Amalia
the shield of safrin
She listens quietly as he explains, holding her tongue despite the frequent urge to intervene. Whatever it is the Ascended had done or not done, as well as Sam's part in it, would be a topic for later- not ignored, but set aside. Deimos' part of the story is already familiar to the Shield; she nods when Sam reaches it, reaching out to squeeze appreciatively on the gloved hand (can he feel it?) in gratitude for his act.Of course the Voice had been angry about it. Anything to help people, help anyone other than her-! Anger crackles in Amalia's eyes, sending tendrils of lilac through her golden hair. Lavender smoke curls out from her nostrils, indignation pulling out the qilin features until she manages to swallow it down, though the nubs of horns remain. "So... because you wanted to help others, she punished you." Not even a task for the Old Gods directly- a task for the people, and one that cost the Voice nothing.
It makes the Shield's teeth hurt.
"I wish I was surprised." Her hands are balled into fists on her lap, nails pressing into palms. "But... the Voice has always discarded the things that don't obey her anymore. The Spire Demon, the LongNight monsters, the Prince... I'm sorry you had to be the newest name on that list, Sam. And to strip you of everything, leave you helpless-!" Again she feels the anger rise like fire in her chest; again she has to swallow it down, bite with fangs and close her eyes against the injustice of it all.
someday we'll find what we're looking for
or maybe not
maybe we'll find something much greater
