Amalia
Cross-legged on the floor before the shrine, Amalia takes a breath.
Inhale. Exhale. "Vi."
It's quiet in the temple tonight, quieter in the Shrine. A few candles flicker in a stray Leafchange breeze, sending ghosts scampering across stone walls. The chill that haunts each Deepfrost is beginning to set in, a looming threat of endless night hovering above them like a shroud. It makes her grateful for the leopard fur which slinks across her shoulders, the warmth and comfort constantly available due to the gifts of her gods.
Of him.
"I hope that all is well in the world. Thank you for all you do, for the life that flourishes even in loss. For my life, and that of my loved ones."
She hasn't been inside the Temple since... well, since it was repaired. Since she came to Safrin with Coffee's limp body clutched between her hands, anointed by their most recent failure and the disappointment in the goddess' eyes. She'd lost sight of who she was then, and more importantly, who she wanted to be. It's something she's been searching for, in the days and weeks since the visit from Safrin.
"You told me it was folly to try and walk the line of life, and I'm beginning to understand that. The world is... it's so much more complicated than I ever dreamed, growing up. And so much more beautiful, too. Every day I appreciate more the beauty that you and the Old Ones have given us."
A smile flickers across her face, then swiftly fades again. "It's more dangerous, too. I've made so many mistakes. I want to protect life, but not at the cost of others. I used to think there was no role for violence in Your work, but now I'm beginning to feel otherwise. A shield can only do so much without a sword."
Another deep breath, her body shifting. "I know that I am not a hero. I am not a god. And I don't want to be." Her legs are tucked beneath her; she can feel the stone pressing on her knees. The discomfort is nothing next to the wonder of simply being able to feel. "All I want is to be able to protect the life you have gifted us. And so I, I'll try to be stronger. Smarter. To learn when to defend, and when to act."
"Thank you for letting me come speak to you." Again she smiles, regarding the shrine with as much devotion as she would the god himself. She can picture him, after all, the memory of his presence as vibrant now as it had been that fateful night. "I'll keep doing my best... doing all I can, in your name. Loving and serving you." What else can she do, in the end? And what else would she want? Only this: to have a life of purpose and service. To cherish the gift that he has given, simply by letting her be alive. "So when the time comes for me to journey to Mort, I am worthy of his love. And yours."
Inhale. Exhale. "Vi."
It's quiet in the temple tonight, quieter in the Shrine. A few candles flicker in a stray Leafchange breeze, sending ghosts scampering across stone walls. The chill that haunts each Deepfrost is beginning to set in, a looming threat of endless night hovering above them like a shroud. It makes her grateful for the leopard fur which slinks across her shoulders, the warmth and comfort constantly available due to the gifts of her gods.
Of him.
"I hope that all is well in the world. Thank you for all you do, for the life that flourishes even in loss. For my life, and that of my loved ones."
She hasn't been inside the Temple since... well, since it was repaired. Since she came to Safrin with Coffee's limp body clutched between her hands, anointed by their most recent failure and the disappointment in the goddess' eyes. She'd lost sight of who she was then, and more importantly, who she wanted to be. It's something she's been searching for, in the days and weeks since the visit from Safrin.
"You told me it was folly to try and walk the line of life, and I'm beginning to understand that. The world is... it's so much more complicated than I ever dreamed, growing up. And so much more beautiful, too. Every day I appreciate more the beauty that you and the Old Ones have given us."
A smile flickers across her face, then swiftly fades again. "It's more dangerous, too. I've made so many mistakes. I want to protect life, but not at the cost of others. I used to think there was no role for violence in Your work, but now I'm beginning to feel otherwise. A shield can only do so much without a sword."
Another deep breath, her body shifting. "I know that I am not a hero. I am not a god. And I don't want to be." Her legs are tucked beneath her; she can feel the stone pressing on her knees. The discomfort is nothing next to the wonder of simply being able to feel. "All I want is to be able to protect the life you have gifted us. And so I, I'll try to be stronger. Smarter. To learn when to defend, and when to act."
"Thank you for letting me come speak to you." Again she smiles, regarding the shrine with as much devotion as she would the god himself. She can picture him, after all, the memory of his presence as vibrant now as it had been that fateful night. "I'll keep doing my best... doing all I can, in your name. Loving and serving you." What else can she do, in the end? And what else would she want? Only this: to have a life of purpose and service. To cherish the gift that he has given, simply by letting her be alive. "So when the time comes for me to journey to Mort, I am worthy of his love. And yours."
took the stars from our eyes and then i made a map
i knew that somehow we would find our way back
i knew that somehow we would find our way back
