in the right heaven-yellow light, anything could be
holy enough to save you
Amalia’s sharp words rebound off of Rexanna, as she nods in understanding. “I was almost one of them until Bastien found me.” She had been, too, drank from by Lucas and left with barely a string attached to life, drained and drained. It was why she was so careful when she did drink, only from those willing to help, wanting it. It was the only way. But she doesn’t expect her words to soften Amalia, nor does she expect the shield to open up so much — a frown finding her face as she nods yet again in understanding, that in the end they want the same, but Amalia moreso from being trapped behind the barrier for so long. A small amount of surprise leaves the Penumbra as Amalia grasps her hands, the stone within it, but Rexanna doesn’t react to taking the stone. She waits until Amalia is done, until the words have been said and the Shields hand leave her own with the stone.
She clutches it tightly before she looks up a bit more, aiming to try and give the girl the confidence she seems like she’s requesting. “I can try to, Amalia, but I can’t stop them.” She frowns. “But if there was a way, a way to prevent the spread of more blights and to learn more about it from my goddess, to protect life and open the portals safely with consideration, perhaps you and I can work together to give you the world?” She clutches the rock tighter, because in the end that’s all she wants.
A way to see the world, without destruction, without pain. And if nobody else is willing to approach the Voice who isn’t Ascended, well, she’s wanted to be a voice for both sides of her. The gods that had forsaken her, and the one that had made her bright.
REXANNA
