MELITA
The last time she’d been to Ludo’s shrine had been much like a catharsis; earth-shaking, shattering, mistakes and conundrums, enigmas and the puncturing notion of silence, a confounding thing that she’d believed had told her everything she needed to hear. That she’d made too many mistakes. That she’d orchestrated too many trials, too many tribulations, should’ve had more control, should’ve been better, should’ve held taut and tight and been more - And then Ludo had still come when she called, out along eerie footfalls and memory snow.
So she pressed her movements into the glade this time, no longer permitted in the Greatwood, no longer able to follow lantern light to coveted sanctions and rites. It wasn’t for her, but for the deity itself, hushed and quiet, seemingly something amiss in the pit of her bones, in the arch of her bare feet, in the cool abyss against her toes, the soothing grass comforting when everything else seemed a mess. The sunlit sky pressed into her skin, into her flesh, into her heart, and then along the entanglement of items she’d managed to snag: some leftover snow moss, ivory rocks, a few feathers scattered from the forest, a tiny assemblage of shells and shining scales of fish, kneeling, crouching, and placing them on the pedestals. Then she leaned forward, Fangorn beside her knees, a combination of light, ethereal qualities, her voice soft, a whisper, a dulcet whim. “Ludo, I brought these gifts for you. I hope you are well.” Her eyes closed, lids drifting downward, struggling not to see fire behind her eyes, the deadly, haunting rime and ghosts in the wind, demons in the dark. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
Then she reeled back, into the wind, expecting nothing – but hoping the presents were well received; more than she could ask for, in the aftermath of pestilence, blights, torments, and LongNight’s thresholds.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
