108 had not been well-known, the sleeper awoken only to die for her goddess, as much a tool for the Voice's plans as Sam had been when he had gone into the Greatwood. Jigano was not surprised that few remembered the blond Ascended, but it pained him to see no recognition for the medic, her pebble-blue eyes and incandescent curiosity, her calm competence and her bright laughter. They had danced beneath the Deepfrost moon, and she had helped him give Isuma the gryphlet's first meal, becoming the little one's godmother only to be torn away from them in the dark of Long Night, her soul shattered and re-woven into the body of a unicorn that now held barely a shadow of the woman she had been.
He could only nod at Melita's words, hopelessly innocent and innocently hopeless as they were. "I did, too. I saw it as a new beginning... but there have been so many endings instead." Endings in struggle, in pain, in fear. Deaths in the dark and light both. Symphonies of suffering written in blood spilled across snow and fugues of flame guttering out amid the fiery leaves of autumn. The proof of it was all around them, a thousand and more lanterns lighting up the night, each one a soul lost - or more than one, some lanterns containing the memories of many in a single glowing frame. There was so little new life - Aoife, Felix, but who else? - and yet so many souls lost each season.
And now Long Night was just around the corner.
He glanced to the honeybee girl, on her faded fierceness and the shadows in her eyes. She deserved so much more than the world had given her but still she held on, bowed but unbroken, forging a path towards her future, lit by the lanterns of her past. "It just means we have to be stronger," he said softly, something dark and hungry coiling beneath the still waters of his weariness. "Strong enough to protect the ones who are left."
He could only nod at Melita's words, hopelessly innocent and innocently hopeless as they were. "I did, too. I saw it as a new beginning... but there have been so many endings instead." Endings in struggle, in pain, in fear. Deaths in the dark and light both. Symphonies of suffering written in blood spilled across snow and fugues of flame guttering out amid the fiery leaves of autumn. The proof of it was all around them, a thousand and more lanterns lighting up the night, each one a soul lost - or more than one, some lanterns containing the memories of many in a single glowing frame. There was so little new life - Aoife, Felix, but who else? - and yet so many souls lost each season.
And now Long Night was just around the corner.
He glanced to the honeybee girl, on her faded fierceness and the shadows in her eyes. She deserved so much more than the world had given her but still she held on, bowed but unbroken, forging a path towards her future, lit by the lanterns of her past. "It just means we have to be stronger," he said softly, something dark and hungry coiling beneath the still waters of his weariness. "Strong enough to protect the ones who are left."
