A M A L I A
Fire.
It is a standard thing, a right of passage, the fires which roar and wreck through LongHeat, leaving scorched earth in their wake. Every year they bloom anew, flowers of red in the dusty grass, waves of heat wafting through the once-confined ground, the crackling of kindling beneath the sound of flint-hoppers dancing and chirping in the night.
Amalia watches from a distance, wary but accepting of this natural event. It is the Outlanders who crowd around, one after another in panic and alarm. And they are not wrong to do so: the fire is massive, and closer to farmland than she would have liked, but nothing yet oppressive, nothing to cause havoc. Besides, there are systems in place to protect the farms, old and careful planning by naturals who have lived through years of disasters and overcome. The girl has never been part of the fire brigade, lacking any ability to help contain the heat. But she has some medical skills, some little bit of knowledge forced down by an obstinate mother; and so she stands at the side of the scene, watching and waiting to see to burns.
It is Deimos which springs her into action, makes her heart rise in her throat as he walks into the flame. Deimos, who is brave and noble without asking for repayment; Deimos, who would burn himself to save the world but never feel owed. Amalia watches his great form kneel, taking debris into his hands, dangerous and daring (and incredibly dashing), the one thing she cannot bear to see go up in the blaze. First walking, then jogging, she hurries toward him, terrified that he will be wounded, images of burnt flesh and singed hair filling her mind. "Deimos-!" she begins to call-
And then there is a girl against him, crashing into his massive chest, on top of him, touching him, and she feels a screech of jealousy flare in her black heart.
She does not see the fire fading. She does not see the crowd. She sees him - them - and even as she kneels beside them she can sense their closeness, is aware of the fact that this person is holding him, touching him, and worst, perhaps, hurting him-!
Amalia is kind. Amalia is good. Amalia is