i sailed seas of emotions to wander a forest of scars
i am a dance of light and darkness
"You did." Amalia thinks of Remi, the only one she knows who was hurt but the person who surely deserves it the least. Does he know of his errant lover's return? Does he know who Loren is? It isn't Amalia's place to pry, not her job to ask these questions, but she cares about her friend. "But not me." A slight shrug; it had been a relief, really, when the firebird summoner stopped appearing in the library, endlessly threatening to emblazon her books. Amalia had not missed the man she never knew.
The other parts, his family and their sins- that is far more relevant. The Shield bites her lip again, remembering that brief and blistering tyrrany, remembering Zariah cornering her outside the Temple, remembering long nights of planning underneath the ground, the fear of imprisonment for daring to hold on to the guild she helped to build. "Will you be like them?" she wonders, tilting her head again, that quirk all avians seem to adopt, even in human form. "Are you like Zariah? Because I don't intend to let what happened with her ever happen again."
And though she is slight, though she is quiet, there is a dangerous determination in the words. If Loren is watching he might see a flash of fangs beneath the coral lips, or the way her eyes seem to slit for a moment before rounding back out. She did not do enough, the first time. She will not make that mistake again.
Her fears are quickly soothed, however as he begins to pour out his ideas. That he thinks anyone would shelter in the manor makes her snort a laugh, shaking her head swiftly. "I'd rather go outside again than spend a week in that monstrosity." Which was saying something severe, considering the last time she went out at Long Night, she died. But the promise of summons is something useful, and despite her discomfort Amalia hums thoughtfully, the wheels of her mind beginning to spin. "What can you summon? And how many? Only the Spark Bird has ever been able to really banish the monsters, as it did last year." Can he summon a spark bird, and hold it for a week? She doubts it, somehow.
It seems that Loren wants to atone by doing everything, something Amalia can empathize with, and something she knows the frustration of. "We know a good deal about the blight," the Shield says enigmatically, not yet trusting a Launcelyn enough to tell him anymore. "And we're working on knowing more. There's nothing in the books about it, but... I have hope. The gods have hope. I trust in Vi." It is all she seems able to do, now. Trust.
He's a mess, and not just physically. Amalia cannot help but feel for the man, remembering her own struggles and journeys, how close she has come to falling apart. When did she get to be strong? "What do you know about the spark bird and the luxere? I'll be helping to rebuild the perch this year, but we can always use mages. And the more who entice the Luxere, the better. I have a staff made of their antlers that should protect from some of the darkness, and Jyoti might be able to help, but it won't be even close to enough." So much, so much, an endless deluge. "We also have to warn the Fae... We don't yet know if the monsters will go into the woods."
Amalia reaches up to rub between her eyes, sighing as the weight of the coming season settles on her shoulders. Setting down her books, the gilded girl sighs, only looking back at Loren and he asks her name. Now, at last, she offers her hand, a mimicry of his earlier gesture, her slender fingers ready to meet his. "Amalia Chandrakant."
The other parts, his family and their sins- that is far more relevant. The Shield bites her lip again, remembering that brief and blistering tyrrany, remembering Zariah cornering her outside the Temple, remembering long nights of planning underneath the ground, the fear of imprisonment for daring to hold on to the guild she helped to build. "Will you be like them?" she wonders, tilting her head again, that quirk all avians seem to adopt, even in human form. "Are you like Zariah? Because I don't intend to let what happened with her ever happen again."
And though she is slight, though she is quiet, there is a dangerous determination in the words. If Loren is watching he might see a flash of fangs beneath the coral lips, or the way her eyes seem to slit for a moment before rounding back out. She did not do enough, the first time. She will not make that mistake again.
Her fears are quickly soothed, however as he begins to pour out his ideas. That he thinks anyone would shelter in the manor makes her snort a laugh, shaking her head swiftly. "I'd rather go outside again than spend a week in that monstrosity." Which was saying something severe, considering the last time she went out at Long Night, she died. But the promise of summons is something useful, and despite her discomfort Amalia hums thoughtfully, the wheels of her mind beginning to spin. "What can you summon? And how many? Only the Spark Bird has ever been able to really banish the monsters, as it did last year." Can he summon a spark bird, and hold it for a week? She doubts it, somehow.
It seems that Loren wants to atone by doing everything, something Amalia can empathize with, and something she knows the frustration of. "We know a good deal about the blight," the Shield says enigmatically, not yet trusting a Launcelyn enough to tell him anymore. "And we're working on knowing more. There's nothing in the books about it, but... I have hope. The gods have hope. I trust in Vi." It is all she seems able to do, now. Trust.
He's a mess, and not just physically. Amalia cannot help but feel for the man, remembering her own struggles and journeys, how close she has come to falling apart. When did she get to be strong? "What do you know about the spark bird and the luxere? I'll be helping to rebuild the perch this year, but we can always use mages. And the more who entice the Luxere, the better. I have a staff made of their antlers that should protect from some of the darkness, and Jyoti might be able to help, but it won't be even close to enough." So much, so much, an endless deluge. "We also have to warn the Fae... We don't yet know if the monsters will go into the woods."
Amalia reaches up to rub between her eyes, sighing as the weight of the coming season settles on her shoulders. Setting down her books, the gilded girl sighs, only looking back at Loren and he asks her name. Now, at last, she offers her hand, a mimicry of his earlier gesture, her slender fingers ready to meet his. "Amalia Chandrakant."
a galaxy of shadow and stars
AMALIA
