Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
The silence was strange. Normally, Ludo’s appearance would come on waves of amusement, toys and candies disappearing, dissipated into cloaks or fingers. But today, naught happened, and her brows furrowed, the confusion riddling across her features. Perhaps she’d erred somehow – it wouldn’t have been the first, nor the last –
Except then there was a glowing light, an intonation of something familiar, but brief, in her experience. Stilling from where she’d stood with her shell drawing of perplexing dreams and candied concoctions, only her eyes darted around, trying to make sense out of the gilded semblances suddenly everywhere.
And then there was Mort.
Her gaze went impossibly wide then, and she looked around, as if expecting Remi to be nearby and this had been a call from elsewhere and redirected…except then he was addressing her, and she was gaping like a fish. “Oh, no, I’m sorry -,” because she hadn’t meant to call him and there must have been a thousand other things one of the Big Gods had to be doing. The unworthiness dug and she could feel her cheeks reddening, mind trying to comb over all the possibilities and finding it a spiraling nuance at best. “Is this about the Vi target?” she whispered, wondering if this was going to be a divine punishment and reckoning for silliness and spirits.
But when he didn’t begrudge or scold, she took a deep breath, swiping her hair out of her face and trying to present herself as something put together rather than a haphazard, wayward, demonic thing. The concern layered there…and then the question, left her reeling slightly, a little pit opening her ribs and stomach. “In Leafchange. Did…something happen or go wrong or?”
Except then there was a glowing light, an intonation of something familiar, but brief, in her experience. Stilling from where she’d stood with her shell drawing of perplexing dreams and candied concoctions, only her eyes darted around, trying to make sense out of the gilded semblances suddenly everywhere.
And then there was Mort.
Her gaze went impossibly wide then, and she looked around, as if expecting Remi to be nearby and this had been a call from elsewhere and redirected…except then he was addressing her, and she was gaping like a fish. “Oh, no, I’m sorry -,” because she hadn’t meant to call him and there must have been a thousand other things one of the Big Gods had to be doing. The unworthiness dug and she could feel her cheeks reddening, mind trying to comb over all the possibilities and finding it a spiraling nuance at best. “Is this about the Vi target?” she whispered, wondering if this was going to be a divine punishment and reckoning for silliness and spirits.
But when he didn’t begrudge or scold, she took a deep breath, swiping her hair out of her face and trying to present herself as something put together rather than a haphazard, wayward, demonic thing. The concern layered there…and then the question, left her reeling slightly, a little pit opening her ribs and stomach. “In Leafchange. Did…something happen or go wrong or?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
