Amalia
THE SHIELD OF SAFRIN
I THINK IT'S BEAUTIFUL HOW A STAR'S LIGHT
Little less than a week.travels the universe long after it dies
Cold fear fills her, settles into her bones. Little under a week and then she will be condemned anew, flushed with fever and lost again to the prison of her mind. The thought freezes her in place, kills the questions that might have risen to her lips. She can feel herself falling back into the darkness, the powerlessness that waits with arms open.
It's his voice that keeps Amalia steady, rooted in this world. She focuses in upon it, on the eyes that look at and through her, on the sweet earthiness of his breath. Purpose. She clings to purpose, to the guidance he provides. A nod, a quiet, solemn acceptance. Find the water. Become well.
She's useless to him, as she was.
"I will go," she murmurs quietly, inhaling deeply the scent of flowers. "And find answers. And make myself well for you."
She readies herself to be dismissed, but one more issue nags her. A small question, a minor change, but one that has to mean something. "Before I go... there's one change I don't understand yet." Flushing slightly, Amalia turns, bringing the shield off her back. The open-backed shirt reveals the mark she's discovered, shimmering colors that dance and ripple between her scapulae. "I came out of my fever with it... I don't know what it means."
that's what I want to be in this world —
SOMEONE WHOSE LIGHT LINGERS AFTER I'M GONE
