Amalia
a certain darkness is needed to see the stars
✩
She listens raptly to the cautionary tale, hungry to learn more of the Voice's mistakes that she may avoid their replication. "Did you know her? Be... before? What happened, to make her... What she is?"
Safrin's fingers laced in hers are the anchor the Shield so desperately craves, tethers, ironically, to her own mortality, to the far-off hope that she might be enough. "I won't turn away." An ardent promise, her soul in her voice and her face. The depth of her gratitude is immense; instead of crumbling she finds herself burning, a shimmer of the girl she'd once been revived.
Like a child whose faith in her parents is absolute, she turns adoring, pleading eyes to Safrin. "How do I get back to you? And Vi?"
Safrin's fingers laced in hers are the anchor the Shield so desperately craves, tethers, ironically, to her own mortality, to the far-off hope that she might be enough. "I won't turn away." An ardent promise, her soul in her voice and her face. The depth of her gratitude is immense; instead of crumbling she finds herself burning, a shimmer of the girl she'd once been revived.
Like a child whose faith in her parents is absolute, she turns adoring, pleading eyes to Safrin. "How do I get back to you? And Vi?"
