MELITA
She permitted bits and pieces of concentration to ensure strokes of blue lit up the dark background along the lantern. Streaks, clashing down, down, down into the visceral landscape, like Nate and his tempestuous edges, when he felt the world was doing them an injustice. Only occasionally, when she was dipping her brush back into the vial, did she glance over and watch Isla’s careful, nimble movements, the bindings turning into a neat braid, plaiting along in a weaving structure.Glancing back at her work, she was almost surprised when the Ancient spoke again. She didn’t know Varus either, but given the structure of the last statement, she bit her lip back into study, and continued along the lines of curiosity. “I didn’t know him – what was he like?”
The hues persisted as she turned her lantern lightly, twisting it around so she could continue along the opposing sides. Given her own inquiry, the next one seemed to steady her. “Yeah. He was my uncle.” Through Sunjata and their marriage, of course, but absolutely the favored one of the two.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
