I belong to you the way the moon belongs to the stars
The world is being saved by life.
Vi's gift, his blessing, his purpose weights on her, the promise of another dawn, a day without the blight. It is not today, but it is coming, and Amalia is hopeful- more hopeful than she has let herself be in days or weeks, more hopeful than she has dared to feel since she watched her goddess crash and fall, a comet through the blackest night, a brilliant thing too soon snuffed out and left as but a shade.
She has been haunted by that day for months, dreamt of it in her darkest nightmares, remembered it when she was alone. Like a crushing tide it has rested on her shoulders, pushing her down into the earth, drowning her in the wave of despair, of guilt, of ineffectual sorrow.
No more. Today Vi has given them purpose, given them hope, and there is one above all who Amalia wishes to see and share her relief with. That Safrin has already been cared for is obvious to the baker's mind: she does not think herself a hero, that she has any role in celestial affairs. Vi would have mended Safrin's blight the moment he was able, she knows.
No, Amalia seeks her goddess out in simple celebration. Having planted a rose at the foot of the shrine, the girl shifts back to mortal form and sits upon her heels, staring up through tear-damp eyes, a smile on her face. "He's doing it, Safrin," the girl whispers, her fingers ghosting gently across the ivory marble stone. "Vi... I thought you might like to have one of his flowers here. Beside your shrine."
Vi's gift, his blessing, his purpose weights on her, the promise of another dawn, a day without the blight. It is not today, but it is coming, and Amalia is hopeful- more hopeful than she has let herself be in days or weeks, more hopeful than she has dared to feel since she watched her goddess crash and fall, a comet through the blackest night, a brilliant thing too soon snuffed out and left as but a shade.
She has been haunted by that day for months, dreamt of it in her darkest nightmares, remembered it when she was alone. Like a crushing tide it has rested on her shoulders, pushing her down into the earth, drowning her in the wave of despair, of guilt, of ineffectual sorrow.
No more. Today Vi has given them purpose, given them hope, and there is one above all who Amalia wishes to see and share her relief with. That Safrin has already been cared for is obvious to the baker's mind: she does not think herself a hero, that she has any role in celestial affairs. Vi would have mended Safrin's blight the moment he was able, she knows.
No, Amalia seeks her goddess out in simple celebration. Having planted a rose at the foot of the shrine, the girl shifts back to mortal form and sits upon her heels, staring up through tear-damp eyes, a smile on her face. "He's doing it, Safrin," the girl whispers, her fingers ghosting gently across the ivory marble stone. "Vi... I thought you might like to have one of his flowers here. Beside your shrine."
the stars in your eyes will bring me back
and once again, i will kiss the sky
and once again, i will kiss the sky
AMALIA
