Silently, Marcie took it and dipped it in the water, and carefully began the job of running it over Tragos' form, over his face, his neck, his arms that were so strong, his body so right against hers. Qebhet's prayer moved her, and as she worked, she repeated the last words softly to herself.
"You are purified, Trey. You are protected." A few silent tears fell, dripping on his skin as she leaned across him, realising at last that this was her final time with him. She would never see this face in the flesh again after tonight. "You are loved," she added, for the teenager who had never been loved enough, the man who had loved her and his little brother so deeply. Not so large an age gap, then.