A M A L I A
Again the goddess shows her mercy, and Amalia feels some of her anxiety melt away in the warmth of the starlight embrace. Her tears vanish as easily as they appeared, and the girl warms with appreciation and pride - she did say no, and is doubly glad of that knowing what she knows now. "Thank you, Your Radiance," the baker sighs, eyes rising hopefully to meet the goddess' own.
Vi and Mort are mentioned again, and again Amalia's heart squeezes with jubilation at the reassurance that her god is out there, somewhere. The brief happiness is short lived, for as Safrin stiffens so does the girl, afraid to have asked the wrong question, pried too far. But no, there is a smile, and an outstretched hand, and though she is anxious the girl is brave, emboldened by the fascinating encounter, the beauty of the goddess and the reward of her faith. Nodding, Amalia reaches forward and touches a diety's hand.
At once a world rises around her, as before, only this time she is back inside the Underground, staring at a crumbling wall. "It was bright," the girl recalls, her voice distant as she struggles to find the details, to remember every nuance of the scene. "And beautiful. But... strange. There was a statue in the middle of the room, shaped like a girl, and... she came out of it." Amalia swallows and bites thoughtfully at her lip, recalling the Voice, the invitation, and watching Sam and Archebold drink. She is missing something, an important piece: the answer must be there.
"The statue was black... like the Spire," she muses, looking back up at the goddess. "Is it... part of the Spire? Did she come from inside of there? Are there other New Gods trapped within?"
