"And please, Aquails, bless the spirits that roam this land that they may forever be soothed with the cool feel of water against their flesh," Mirale muttered the prayer, kneeling in a flowerbed near a torn down building. He hated how depressing and solemn the Ruins of Piscmo were. So many lives lost for no reason other than jealousy and greed.

The land served as a reminder of what war brought... nothing but death and destruction. He was one of the many religious folk who showed up to pray to whatever watery gods they could think of in hopes that the innocent lives would have some sort of peace in the after life.

Slowly he stood up, brushing the rich soil off his pants and taking in a deep breath. Carefully he pulled out a few coins from his bag, along with a teddy bear he'd purchased on his way here. He gingerly set them up on the remains of a cradle he'd found, "There you go little one, rest well in whatever waves await you beyond here."

Mixrim citizens like him always felt an obligation of sorts to come to these ruins and apologize to the dead for their people's atrocities. He'd been making yearly trips since he was twenty.

Just as he turned to walk away he saw you swiping an offered ruby from the rubble of a home, his eyes narrowed and he flicked his wrist, holding you still as he snapped, "And where do you think you're going with that?"