and hikes it back up on his shoulder.

And then. He's free.

The same light now shines on all the world, but the sun outside seems brighter. He has to lift his hand to shield his eyes against it, not even pausing for them to adjust to know who is waiting. For him. Lio waves. He tries to speak but the words stick against the smile that's holding back so many emotions.