AMALIA
THE SHIELD OF SAFRIN
i think it's beautiful how a star's light
"Is it you?"travels the universe long after it dies
It is fortunate, perhaps, that Safrin's hand on her jaw keeps her from replying, the insecurities caught between the deity's pale fingers. Is she a hero? No, not of any story but her own, and even then the results are inconclusive, subject to shifting day by day.
Every word that Safrin says is another slice upon her soul, and the Shield wills herself to bear them, to keep from breaking as she stares up at the stars. Oh, but it is agony, to be reminded of her insignificance, the little she matters, and not in the scheme of things- in this moment now, to the goddess she adores. She had thought she might help, thought she had a purpose, and yes, beneath her crushing anxiety, thought herself beloved. But there are dark spaces between the stars, and even those she will never know.
Too small, too mortal, too weak.
In one thing, though, she may succeed. There are tears in her eyes as Safrin grabs the flower, her blood running black as the thorns pierce her skin. With baited breath the baker waits, watching and praying to all of her deities that something, anything, will come to pass. Vi, please, heal your child- please, please, help her be whole.
If only this works it will have been worth the pain she has had to bear. If only this works her life will have meaning, as small and insignificant as it may be.
That's what I want to be in this world —
someone whose light lingers after I'm gone
