Amalia
the shield of safrin
Get off your moral high horse. The words hurt worse than any blow, distant echoes of Safrin's taunting, the fear of inflated self-importance she has recently begun to feel. Is she really so arrogant, the girl wonders, that everyone in her life needs to remember? Has she become conceited, absorbed in hubris, titles and talks with greater forces going to her head?
When the blight is over and her loved ones healed, will she still be a broken thing?
Her sweeping blow sends Ronin flying, but Amalia does not follow it through. Part of her - a bigger part, a rational part - knows that the blight is speaking through him, turning his words into barbs and slings. But another part, a small and shattered part that has bent and broken beneath too much weight, wonders if it isn't true. If this is not honesty at last, his feelings expressed through an inky mouth, the things he believes about her finally brought forth.
Holding her staff in a defensive stance, Amalia swallows, dark gaze never leaving the man. "Do you really find me so hateful, Ronin?" the baker asks softly. She has given up on absolution; it is time to accept his retribution.
When the blight is over and her loved ones healed, will she still be a broken thing?
Her sweeping blow sends Ronin flying, but Amalia does not follow it through. Part of her - a bigger part, a rational part - knows that the blight is speaking through him, turning his words into barbs and slings. But another part, a small and shattered part that has bent and broken beneath too much weight, wonders if it isn't true. If this is not honesty at last, his feelings expressed through an inky mouth, the things he believes about her finally brought forth.
Holding her staff in a defensive stance, Amalia swallows, dark gaze never leaving the man. "Do you really find me so hateful, Ronin?" the baker asks softly. She has given up on absolution; it is time to accept his retribution.
you are slowly growing
but you are still growing
and that is enough
