MELITA
She meandered now, a lighter skip to her step; perhaps the sheen of her father’s claws not entirely resting on her any longer, a press of suns and Dragon’s Throat stockades, sands, and surf embarking far deeper than that man ever could. The youth sighed, listening to Sunjata’s response, laughing a little, a lighter air in her throat, forgoing the knotted requiems in her heart. “And yet, here I am. Living proof you didn’t.” The youth ensued a wink, and then glanced back to the sky, following ribbons of clouds while he quieted; pondering if she was a disappointment to this man too, some stark reminder that he’d strived for something that couldn’t be. Maybe it didn’t really matter, maybe none of this did, because Gaal was not here, a great blockade on a road, wouldn’t have bothered to follow her mother to sacrificial goals, and wouldn’t have strived to float down into Rift portals with his daughters. Perhaps he was back in the shadows of Helovia, crushed under its weight, all brawn and vigor and tenacity no longer a notion when earth turned to ash and dust. The statement thereafter though was a surprise. Most of them had landed by the Spire, tucked beneath the giant monolith, surprised, bewildered, or simply glad to be out of the previous kingdom. Hers had been the latter, all hope of rampaging her way out of the Rift’s grasp a beautiful, tender release – straight into Caido, where she’d found some footholds, some capabilities, more than just the youth who survived. “Bizarre,” she laughed again, hair flying in the wind, locks like her father’s, but she’d like to believe, to think, hers were bolder, brighter, a vivid outcry against anything coming to haunt her. “At least, if this place doesn’t work out, then maybe you have something to return to.” The girl shrugged, glancing back at him again, a tiny smile warring its way along her lips.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
